In an instant, the Witch’s dismissively aloof reply wiped the welcoming cordiality off of Poppi’s face. Her brows lifted and her lips pursed as if to say
ah, that’s how it is, but of course her new acquaintance had already redirected her attention elsewhere. “Good luck with that,” the artificial blade replied, her tone lackadaisical. She turned off her phone with a tap of a button, pocketed it, and pushed off the server she’d been leaning against to follow behind the Witch as she approached the engineers. “Nopon speech mode dictate that Poppi speak in third person, so friend have plenty chances for name to sink in.” She came to a stop with her arms crossed while the Witch got the others’ attention, wondering what this surly stranger was doing here.
James Shirogane looked up from his project the moment the Witch drew close enough to disturb his work. His round green goggles gave him an air of wide-eyed surprise, though behind the lenses his expression was a mix of wariness and incredulity. Even if this work-in-progress Shirogane Drive 2.0 wasn’t far along enough to be dangerous right now, the components were delicate and unshielded, so any amount of blundering could lead to major setbacks. Why in the world would she impose on him like this? Her question caught him off guard, too. Was she some sort of big shot? That couldn’t possibly be the case; not even a shut-in like him could go a week aboard the Avenger and not learn who’s who among the Lost Numbers.
With that possibility scratched off, Shirogane could only speculate. “One o’ them magicians, I reckon?” He spoke with a southern twang like Goldlewis did, though his voice was wheezy and tremulous compared to the veteran’s firm baritone. After skipping past introductions, the Witch requested -or more accurately, demanded- a total explanation about ‘this place’ and how it functioned. For a moment Shirogane looked excited, pleased by the youngster’s eager curiosity and appetite for learning, but his enthusiasm quickly gave way to a puzzled look perfectly accentuated by his question mark-shaped plume of hair. “Now hold up a sec, missy. You mean my workstation here, the Engine Room, or the Avenger itself? ‘Cause if it ain’t the first one, well, I’m afraid you’re plumb outta luck. Everythin’ under the hood in this here airship’s elerium-based nanotech, reverse-engineered from a space-farin’ society at least on par with GEATHJERK, an’ as much as I’d like to pull it apart piece by piece to see what makes it tick, the Lost Numbers don’t want me doin’ anythin’ that’d put the ship outta commission. We stop movin’, and Moebius’ll be on us like hounds on a hamhock!”
“That why we work on coupling to interface with Avenger system without interfere, meh.” Shirogane’s understudy spoke in a boyish chirp, his dialect marked by frequent omissions and verbal tics. Despite his cute, harmless appearance and mannerisms, eye contact from him was oddly intense. “Who are you, anyway?”
“She told Poppi that she forget name,” his companion piped up from behind the Witch.
That took the Nopon by surprise, prompting him to flap his wings. “Mehmeh? Forget name? If friend cannot remember basic thing like name, how expect to remember advanced aerospatial science?”
“Maybe she just bad with names, but good at other stuff. Like Tora with social cues,” Poppi shrugged, an amused smile on her face. Squinting at the witch, she adopted a sagacious look with her thumb and forefinger on her chin. “If Poppi had to guess, witchypon look like a ‘Martha’.”
Excited to rope the newcomer into the team, Tora jumped up and down. “Ooh, Mar-Mar for short!” After a couple bounces he settled down, his hands perched on his hips with his wings rested around his neck. He turned up his nose, eyes closed. “If witchypon garner enough Tora respect to earn doublename, that is! Right, Jim-Jim?” He turned to Shirogane.
“Hm? Oh, uh, you betcha, kid.” The old inventor chuckled, then snapped his fingers as a lightbulb went off over his head. “Oh! Tell ya hwhat, missy. While I reckon I couldn’t tell ya how these alien doodads worked even if I knew myself, I know a fellow inquisitive mind when I see one. How ‘bout I hook ya up with a gizmo that’ll give ya access to the sum total of all human knowledge, right in your pocket?” He looked over at Tora. “Kid, mind givin’ her yer phone?”
Tora looked worried all of a sudden, sweat beading on his brow. “Meh? Tora…phone? Haha, um, Tora not…not have it at moment. Must be back in room, meh…”
Poppi pulled the device she’d been using earlier from her pocket. “Here is.” When she went to fork it over to the Witch, however, her Masterpon broke out in a panic.
“Waitwaitwait!” Tora flapped his wings. He bounced over and addressed her in an urgent whisper, much too loud to keep what he said a secret.
”Delete search history first!"Groaning, Shirogane rubbed his head. “I knew givin’ him internet access was a mistake.” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Ahem. While they’re doin’ that, lemme give ya the rundown. That phone’ll letcha use the Inter-knot, an infinite web of interconnected websites where people chat, play games, and store all kinds o’ information. Chances are you’ll be able to find whatever you wanna know, though it’ll probably take some gettin’ used to. Happy huntin’!”
Once Tora and Poppi successfully deleted the Nopon’s search history, the two presented the Witch with the phone, opening up a new horizon to a bottomless abyss of information in which the sorceress could lose herself forever.
Elsewhere in the ship, the other new recruit from Meridi-at-han had wandered continuously since his arrival. Grimm walked its halls, gently running his claws along the sheer metal walls, acclimating himself to the muted pitch and yaw of the aerial vessel as much as the unfamiliar material beneath his pointed feet. A silent and often unobserved shadow, he peeked into every room he found, understanding little but observing everything.
Anomalous magical currents, more familiar to him than any of the ship’s advanced technology, drew him to the Mysticenter where he watched the young mage Mona at her divination pool. For a couple minutes he pored over the myriad elemental research tables that surrounded the Mysticenter’s spellcraft station, intrigued by miniature shrines to Frost, Physics, Poison, Order, and of course, Fire. He ducked into the Spirit Chamber to witness the end of Deadman’s final experiment for the night, his scarlet eyes unblinking as he watched a lab rat’s chimeric transformation. He saw the priestly healer Eleison take stock of expired health potions in the Infirmary, and in the isolation Ward he observed the lone prisoner meditate in silence. He recoiled at the acrid chemical smells that wafted from the Laboratory where Dr. Amelia Yu sought better understanding, and when he reached the Training Center, he figured out enough to put the Combat Adjudicator through its paces. By the time he passed by the Comms Center, Zenkichi was passing through laden with pastries and coffee mugs, so he swept to the side to make way. For a moment his gaze lingered on him and Sandalphon together, but by the time either might look his way, the phantom was gone.
Eventually the lone wanderer reached an unlabeled common room. Its lights were dimmed to not disturb any sleepers in the adjoining dormitories, but not everyone had retired for the night just yet. In the open area, three little girls of five or six years appeared to be playing a game of tag, both with one another and a big, white-furred
Great Pyrenees. All three children had tan skin, dark green hair with different streaks of yellow, and rabbit ears, though that was where their similarities ended. The quiet one in a blue dress had long hair and ears that hung down, while the ears of the giggly white-dressed one with a ponytail stood straight up, and the mischievous girl in yellow had short hair beneath ears bent at different angles. They took turns chasing and running from one another and the dog, who played with remarkable gentleness despite his large size. Soon after Grimm inserted himself into the shadows, however, the girls’ companion seemed to take notice. He turned toward Grimm’s corner, no longer panting, and lowered his head with hackles raised. The kids seemed to sense his distress and quieted down, staring into the darkness.
In reply, Grimm carefully opened his cloak. Out flew the Grimmchild, which fluttered over toward the children. They gasped and clung together, alarmed, with the girl in yellow going as far as to grab and throw a soda can, but the Grimmchild kept a respectful distance. It fluttered around, doing twists and loops. The dog went after it, chasing it around and even jumping up to try and grab it in his jaws, but the insect would not be caught so easily. It wasn’t long before the delighted girls joined in the pursuit, chasing after the Grimmchild like they might a pretty butterfly. Once tensions eased, the game went on for a few more moments, Grimm watching silently all the while, until someone else stepped into the room. In an instant the Grimmchild darted beneath its father’s cloak, and Grimm’s scarlet eyes narrowed as he studied the newcomer. She appeared to be a woman in her mid-to-late thirties, with a stocky build, spiky black-and-yellow hair in a ponytail. She was dressed for bed in a tank top and shorts, and the moment the kids saw her they ran over. “Mommy, mommy! There was a big bug in here!” the girl in white told her, excited.
“A big bug?” The woman’s ruby-red eyes widened as she hugged her daughters close. She looked around the room, and Grimm shrank from her questing gaze. “Where’d it go? Are you girls okay?”
“Yeah!” The girl in yellow wore a big grin. “I wasn’t scared, so I threw a can at it! But it just wanted to play, so we played tag with it.”
The woman smiled, gathered her daughters, and lifted all three up at once. “Nice job, Soleil! Well, I’m glad you had fun. And if Caesar didn’t bark, it must’ve been alright. Good boy!” She lifted up a foot to scratch the dog’s chest, which he appreciated. “C’mon, let’s get to bed. Daddy’s waiting, and it’s gonna be a big day tomorrow.”
“You gonna get into more fights?” Soleil demanded, her excitement visible on her young face.
Laughing, her mom turned to head back to their room. “Hopefully not! That’s what all our new members are for, after all. But if anything happens, I’ll keep you three safe. Daddy too!”
Their conversation faded away as the woman closed the door behind her. After a quiet moment, Grimm departed, and the shadows were empty one more.
After the excitement of the rampage, the duel, and the Fulton-assisted ascent to the Avenger, Goldlewis wanted nothing more than to trudge to his chamber and nod off. But with an all-hands-on-deck operation scheduled for tomorrow morning, Goldlewis had a checklist of tasks to go through before he could retire for the night. At a leisurely pace he made his rounds, visiting various rooms to get his equipment inspected and tuned up to be ready for action. Grenades and consumables he could lay claim to just before deployment, but everything else needed to be one hundred percent operational well in advance. Though he didn’t know the details about the plan yet, he knew enough about the Dead Zone to know that tomorrow’s mission would be no ordinary battle. Being ready for anything was the job of being a Seeker, but this time the consequences of unreadiness would be dire indeed.
“Beached Things,” he muttered. He and the other Seekers had powerful enemies in Moebius and the Guardians, but few things actually scared a veteran soldier like Goldlewis. At least two things, however, did: the Transmission that emanated from the City That Never Was, and whatever it was that roamed the Dead Zone ever since that massive explosion about two weeks ago, visible from as far away from Midgar. Rumors about Project Rainshadow -and the problem it was meant to solve- traveled fast aboard the Avenger, but Goldlewis had been elsewhere for the past week, so he knew very little. He was anxious to find out more, but at this hour he couldn’t just meander around and grill whoever he came across. Instead he opted to mind his own business, and focus on steeling himself for tomorrow.
Once all his gear was in order, Goldlewis got changed in his room, donning a simple wifebeater and sweats. After that he spent a while stretching, incorporating a few of his old military drills into his routine. Some told him that getting his heart rate up before bed would make it hard to fall asleep, but he knew better than anyone that if he spent the last of his anxious energy, he’d be out the second he hit the pillow. Unfortunately, he couldn’t conk out just yet. It was getting close to ten o’clock, the scheduled arrival time for the Avenger over Mafia Town for pickup number two, so he figured he ought to be present. That left about five minutes before he’d need to head down, though, which was enough time to do something he’d been meaning to.
Goldlewis left the living quarters and sequestered himself in the Training Center, where he knew he’d be able to speak without disturbing anyone. Then he raised his fingers to his ear and summoned a magic circle, not the holy sigil characteristic of Sandalphon’s communication network, but something all his own. He seated himself on a fallen punching bag as the magic circle hummed, waiting until a familiar woman’s voice came through. “Hello?”
“Howdy, Gi.”
“Howdy yourself, old timer!” The guarded tone on the other end of the line turned friendly in an instant. “Wow, late call, huh? You’re up past your bedtime, gramps.”
Goldlewis shook his head with an exasperated smile. “Put a sock in it, Gi, I ain’t that old. Not yet, anyhow. You’re what, thirty? I’d have to be twenty years older to be your grandad.”
“
Thirty!? Kill yourself.” Though Giovanna often sounded rude, she and Goldlewis had been friends long enough that he knew when she was joking. “So what’s up, why’d you call me? Feeling lonely?”
Leaning back, Goldlewis shrugged. “Nothin’. Just wanted to say hi, is all. Feels weird not seein’ ya round. After all the time we spent workin’ for Vernon, I swear the longest we’ve ever been separated is a weekend.”
“Y’know, you might be right, seeing as Midgar didn’t give us Labor Day or anything. What a rip.” Giovanna chuckled. “Well, it’s been fun on my end. We’ve been roughing it out here near the Satisfactory. Once we found tools that let us insta-build stuff, everyone started setting up their own little houses and factories, banding together, and squabbling over resources. It’s the wild west out here, and that Kanzuki girl thinks I oughta be helping her play sheriff.” She sighed. “We’ve mostly been fine, though. After living with the Ever Crisis for who-knows-how-long, everything we’re dealing with’s like a breath of fresh air. Plus, you can really see the night sky all the way out here. It’s pretty.” Goldlewis stared up into the ceiling, remembering how the stars looked from Meridi-at-han. The lull in the conversation continued until Giovanna filled the dead air. “What about you? Do anything fun lately.”
The veteran chuckled. “You could say that. I wound up in this city called Meridi-at-han, way out west of Midgar. Kinda reminded me of Zepp, but without all the black tech. Took a little gettin’ used to, but I ended up likin’ the place. Put Midgar to shame, that’s for damn sure.”
“Zepp, huh? Never been myself. How was the food?”
Goldlewis grinned, shaking his head. “Hoo, boy. The Hannish like their food spicy. You know I ain’t a big spice guy -just a big guy in general- but once I got the hang of it, it was real good.” He patted his stomach. “...Still, I could really go for a good ol’ fashioned double cheeseburger.”
“We’ll have to find a place and get one sometime, then. You, me, Vernon, Jessie. Just like old times, eh partner?”
With a grunt, Goldlewis stood up. “That’d be mighty fine. Gotta hold off for a little bit, though. Got a big mission tomorrow.”
“Don’t go dying on us then, old-timer.” Giovanna said it jokingly, but Goldlewis knew she meant it. “Uh oh, Karin’s coming. Catch you later.”
“Later.” The magic circle disappeared, and Goldlewis turned to head back down to Deployment.
The situation inside Bancho Sushi in the wake of the Battle Royal Rumble looked bad to begin with, but only after actually getting their hands dirty and digging into the heaps of debris could the Seekers really begin to get a grip on the havoc those wrestlers wreaked. In the face of such devastation, the cleanup crew could only find two things to be thankful for: the health of the staff, and the fact that the restaurant still floated at all. It was because of these dire circumstances, though, that Nadia Fortune felt more determined than ever to stay positive. She darted around the premises with a resolute smile on her face, cracking jokes and lending a hand wherever she could to disentangle, deconstruct, and dislodge the wreckage.
Neither she nor Bancho were paragons of physical strength, but the two made decent inroads at clearing the place out even before Geralt, Rika, Junior, and Dave returned. The portly diver seemed much more dismayed at the state of the place than Bancho did, somehow, but once changed he sallied forth with his precious loot stuffed in a cargo box to sell the giant Truck Hermit Crab Legs at the night market. With their manpower more than doubled, the cleanup crew made good progress, though in the midst of their laborious teamwork a sudden call from the Seekers’ intelligence officer made it clear that the eventful evening wasn’t over just yet.
After hearing from Sandalphon that the Avenger would be arriving in an hour Geralt relayed what he, Dave, and the Koopa Kids found, which filled in Nadia in the process. Even if all the wrestlers had tapped out, the spawn pads and Flame Clocks aboard Ɪ’s ship were a definite cause for concern, since they seemingly indicated that more foes could crop up at any time. The Seekers could theoretically sink it, but that would be difficult and time-consuming, and they still couldn’t do anything about the Flame Clock. The prospect of leaving the matter unresolved didn’t thrill Nadia, but there wasn’t much that she could do. Hopefully, the presence of the cargo ship here would mean that Limsa Lominscuttle Town could recover and launch a counter-offensive, especially if the Seekers tipped the Azure Navy off.
Once the call concluded, Nadia and the others continued their work. After twenty minutes or so Dave returned in good spirits, a heavy sack of pons over his shoulder. Even in the aftermath of the Battle Royal Rumble, it seemed, a treasure like the giant crab claws could fetch a high price. Unfortunately, it looked like the tidy sum Dave received wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to cover the repairs. Once cleared out, Bancho Sushi was little more than an elaborate raft, with only a handful of its assets salvageable or miraculously untouched.
While Dave and Bancho went over accounts, the roar of an outboard motor announced the arrival of Cobra aboard his motorboat. Evidently he’d managed to ride out the night’s proceedings unscathed, and with him came all the diving equipment used by Dave and Nadia to procure the restaurant’s fish. Just as dismayed as the others, he quickly came ashore to discuss what to do next. It wasn’t long before another boat showed up to check on Bancho Sushi as well, this one bearing the Blue Hole archeologist
Dr. Bacon in his classic khaki explorer’s attire. He joined Cobra, Bancho, and Dave aboard the restaurant, his expressions of sympathy quickly giving way to excited reports about his recent findings as a way to make all the losses back.
Nadia stood aside as she watched the four argue, a sad smile on her face. During her time in Mafia Town, these four -as well as the operation’s tech expert, the eccentric recluse Duff- had all become her friends, all working to get this business off the ground in their own ways. They didn’t always see eye to eye, and seldom spent time together outside of work, but now that this disaster had brought them together she could see how much they all cared–not just about Bancho Sushi, but about one another. They weren’t the best or the brightest, and they certainly weren’t the most successful, but they were a team. In these men Nadia saw an inkling of the four Dagonians she’d been privileged to call family back in her Innsmouth days. That was why, despite this catastrophe, she knew they’d be alright. Even if the newest member of their little bunch had to say goodbye.
In the midst of their discussion, the feral approached. “Hey, guys,” she greeted them, getting their attention. “Sorry to cut in. I know it’s a bad time, buuuuut…I’ve got more bad news. Depending on how much you like me, of course.” She pursed her lips as she smiled. “I have to go soon.”
“Huh? Why?” Dave looked more aghast than anyone, his hands held up as if to say
what gives? “The only way we’re gonna have enough cash to fix the place is if we catch and sell enough fish to get the restaurant running.” He grinned at her helplessly. “What, you’re gonna leave me to do it alone?”
Nadia put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need me! Sure, my harebrained schemes pay off once in a while, but you’re the dependable workhorse this place needs! Plus, with me gone, Bancho can save more by not paying me!”
Dave frowned. “He was paying you???
A fresh round of argument broke out among the five, everyone trying to convince someone else and not be convinced in the process. In all the hubbub, the motley crew didn’t notice another group approaching until a pointed female voice cut through the clamor.
“Wow, those rumblers really did a number on your restaurant, huh?” When she looked over, Nadia was taken aback to see one of the most infamous members of Mafia Town’s criminal underground just waltzing out in the open, the tattooed, Thompson-toting, two-tone rascal
Rosanna. Seldom seen outside of Mafia HQ, especially with her counterpart Chrom, this woman held the distinction of being one of the few ‘actually dangerous’ people in the Mafia of Cooks, arguably more so than her own boss. But what was she doing here?
“What are you doing here?” Nadia asked. Like the others, she was immediately on guard.
Rosanna gave a disarming smile as she put a gloved hand on her hip, one brow upturned. “Oof, so cold. And here I was, just walking along, trying to figure out which sad sap deserved a little reimbursement from the Mafia for all their dutiful payments…”
With his brows furrowed, Dave looked incredulous. “Wait, you Mafia people are doing disaster relief? That stuff about protection money isn’t just a scam?”
Rolling her eyes, Rosanna smiled innocently. “I mean, of course it is. Duh! But hey, Bancho here’s just about our biggest earner. You guys have any idea how trendy sushi is nowadays? A lot more than Possum Pizza, that’s for sure, ugh!” She snapped her fingers, and two of her goons walked over with sacks of pons on their shoulders. “So, here’s a little something from the boss. Get yourselves up and running again nice and quickly now, ‘kay? Don’t keep us waiting!” She turned with a jaunty wave and sauntered off, her grunts following behind once they dumped the pons at Bancho’s feet.
After a moment. Nadia shrugged, a huge grin on her face. “Well, that’s kinda ominous, but all’s well that ends well, right? Talk about luck–did somebody wish u-’pon’ a star?”
Cobra stood up from examining the stacks. “Guys. We’ve got enough to rebuild the restaurant! Bancho Sushi’s back in business!”
“Well, it feels a little early to be saying that,” Bancho remarked. As the others celebrated, he glanced around at the Seekers, his gaze settling on Nadia. “If you’ve got to go, then go. But if you get the chance, please come again.”
Nadia shook the chef’s hand with a smile. “I will. You haven’t sush-een the last of me!”
By this time, the missing Seekers had trickled in from around the island. Captain Falcon, Therion, Blazermate, and of course, Juri all showed up, their rendezvous aided by Junior’s balloon trick. Falcon even brought a new face, scarred and grizzled enough to give even Geralt a run for his money. Just seconds after the last straggler showed up, and before any chewing-out could commence, a beam of light dropped from the sky to reveal Sandalphon, right on time. Freshly fed and caffeinated, the formally-dressed archangel looked as radiant as ever, even with bags under those odd eyes of hers. The light of her elaborate halo illuminated the faces of everyone present, as well as the satchel of Fulton devices in her hand. “Good evening, everyone,” she greeted the team, apparently in good spirits. “Please take and affix a Fulton device in preparation for ascendance. With haste, if at all possible. We have one more pickup schedule for tonight, and a long way to go.”
She held one out for Venom Snake in particular, choosing her words tactfully in light of his gleaming status. “Greetings. We are short on time, so forgive my abbreviated introduction, I am Sandalphon, dispatcher for the Seekers of Light. If you’re here to join our mission to save the world, please take this, pull it tight, and yank the cord. We can tell you everything once we’re safe.”
Nadia grabbed her Fulton and put it on eagerly, then cracked her neck and stretched her arms as if limbering up for a fight. “Okay, this time I’m gonna stay awake for sure. Not gonna pass out! Not gonna freak out! Just gonna power through it! G-force? More like-!”
A pink-and-black blur swept in front of her, and before Nadia knew what was happening, the ripcord on her Fulton had been pulled. Her jaw dropped as she stared at Juri in stunned silence, though only for a moment. “You stinky bitch! I wasn’t done hyping mys-AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa
aaaaaaaaa…”
“....AAAAAH!” Nadia jolted awake mid-yell and found herself seated in a large, dark hangar full of sophisticated instrumentation and heavy-duty machinery. This could only be Deployment, deep in the belly of titanic aircraft known as the Avenger. And if she was here, safe and sound aboard the Lost Numbers’ mobile base, that could only mean… “Damn it. I passed out again.”
Worse still, most of the others had stirred from their stupors already. Most of them left of their own accord, but for the sake of the bearded newcomer, Sandalphon had positioned herself next to an elaborate map of the Avenger’s interior on the wall. “Welcome aboard.” For the second time that night, the archangel launched into her well-rehearsed orientation speech. Nadia picked herself up, made doubly sure that she still had all her parts, and jogged over. “This is the Avenger, our mobile base of operations. Think of it like a flying fortress. It comes equipped with various amenities, including living quarters, restrooms, a mess haul, and various workshops with different specialties. Please feel free to explore within reason and speak to the Lost Numbers, should you have any questions or concerns.”
“I have one,” the feral piped up. “Well, two. First off, ‘eye’ think we have, you know, a sl-eye-t issue here…” She tilted her head toward Snake, as if Sandalphon could have failed to notice the new recruit’s gleaming state. Sandalphon nodded slowly, trying not to feel patronized. “Second, could we somehow send a message to Limsa Lominscuttle Town? The ship that’s been attacking them is at Mafia Town, drifting over the Blue Hole. If those shipgirls can sink it, it might disappear the next time the Blue Hole regenerates!”
Sandalphon’s eyes became inverted triangles as she drafted the message. “Good thinking, Fortune. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Sandy. Say ‘halo’ to Zenkichi for me!” Nadia grinned at her as she turned to go. As late as it was, there was plenty to do aboard the Avenger before retiring for the night to her and Blazermate’s room. A visit to the Stolen Moments bar sounded pretty good. There was, however, one problem the feral didn’t account for: Juri.
In Skyworld, trains were not a common sight. Despite the futuristic weapons and armor utilized by Celia and Uriel’s Hellguard, technology throughout the autumnal realm remained locked at a Renaissance level. After all, what need had its denizens of light, when the Minor Erdtrees and its luminous leaves filled each night with serene resplendence? And what need had they of transportation, when their wings could carry them anywhere they needed? Any sufficiently stable sky islands within walkable distance from one another had long ago been connected with bridges of carved stone. Other landmasses tended to float around, dooming any inflexible attempts at connection to failure, and even if by some miracle each island in the airborne archipelago hung perfectly still, the cost of connecting new one by rail would be prohibitive.
All this meant that to the angels of Skyworld, the Infernal Train was a terrifying, eldritch entity, its form and function utterly beyond their imaginations. Larger than any living thing, and constantly in motion, yet composed of inanimate materials, and fashioned into a mockery of their own hallowed cathedrals. Then there was the matter of the corruption, making the mechanical monstrosity more horrible still. Few could look upon the infested construct and fathom that it merely contained the corruption’s source, rather than embodying it. Even then, however, Palutena’s forces did not lose heart. With courage and zeal they surged forth, scrubbing the train’s blackened exterior clean of ruinous horrors one incursion at a time. They didn’t need to understand their foe to know that it needed to be destroyed. To their commanders, though, there was one fact about the Infernal Train that became increasingly obvious as the battle wore on: that the path of its incessant charge seemed to be dictated by its tracks, the colossal, night-black rails that bore the carriages’ full weight as they trundled onward in perpetuity. And in that realization, the angels found their path to victory.
Once Uriel joined him in the sky overlooking the final island and confirmed that the Seekers were ready, Nathaniel gave the signal. Fodoquia, Ochlys, Raenys, and Sanatio were already in position, and in their arms they held not weapons, but
holy hand grenades, the last of Palutena’s stock. Nathaniel had needed to choose their location quickly, but carefully. It would not do to send the source of the corruption careening down into the ocean far below, after all, where it could very well survive and proliferate across the entire planet. He’d settled on a spot atop the island itself, just after a tunnel from which the Infernal Train would emerge and before a relatively sharp turn among mountains of corruption-stained crystals. At his command, the angels pulled the cross-shaped pins and let their bombs rain down.
”HAAAAAAALLELUJIAH!”BABABABABABABABOOM!If anything, the ensuing blast proved to be a little excessive. As fast as the angels flew away, the aerial shockwave alone still sent them tumbling, and the whole island shook beneath the percussion of divinely inspired bombs. When the dust settled, a massive crater had been blown into the crystal fields, destroying untold amounts of corrupted matter along with the tracks and creating an enormous basin in the Infernal Train’s path. The detonation came not a moment too soon. A tremendous roar issued from within the island to herald the emergence of the Infernal Train.
”Now!” Palutena decreed.
Within the locomotive, the Seekers did everything they could to break out. They had only ten seconds to make their exit before the Infernal Train burst from the mouth of the tunnel in a miasma of toxic fumes, then hurtled off the warped, broken tracks and into the open air. As horrific as the sight was, few could find it within themselves to look away. Adrenaline pounded, and time seemed to stand still. Then, with an ungodly cacophony of crumbling stone and rending steel, joined by the hideous howl of the corruption itself, the Infernal Train crashed down into the crater made for it.
After what seemed like an eternity, a brawny arm of twisted flesh and crystal protrusions broke through the rumble. Slowly, groaning in pain, Absalom extricated himself. His enormous body was battered, one giant black and yellow bruise weeping corruption. Yet still he held tight to Absolution, even as he clambered atop the wreckage of his train. Within the rubble, many corrupted monsters stirred, fighting to regain the consciousness wrenched from them by the almighty impact. He witnessed angels flocking around the crash site, and the Seekers healing up for the final round. “Winged rats,” he rumbled, ichor dripping from his fangs. “Tremble in fear! For I still live!”
A smug snicker resounded through the sky.
”Not for long. Make your peace, Absalom. You’re as good as gone.”“Hah…” The former Nephilim straightened up, hoisting his axe. His tentacles extended, writhing in anger. “Then from hell…I stab at thee!”
At that moment, something massive flew overhead, strong enough to part the clouds and kick up strong winds, even if the forces of light couldn’t see it. From the furrow left behind, however, a single object grew larger and larger, dark and shaped like a can, until it slammed down the ground not far from Absalom’s location. Its speed buried it in the ground, leaving only a lid visible, with a skull emblazoned on its surface. Then the lid popped off, and the pod’s inner mechanisms lifted a man to the surface. He was middle-aged, with white hair and scruffy stumble, and over a dark, half-shirt and pants he wore a long red coat.
“What…is this?” Absalom snarled.
Letting out a sigh of relief after the brief but rough ride, the newcomer ignored the Avatar of Chaos to pull out a set of three-piece nunchucks from beneath his coat. With countless eyes on him he unfolded the nunchucks and tossed them into the air, at which point the weapon transformed in a burst of light, breaking into three shapes. As they fell the motes resolved into three women with long white hair, dog ears, pointy devil tails, and black suit vests over blood-red shirts, identical except for the color of their eyes: fiery orange, cool blue, and shocking violet. The three grabbed onto the man as he opened his eyes, taking in the sunlit sky.
“Huh…the night’s even younger than I thought!”
Demons hanging off him, Dante grinned at Absalom. “Guess we get to rock around the clock! Cerberus?” In a flash, the devil hunters transformed his maniacal helpers back into nunchucks that he took in hand, each third alight with a different element. Then he beckoned for the Seekers to join him. “Alright, let’s party!”
Absalom howled, and the final battle began.