Iskander held Kyra aloft, his grip on her throat preventing her limp form from collapsing. Her arms hung uselessly, her legs no longer able to support her weight. "Do not move," he commanded, his voice low and laced with a chilling calm.
The Riders froze, even Aethel, his fingers still poised at his jugular notches, drawing in insufficient StreamBreath to activate his Heretic's Rune. Fear for Kyra's life warred with the need to act.
"I understand your abilities now," Iskander smirked, white garments materializing around his body as if woven from thin air.
How? Aethel's mind raced. He had not detected the BlackStone's particles within Iskander. Unless… during the chaos of the fight, he had dispersed and redeposited the particles nearby, reconstructing the device after being imprisoned. Or perhaps he had fused it with his soul, drawing StreamBreath from its stored energy. The implications were terrifying. Aethel cursed his oversight. He should have noticed the missing BlackStone.
"Strike!" Kyra choked out to her teammates', her eyes blazing with defiance. "That's an order!"
"Strike who?" Iskander whispered in her ear, his voice a silken threat. "The taste of my drinks would be spoiled for days if I were to kill such a fine woman."
"As would mine," Aethel interjected, buying time. "I propose an alternative arrangement."
Iskander grinned and leaned in, whispering something into Kyra's ear that sent a wave of terror across her face.
It was the opening Aethel needed. Activating his Heretic's Rune, he expanded a spherical Heretic Field, encompassing the entire hall. Iskander froze, his form once again halting mid-motion. "Fall back!" Aethel roared, drawing his sword.
The seven Riders triggered their Runes. Daed scooped Kyra into his arms and leaped. CodeForger aided Igniss, providing a lift. Aethel accelerated their particles, propelling them out of the Heretic Field and the hall with blinding speed. They scattered, each taking a different path, their movements etched into Aethel's mind.
Once they were safe, Aethel summoned a small Shatter orb. It evaporated, taking Iskander's frozen form with it. A test to confirm his theory. Perfect Shatter erased matter from existence, for all eternity.
He retracted his Heretic Field, observing the results. The strain was immense. He could not maintain the stasis on Iskander for long, yet it bought his comrades precious time.
Suddenly, he felt a drain on his energy. He was right. Iskander had somehow manifested, drawing power from another source. Aethel expanded his Heretic Field and vanished, reappearing high above Elysium, before the now naked immortal.
Iskander regenerated his clothes, a smug smile on his face. Aethel, his gaze locked on the immortal, manipulated the surrounding air particles with Mind-Hand, launching a barrage of accelerated projectiles.
Iskander was too slow. The particles ripped through him, disintegrating his form before continuing to decimate the distant mountains. Yet, moments later, he reappeared, whole and unscathed, launching himself at the Sheriff.
Aethel held his ground, and as Iskander's fist neared his face, it crumbled to dust. The immortal vanished and reappeared, his arm and clothing restored, ready to attack again. The cycle repeated, Iskander relentless, Aethel disintegrating him repeatedly, each reappearance in a new location.
Exhaustion gnawed at Aethel. He needed to stall, to conserve his strength. He threw his katana into the air and disintegrated it, the particles forming his next ammunition. This time, Iskander raised a shimmering white barrier, a wall of light protecting Elysium.
Aethel's projectiles were repelled. Impossible. Only his Heretic Field could halt Soul-Sever particles moving at Ride speed. He needed a distraction.
He enacted a Heretic Field around a nearby floating rock, disintegrating it and launching the particles at the barrier. Then, in a split second, he shifted the zone behind the shield, encompassing Iskander. Accelerating the particles within, he directed them to collide, creating miniature black holes that distorted space and devoured everything in their vicinity.
Aethel vanished, his body screaming in protest.
Minutes later, Iskander reappeared, far from the point of annihilation, his body intact. He turned his head slowly, a smile playing on his lips.
Aethel followed the trail of his comrades, finding them hidden within a jungle atop a massive floating rock. They had concealed their StreamBreath signatures, safe for now. He landed nearby, his body heavy with exhaustion, his heart pounding, blood burning.
"How are you feeling, little girl?" he rasped.
"Bad," Kyra admitted, leaning against a tree. "Whatever he did… it worked."
"Damned monster," Gaia cursed.
"I've calculated the team's chances of survival," Codex-7 announced.
"Shut it, Codex-7!" Igniss snapped.
CodeForger removed his mask, the silver Dust swirling around Kyra, scanning and healing. "Captain, your physical form is perfect," he reported. "The cause is likely soul-related."
"I see," Kyra sighed.
"She needs a RiteMaster," Daed stated.
"Yes," CodeForger agreed as the Dust reformed into his mask. "The chances of survival are rapidly decreasing," Codex-7 added.
"Shut up, Codex-7!" Igniss glared at the mask before turning to Aethel. "What's the plan?"
Aethel had already formulated a solution during his search. "There is an answer," he said, gazing at the sky, the suns a brilliant beacon against the blue. He listened to the birdsong, felt the breeze against his skin, and inhaled the scents of spring.
His Heretic's Rune, Statis Domain, granted him control over aspects of reality that other Riders deemed impossible. He could teleport within his Heretic Fields, deflect any particle with Mind-Hand, and disintegrate objects by manipulating their very structure. He possessed unparalleled perception, able to process information and identify objects within his zones at impossible speeds. And, most importantly, he could accelerate and decelerate particles to his will, halting movement or colliding them at Ride speed.
"What do you have in mind?" Kyra asked.
Aethel outlined his plan to all except Igniss's task. He needed to limit the information Iskander could potentially extract. "I've kept Igniss's task a secret," he explained after returning from a private discussion with the Dragon. "You all know too much. Do not let him taste your blood, and keep the Mind-Lace deactivated."
"We understand," Gaia nodded. "Captain, wish us luck."
CodeForger's mask reformed, and he stood. "Captain." He nodded respectfully.
Kyra smiled. "Good work, as always."
All eyes turned to her.
"I apologize," she said, guilt filling her voice. "This is my fault. If I had contacted the Aggregate, if I had listened, if I had been more careful…"
"You were right not to trust him," Aethel interrupted gently. "And right not to consider peace." ShadowOne's intel confirmed Iskander's deceitful nature.
"He who breaks his word once will break it twice," Kyra recited the Aggregate's teachings.
"And forever break it when giving it to others," Aethel added.
"If, is the one word that invokes misfortune," Gaia mused.
"Captain, we follow you because you are flawed," Igniss said. "That's what makes you perfect. Otherwise, it would be boring."
"Your decision was logical given our intel," CodeForger reassured her.
Daed simply grinned.
"Aethel," Kyra called out.
"Yes?"
"Before you go… why did you leave?"
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Aethel joked.
"Anything you want," Kyra smiled.
Aethel felt a weight lift from his chest. "When I joined the old fool, I did unspeakable things for self-preservation. But seeing our people prosper after the war, I believed my actions were justified. Until I witnessed something that shattered my faith in his will and my own." He had followed an illusion, a mirage, only to find his path stained with blood. "I realized I had been robbed of my life, little girl. I had robbed myself. So I left, seeking peace in death."
"That's why you said I had much to learn," Kyra whispered.
"A Nomad turned Rider, evolved into a Lain," CodeForger mused. "A fascinating evolution."
"We are bred to kill," Gaia argued. "We are Riders, and Riders are killers. Our powers are proof."
Aethel disagreed. "No. Riders are meant to explore Exoklein. Our powers were meant for that. But distorted beliefs have clouded the truth."
"Says the best killer in Exoklein," Igniss spat. "You disappoint me."
"Say what you will."
"But we have a duty to protect our own!" Gaia insisted.
"Aye, I agree," Aethel affirmed. Killing for gain or glory was folly. Killing for other ends, a fallacy. But killing to protect… that was a devotion he respected. "I never regretted killing to protect my own. But I killed for other ends, and that haunts me."
"Killing for justice!" Gaia exclaimed. "What about bringing murderers to justice?"
"Killing those who kill to protect others is protection."
"You're bending your rules, twisting words," Gaia accused. "You can apply that argument to anything."
"Which is why I left," Aethel said. "Holding the blade clouds one's vision. Leaving it behind clarifies the line."
"When you leave, who will protect those you hold dear?" Gaia challenged.
"They must protect themselves," Aethel whispered, knowing he was contradicting his actions.
"You didn't mention what you witnessed," Daed said. "The thing that made you leave."
Aethel smiled sadly. "You don't want to know."
"You don't need to justify your choice. You've done enough," Kyra said. "You deserve to have what you want."
"Thank you, little girl," Aethel said, his heart full. "Now, my turn. What did he whisper to you?"
"Does it matter?"
"It matters to me."
"He told me his name," Kyra confessed. "But I'm sure he was trying to instill fear and doubt."
"What did he say?" Aethel pressed.
"Come closer."
He leaned in, his ear close to her lips.
"He said… one of my names is Cronos," she whispered.
Horror washed over Aethel. Cronos. A name from the myths, a name of a Primordial. If not for the solution he had devised…
"Thank you, little girl." He activated the Akashic-Key Rune, as did the others. He left a message detailing their encounter, entrusting it to Primal.
A second later, they deactivated the Rune. A smile, almost manic, spread across their faces.
"What classification?" Codex-7 wondered, since she broke off the conscious link with CodeForger.
"Do you need to ask?" Gaia replied to Codex-7's unvoiced question.
"I'm counting on you all," Kyra said, pride shining in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I cannot join you. But know that I am proud of you. All of you. Even you, drunk fool."
Aethel and the others returned her smile.
"Good hunting," Aethel said before leaping skyward, his BlackStone charged and ready. The remaining four followed, leaving Kyra alone in the silent jungle.
"Godspeed," she whispered, her gaze following their fading forms. The sound of footsteps approaching startled her. Fear lanced through her, unable to see who or what drew near. "Who goes there?" she called out, her voice trembling.