"Why is this boy taking so long!" A stout five feet three-inch-tall woman exclaimed. The sunbeams shone on her rich brown skin giving them an almost coffee bean colour. She knocked on the door again this time harder before screaming, "JOHAN! Tètè wá, ọmọkùnrin!" suddenly the door opened causing her to stumble forward directly into Johan's bare, muscular chest.
"Yes Akeelah?" Johan asked with baritone, Akeelah blushed slightly before pushing off his chest.
"I've been knocking for the past half hour, at least come out with a shirt on!" she spoke exasperated. She looked at him before sighing and turning around, "The commander is calling for you." Johan's eyes widen and he began slightly shaking.
"I'll be right there." He said quickly.
"Also make sure you take a bath; you're drenched in sweat." Akeelah said walking away.
Johan quickly returned to his room and threw himself into his bath. His mind wandered as he recalled the previous day's events. 'What did she mean by her son, she can't possibly mean…" Johan's eyes widened, and the room began to spin, he tried to brace against the wall, but he slipped on the wet floor. He took heavy breaths trying to calm himself down, 'She's here in Baria! No that can't be!' Johan's thoughts raced, as he closed his eyes to calm himself, 'Let's think logically here. Mira is a pathological liar she most likely was trying to get into my head. But how would she know about my mother, my information isn't public knowledge as far as I know. Dammit, I'm getting nowhere thinking about this! I also need to meet Sigmund.' He sighed before finishing his bath.
Johan exited his room and began walking down the indistinguishable black, stone brick hallways of the Milita base. 'Haven't I passed this room already' he thought looking to his right. He sighed before looking towards a nearby wall and saying, "Mela, I need to see Sigmund, now! I don't have time for games!"
Suddenly a few bricks began shifting out of place and a head of straight, ginger hair popped out. The face associated with the hair was that of a girl of similar age to Johan, with fiery brown eyes.
"You're no fun!" Mela said pouting, crossing her arms. She then rose her right hand and swiped the air leftward, suddenly loud groans echoed, and dust fell from the ceiling as rooms, doors and stairs suddenly moved forming a seemingly endless corridor with a large cedar double door at the end. "Hey Johan, before you go, if you see Dela tell her to meet me please, thank you!" before Johan could respond, the bricks returned to their original position and Mela disappeared like a mere apparition.
"She always does this." Johan sighed before moving across the hallway to a window. He saw tiny specs of green, assumedly trees and other alchemists walking, but most importantly he saw Vorst's ever-present smog. "I'm really on the tenth floor, look at you prodigy." Johan whistled, before walking toward the double door and gingerly opening it into a circular room. The centrepiece of the room was a large circular window, almost shaped like an eye, allowing the sun's rays to penetrate the room. The light fell on a small, simple table cluttered with books and various documents, and numerous bookshelves around the room making it feel larger than it was. In the centre of the eye-shaped window was a man of average height with a black trench coat looking down on the city below. The Milita base was an obelisk-like structure, built entirely of blackened stone bricks constantly surrounded by smog, in the epicentre of the Vorst district a glorified shantytown.
"Do you know the story of Sir. Thwane, Johan?" he asked the bass in his voice reverberating throughout Johan's body.
"Wasn't he a great Beranian warrior, who single handedly stopped the Orthodox invasion? Isn't that only a myth?" Johan asked hesitantly.
"It is history, our history." He responded, "It has been relegated to myth to not tarnish Sir. Thwane's legacy because in his death he became an enemy of Beran." Johan's eyes widened upon hearing this. "He was summoned by the King at the time, Alexander the fourth, and he took seven days to make his way to the king. When he presented himself before the king he stunk of beer. He was executed on the spot." The man then turned around to face Johan, his hollow, white eyes looking deep into his soul. "So, tell me Johan, should I just kill you now."
Johan fell on one knee and looked straight at the ground, before saying with a shaky voice, "I humbly apologize, leader Sigmund!"
"Lift your head, time is of the essence" Sigmund said before taking two small pictures from his table and walking toward the kneeling Johan. "Look at this." He said showing him the first picture. It contained a group of four men, three of whom had a brown trench coat with the alchemic symbol on their left sleeve interacting in a location that seemed like a bar. Johan analysed the photo for a few moments, paying particular interest to an old man in the centre of the photo.
"Isn't that John Cramlin!" Johan exclaimed in disbelief, "Why is he with Milita members, don't those Reversionists hate us?"
"That is precisely what we want to know." Sigmund replied. "Your mission is as follows: You are to make contact with our informant in the Reversionist party at midnight tonight, he will be at 'The Ovoline' bar. Those alchemists will definitely be there, as I believe they are growing suspicious of our informant." He then took the second picture and gave it to Johan. He saw a short man with a large grey beard and several pronounced wrinkles that spoke stories each their own novel. He had a simple, light grey two-piece suit and pitch-black dress shoes, he had his left hand around a woman with a small gold ring around his ring finger.
"This is him?" Johan asked raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, until recently he was only a low-ranking member. However, he recently started climbing the ranks at an unprecedented rate. One day he entered an Imperium meeting and told one of the higher-ups that he wished to give information on the Reversionists. So, from that point they made it my issue." Sigmund replied, "His name is Montgomery Peniu and he is Vorst's spokesman"
"This will be a bit tricky. I can hide my alchemic mark with gloves but if those alchemists are Milita, they will know my face." Johan said rubbing his bare chin.
"Hence why you have permission to use full force." "I want you to wipe those traitors off the face of the earth." When Johan saw Sigmund's hollow eyes he began to sweat profusely, until Sigmund turned around and returned to his window.
"When you return, I will give you the details for the second part of the mission."
"Yes, Leader!" "Actually, Leader do you know if-" before he could finish, he remembered Sigmund's eyes and began to shiver. "Never mind, it isn't important."
Leaving the room, silence taking his place. Sigmund looked upon Vorst, the district decrepit and smog filled, it was his city, his home. Its ceaseless poverty the womb that birth him, its trash filled streets his nursery, the whores his caretakers, the criminals his playmates. He would not hand it over to anyone. Suddenly, he was standing in a void of darkness.
"You came here quickly Bureau scum. But sending someone of your level was foolish on Malcom's part." he replied to no one. Suddenly a hooded figure slinked through the inky darkness, his knife ready to devour Sigmund's blood. 'Die!' the assassin thought to himself before he felt a sharp pain in his neck and the world began to spin. Suddenly the darkness receded, and Sigmund had not moved an inch, yet the assassin somehow was being suspended in the air, merely seeing Sigmund's back, his breathing becoming extremely difficult.
"Eat, sleep, reproduce and die. Eat, sleep, reproduce and die. Eat, sleep, reproduce and die! Go to war and make war, kill and be killed. What is the purpose? What is the ideal? No one can answer that why. That is the epitome of human nature, and it disgusts me." Sigmund now turned to face the assassin, his hollow eyes staring directly into the assassin's black eyes and pale face. 'I can't breathe!' he thought, he tried lifting his arms to remove the terrible blockage in his throat but he couldn't feel them, he couldn't feel anything. Suddenly, memories of his life began flashing in his mind, only to disappear into nothing. He tried to move, to grasp at his memories before they disappeared, hold them, cherish them. But he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. All he could think of the eyes of Sigmund, he didn't see him as a threat much less a human being. It wasn't pity, or disgust, he didn't see him at all to Sigmund he wasn't important enough to even observe. His eyes frantically darted around, until he landed on a body without a head, his body, blood pooling out of where his neck should be. "D-ddevil." The assassin said weakly drawing his final breath.
"Do you believe I will look like that way when I die Dela?" Sigmund asked the woman who held the assassin's head in her right hand and a long-curved dagger, drenched in blood in her left hand. Her pale, white face was dotted with droplets of blood not her own, as her empty black eyes stared at Sigmund.
"No master, there is no creature on this earth who can kill you, you are Sigmund Agustus." Dela said prostrating before Sigmund, who simply turned his head and continued looking upon his city.
"Remember Dela, one's life is only fulfilled with death." He said before motioning his hand causing Dela to throw the assassin's head on top of his body. She then took a lighter from her trench coat pocket and threw it on the body, engulfing it in flames. The light illuminating her black hair, and alchemic mark tattooed on her neck
_________________________
The winding, claustrophobic streets of Vorst were dotted by the illumination of broken lampposts and the moon occasionally peering through the smog. It was on the cusp of no longer being considered a city, as a unlike the Tivora district's decedent greenery that mirrored the lifestyle of its residents or the Pario district's industrial boom, Vorst was epitomised by broken buildings and trash littered streets. The residents lived in squalor desperately fighting to see another day. Children lay dishevelled on the roadside as prostitutes sold their bodies to men far richer than them. However, there was a singular light that always shone, 'The Ovoline'.
It had been built three years ago, after the Reversionist party bought a large portion of Vorst from the ruling Imperium party. Almost immediately it became the central hub of Vorst. No matter the time-of-day, laughter and gaiety were commonplace in its opulent halls. To that fact, compared the rest of Vorst 'The Ovoline' was a decadent three story building whose granite columns reflected the miniscule light of Vorst, making it glow. The rich cedar wood elevated its ambience all the while its greenery was always perfect despite the smog and grime. Its regulars where people from all walks of life, from thieves and murderers to high-ranking Reversionist members. Despite the varying social and economic statuses, they would all come together to laugh, drink and debate politics.
"If I were the reg-ent I would fix the ecconomy riiiight up!" An inebriated old man spoke to the young black-haired man in a grey suit who sat opposite him.
"And how would you do that gramps?" The young man spoke laughing before taking a sip of his drink. The old man coughed before a large, toothy grin appeared on his bearded face, his rosy cheeks beaming with excitement.
"What. Do you k-kknow about subli and daman?"
"Do you mean supply and demand?!" another man on the table said laughing, slapping the table, a chorus of laughter following him.
"Hehe, yeah that. So, I ww-ould use that abandoned land on the coast for farmland. Ttt-hen I would sell the produce to those damn desert dwellers."
"I don't see how that would work though." The young man replied laughing, "I mean any self-respecting Beranian hates those damned desert monkeys."
"You're right about that youngin'!" A man with a large scar across his left eye and dirty auburn hair said.
"Well, I suppose so." The old man said leaning back before rubbing his eyes.
'Clink' the bar's door sounded as four each with brown trench coats entered. They were all of similar heights, with only minute differences separating their faces.
"Well look what the cat dragged in!" A woman in the bar shouted, this caused a, eruption of jubilation conversation, laughter and gaity. Amidst this the old man tapped the black-haired man on the shoulder.
"I'm feeling a bit light-headed, help me out lad." He was pointing to a small room at the back of the bar. The young man nodded before standing revealing all six feet eight inches of his frame, he then put the old man on his back and walked towards the room. The room was significantly quieter, than the bar's main floor. It barely had enough room for one person, and a small portion of it was taken up by a metal pail with vomit. The black-haired man put down the old man and waited for him to speak
"Why are ye standin there like an idiot?"
"I was waiting for to speak, you were the one that wanted to meet remember."
"Respect yer elders, alchemist."
"Don't you at least want to know my name?" the black-haired man asked sighing.
"Yer Johan Franz, Milita captain of the Special Division. I very well know who you are, let's hurry this up." The old man said with a scowl
"Very well Mr. Peniu. What's the information you so desperately wanted to give us?"
"The Reversionist faction higher ups are planning a coup d'etat." Mr. Peniu said removing a cigar from his pocket and lighting it. He took a long draw and blew the spoke upwards at Johan. "They want to hit a single decisive blow on the Imperium; they're main target the Regent and the star council."
Johan had a thoughtful look, his mind ran through various options of what to say, until he spoke, "They aren't stupid enough to do that, even if they convince the army to join one alchemist is worth ten regular soldiers in combat."
"That's why they're secretly recruiting registered and unregistered alchemists."
"That doesn't make sense though, their entire ideology is a hatred of alchemists. So why would they recruit them?"
"You're too much of an idealist alchemist. Have you considered the possibility that the ends justify the means? I thought that's you Milita folk's motto was."
"I'm beginning to believe you have a problem alchemists. If you hated us, then why the hell did you defect? Are you going senile? Or did they not give the chance to be a higher up?"
Mr. Peniu now stood to his feet and walked up to Johan, his eyes red with rage. "Now look here boy! You don't know anything about what goes on in this world, yer just a minnow in an ocean of sharks! Keep following orders! Keep taking life for yer so-called noble cause! Just leave us regular folks outta it! Cause that's all yer good for, you just take and take and take! So you shut the hell up with yer self-righteous drivel and let me do what's best for my people!"
Johan took in the man before him, his face was flush with anger, his hands where clenched so tightly they seemed primed to explode in a hail of blood and muscle but his eyes were red on the verge of tears. Before Johan could speak, he heard a small click and felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. Without hesitation, he took the metallic glasses from his face the glass fell out and the metal contorted into a sharp metal spike which he threw at the door. It pierced through and fleshy squelch, into a thud emitted from outside the door. He then used his shoulder to break down the door revealing five men in black suits and an additional one dead on the ground. The two at Johan's left held cutlasses, with the three ahead of him, having musket trained on him. Johan quickly glanced downwards noticing the musket on the ground. He quickly picked it up before aiming and firing on one of the men with the muskets. He fell to the ground dead. Before the men others could fire their weapons, he threw the used musket at one of them hitting his face. He fired his musket out of panic, hitting the wall behind Johan causing the people in the bar to panic and run about.
The other two man ran at Johan while Johan ran towards the final man with musket. The man aimed his musket at Johan head, seeing this Johan took a small metal knife from inside his suit and threw it, piercing the man between the eyes. As the man fell backwards Johan removed the knife from, the man's forehead and spun around, blocking a downward strike from a cutlass. He looked to his left and saw a blade approaching his arm. He took a deep breath and extended his palm to block the blade; it cut slightly into his palm before the metal seemingly liquified and wrapped itself around Johan's arm. He took his now metallic arm and sent a left hook into the man's skull leaving an indentation, the man fell the ground dead. He turned and looked and the other man who was quivering in fear. Johan took hold of his neck with metallic arm and squeezed until his windpipe snapped. He then knelt on the ground and stabbed the musket man that was beginning to get up in the chest.
Before Johan could think, the door suddenly burst open and twenty men all dressed in black flooded into the room, with various weapons at the ready. Any civilian that hadn't already left the Ovoline, were either cowering behind the main counter or using the round tables as makeshift barricades. A with a dirty, patchy beard stepped out from among the twenty assailants with a large smirk on his face. Mr. Peniu, who was previously on his face down covering his head, had gotten up and slowly exited the room. Once he laid eyes on the group, particularly the man with the patchy beard, his eyes widened.
"What's the meaning of this George!" Mr. Peniu demanded, George smirked in response.
"Did you really think you could betray the party forever?" Mr. Peniu took a step back.
"You're my bodyguards! You think you can just harm me; the party won't forgive any of you!"
George sighed, before twirling a dagger in his hand. "Are you going senile old man? The party sent us. Anyway, tell your wife I said hello." He then threw his dagger with immense speed directly towards Mr. Peniu's head. Before it could stab him, Johan grabbed the dagger out the air and began twirling it.
"Hey old man, stay there I'll deal with them."
"There are twenty of them idiot!"
"Remember when I said one alchemist is worth ten regular soldiers, well I'm worth twenty."
The moment Johan finished he threw the dagger at blinding speeds, George was barely able to react in time, ducking to avoid certain death but the man behind him was not so lucky. 'Nineteen' Johan thought running at the assailants who drew their swords and all charged at him. He ducked underneath a blade swipe, placed his hand on the ground and spun his leg connecting with the skull of the man ahead of him. He took a quick scan of his surroundings seeing that he was surrounded by five men. Before his feet hit the ground he wrapped his legs around the neck of the men, he then rotated his body snapping the man's neck, 'Eighteen'. He released the man's neck spinning in the air. A sword was thrust directly towards his chest, but he blocked using his metallic arm. He landed, hit the one who tried to stab him with an open palm to the chin. He was quickly interrupted by various swords attempting to pierce his chest. He pulled the bodyguard next to him in front of the incoming blades, piercing the bodyguard instead, 'Seventeen'. Johan swung his metallic arm, the metal contorting into a blade that decapitated three men in its path, 'Fourteen'.
Two men quickly engaged Johan in swordplay, their blow being elegantly blocked. He glanced behind him and noticed the men had managed to remove their blades from their partners bodies. 'Faster. Need to go faster!' Johan thought, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He kicked the man directly before him create space. A quick diagonal slash took the man to his left's head clean off, 'Thirteen'. He dashed forward impaling the man he just kicked in the heart, 'Twelve'. He released his sword ducking underneath a horizontal slash behind him and jumping to his right to avoid the follow-up strikes from the other assailants. Now out of the circle of death, he leapt unto the counter and grabbed several bottles of alcohol. He threw them at the men indiscriminately buying himself a few extra seconds of reprieve. He leapt backwards off the counter and say the musket on the ground particularly the metal segments. He touched them and almost immediately, they began daggers. The swarm had once again come upon him, but this time he had cleaving through the as if dancing. A slash to neck, a quick stab even a toss between the eyes, nothing was off limits, until the climax was reached. Behind him lay thirteen bodyguards' bloodied corpses and before stood a terrified George.
"One more." Johan said breathing heavily, his face and suit stained with blood. George ran forward and wildly swung his sword, causing Johan to take several steps backwards to avoid behind cut open. Eventually he got the time down, blocking an upwards slash with his right hand and thrusting the dagger in his left directly into George's skull, killing him. He took heavy breaths before turning around and looking towards the balcony. One of the four alchemists was looking down at him with a neutral face.
"You're, huff, huff, huff, next!" Johan said pointing directly at the alchemist
"Let's take this outside, I don't want to damage this place anymore." The man said returning to the room he just exited. Johan kept his back to the door and slowly exited the Ovoline. The Street was pitch black the only light, being that of the Ovoline, illuminating Johan and shrouding the figures of four men on the building's roof in darkness.
"Why were you talking Mr. Montgomery captain Johan?" The rightmost one asked in a shrill voice.
"Did he really betray us?" The leftmost one questioned in a deep voice.
"Are you willing to join us?" The central on enquired in a thoughtful voice.
"Or do you want to kill us?" The backmost one queried with a booming voice.
Johan stood catching his breath, pondering his next move. "Join you in the Reversionist Party?" The stood quietly before laughing in unison their voices combining into an ocean of sound.
"The Reversionist party are nothing more than a means to an end." The central one spoke up, walking to the edge of the roof. "We serve our lady in white."
"And who is this lady in white?"
"Our mother." The backmost alchemist exclaimed. Johan began walking away, the light from the Ovoline becoming a distant memory, the assailants were leaping from building to building following him.
"She is the one who will deliver us all." The leftmost alchemist continued.
"I'm not interested in some crazy religion and what do you mean by a means to an end?"
"You're wasting our time captain, we want an answer now! Will you or won't you join us?" The central alchemist demanded. Johan sighed as the cloud that was over them passed by and the moon lay directly behind the alchemists.
"For the crime of treason and conspiracy against both the state and Milita corps of the alchemist association, I captain Johan Franz sentence you all to death."
The central alchemist said regretfully upon hearing this and simply said, "Then it seems we have nothing to discuss."
Suddenly all four leapt into the air covering the moon and its light. Unexpectedly blinded, Johan instinctively leapt backwards grabbing hold of an iron pole on the ground with his right. It suddenly contorted, stretching out into a long double-edged blade. The alchemist with the booming voice landed on the ground first, dashing toward Johan before throwing a jab at his face. Johan tilted his head to the left, before swinging the blade upward. Instead of cutting through the alchemist's body as he expected, Johan's blade harmlessly whizzed through the air. His questioning was halted by the sharp pain he felt in his right leg. Before he could address the pain caused by the glass shard lodged in his calf, Johan quickly raised his left hand to redirect the metal nails launched at him.
A loud 'Whoosh' entered Johan's left ear causing him to quickly drop his head barely avoiding a powerful right hook from the alchemist with the booming voice. In the blink of an eye, his vision was filled with the bottom of a boot as it collided with his face. He was sent flying backwards, only stopping when his back made intimate contact with the wall of a building.
Shakily standing to his feet, he saw all four alchemists who stood opposing him. He wiped his bloody nose, before bending over and removing the glass shard embedded in his calf. He took a deep breath and clutched his blade tightly, steeling himself and his nerves. The central alchemist placed his hands on the ground, at that instant the leftmost and rightmost alchemist were launched from the stone ground toward Johan. The leftmost alchemist swung his left leg towards Johan's left side whilst the rightmost alchemist raised his hands, pushing Johan towards his partner. Johan anticipated the push and turned himself making his blade point toward the leftmost alchemist's heart. Seeing his mistake the rightmost alchemist violently pulled down both his hands. Johan's right hand was suddenly sent downward, Johan however expected this as a smile crept on his face. He twisted his body in the same direction his arm was forced down; this caused him to spin midair as he was elevated above the incoming kick. His body twisted as his right struck the top of the leftmost alchemist's head, the sheer weight and speed of the kick immediately concussed the alchemist.
Blinded by anger the alchemist with booming voice rushed forward only for his head to be pierced by the blade thrown by Johan. Quickly turning himself, he kicked some gravel on the ground blinding the rightmost alchemist. As he ran toward the rightmost alchemist, the central alchemist was in the air next to Johan, a sharpened stone in his left hand.
'I was waiting for this moment.' Johan thought a large toothy smile spread across his face. When the central alchemist saw Johan's eyes, filled with ecstasy, his heart filled with fear. Johan's eyes shifted to the side of his face, left hand swung connecting the alchemist's face sending him hurtling to the ground. This decision however turned out to be a mistake as he was suddenly blasted across the street connecting the wall of another building. Johan coughed blood as he felt a pain he had never experienced, before he was able to hit the ground he was suddenly pressed against the wall by an invisible force, the bricks behind him breaking. Johan felt like his blood vessels were about to explode, as he felt his bones breaking one by one. In front of his eyes stood the rightmost, with both his arms outstretched. Large amounts of blood leaked from his eyes, nose, ears and even mouth; it was a miracle he was even standing. 'Air pressure?!' Johan thought desperately pushing back against the ever-increasing pressure, only to be pushed deeper into the wall as the rightmost alchemist began screaming.
"Keep him pinned Down!" the central alchemist screamed, "As long as he can't touch anything metal, we'll be fine!"
'What the hell, I've never seen alchemy be this strong! It shouldn't be, the human body has limits, alchemy of this level is clearly beyond those limits!' Johan thought now closing his eyes as many cuts began opening on his skin causing blood to gush out. His breathing became harder, he felt like his everything down to his nerves were being squeezed and to top it off he vaguely heard the voice of the central alchemist.
Johan's mind wandered to a memory he had forgotten; no, he had buried. He saw himself as a child covered in blood, in the midst of a collapsed building. In his eyes he saw nothing, no soul, no emotion. His younger self looked him dead in the eyes before saying, "You look pathetic right now. Do you think you even stand a chance against mother?" Johan screamed, he felt his synapses burning and his blood boiling. He couldn't die here! He refused to die here! Without warning it felt as though something inside him was unlocked. The ground suddenly began to rumble, causing the alchemists to look down. At that moment several metal poles and pipe shot out of the ground and skewered the men. The one who manipulated the air pressure had become an attachment of the pipes however the central one, who Johan assumed was the leader was barely able to avoid getting skewered, although he lost the bottom half of his body in exchange. Johan slowly limped toward him, his broken bones aching with every step as the blood ran down his body.
"I finally understand my she chose you!" The leader chackled.
"Shut up and die already." Johan said breathing heavily.
x"When the time comes for her to meet you, allow her to liberate you as she once did." A smile was plastered across his face when he took his final breath. Johan could barely process what had just happened, before he saw the bodies of the alchemist's begin expanding and releasing smoke. He immediately recognized what was about to happen and used what little strength he had left to force his arms upward. Metal began shooting out from the ground attempting to create a dome around the bodies, but it was a little too late. Before the dome was completely the bodies realised their contained energy.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!", the energy forced itself first upwards and then outwards. Fire and ash rained from the sky as the heat, immolated the nearby surroundings. It was as if a dragon had laid siege to the city. Amidst the ash and burning rubble, Montgomery was desperately searching for Johan.
"Youngin! Youngin!! Where are ye boy!" He desperately clawed around moving pieces of debris and rubble burning his hands in the process. "Johan! Johan!"
Johan barely raised himself off the ground, his was charred, covered head to toe in burns, his once long black hair was singed leaving only a small part of it unharmed. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, holding unto life through willpower alone.
"Can't die yet" he muttered, "Not yet." He suddenly lost consciousness only to be caught by Montgomery who drew him into an embrace.
"I won't let you die child! This time I won't let you die!" he held Johan close and began slowly walking with him on his back through the smouldering ruins, never noticing that Johan's alchemic mark was blinking red.