The four of them — Phaser, Rielinne, Syraleh, and the white-clad priestess — moved through the shattered remains of the district. The air was heavy with the scent of iron and smoke. Every step squelched faintly against the blood-soaked streets.
The crimson puddles on the ground were moving. At first, Syraleh thought it was just the wind disturbing the liquid, but it was pulling itself together. Her steps faltered.
"Uh… Rielinne?"
Rielinne turned her head just in time to see what Syraleh saw. Veins of red floated through the roads, moving upward. All around them, the blood from every fallen body began to rise, defying gravity. Streams of it floated upward until they converged high above the street. Within seconds, a massive sphere of blood was forming above the district.
"Holy—" Syraleh's voice caught in her throat. "Is that thing alive?"
Rielinne's eyes widened slightly. This was a rare display of visible shock from her.
"No. But it's being controlled."
"By what?"
Before Rielinne could answer, the priestess walked beneath the growing sphere, her white robes untouched by the floating mist of crimson droplets that fell like rain. Phaser followed behind her, his hands in his pockets as he watched the sky.
"Looks like someone's doing cleanup."
The priestess didn't answer.
As they moved through the district, the silence grew heavier. Every street they passed was littered with corpses all frozen in grotesque expressions of pain. Some had been torn apart by Iserra's darts, others shredded by Naelle's claws or Esmodra's blades, but none of them bled anymore. Every wound was dry. The blood had left them completely, drawn upward toward that hovering monstrosity of a sphere.
By the time they reached the central plaza, the entire place was dead silent.
Not a single soul stirred. Every surviving person suddenly convulsed, their veins bulging as the last of their blood tore free from their bodies, flying skyward in crimson streams. The screams didn't last long. After a few minutes, there was nothing but the colossal sphere of blood, swirling gently above the square like some grotesque, divine moon. Syraleh could barely breathe.
"Okay. That's not something you see every day."
Rielinne frowned. "Correction. That's not something anyone should see. Ever."
Phaser's tone was mild. "Relax. If it was hostile, we'd be dead already."
"Very comforting, Master," Syraleh muttered dryly.
That was when the others arrived.
A shadow swept across the rooftops and one by one, the Null Handmaidens appeared. They landed lightly around Rielinne and Syraleh, the air buzzing faintly from their arrival. Naelle was the first to speak, brushing blood from her cheek.
"So, I take it we're the last ones to the party?"
Rielinne gave her a look. "You also caused half of this massacre, so congratulations."
Naelle laughed softly. "What can I say? Efficiency's a talent."
Iserra's voice was quiet but precise.
"Three hundred and three confirmed kills. Collateral remains uncountable."
"Understatement of the century," Syraleh muttered, glancing up at the floating sphere.
Phaser turned slightly, his eyes scanning the new arrivals.
"Good timing. You're all here."
Enheduanna inclined her head.
"Mission completed, Master. The decoy worked. But…"
She looked around at the corpses, her calm voice faltering slightly. "This wasn't us."
Rielinne nodded. "We noticed. That sphere's been forming since we left the shrine."
"Then who—"
Esmodra started but her words died as the priestess stepped forward. She raised her hand and for the first time, she unsheathed the Blood Odachi. The air shuddered as the blade left its black scabbard parting to reveal a crimson edge that glowed faintly, pulsing in time with the sphere above. Syraleh took an involuntary step back.
"That's the Blood Odachi?"
The priestess said nothing. She simply pointed the blade toward the heavens.
The sphere, as though obeying a silent command, moved. It rippled then descended in tendrils of blood, swirling faster and faster as it was drawn toward the Odachi's blade. Wind tore through the square. The ground cracked beneath their feet as the sphere was pulled into the sword. Tens of thousands of liters of blood was compressed into a single line of crimson that streamed into the weapon. Syraleh threw up her arms to shield her face from the gushing surge of energy.
"Holy shit!"
Naelle's Null Smoke whipped around her to block the force.
"She's... she's absorbing it all?!"
Rielinne's cloak flared in the wind as she watched. "That sword is feeding."
Through it all, the priestess stood perfectly still. The gale whipped her hair loose but her stance didn't waver. Her expression didn't change. It was as if she were one with the weapon.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. The sky went still. The light faded. The enormous sphere was gone. Not a drop of blood remained. The Odachi gleamed a deeper crimson than before. The priestess exhaled slowly, then sheathed it. The instant the blade slid home, it vanished, dissolving into thin air like it had never existed.
Silence fell. Not even the wind dared to move. Phaser stepped forward, breaking the silence.
"Alright, I'll bite. Who are you?"
The priestess looked at him, her gaze still calm.
"That, I cannot tell you. Not yet. Not when others are listening."
"That's cryptic."
"It's necessary."
"Then at least answer this. How did you know my name? You called me 'Master Phaser' before I even revealed myself."
The priestess smiled faintly, as though the question amused her.
"Because you bear a blessing. Any priestess can sense the names of those who have been touched by divinity. Your soul blessed by a Deity."
That drew murmurs from the Null Handmaidens. Naelle whistled low.
"Well, damn, Master. Didn't know you were famous in heaven."
Syraleh folded her arms. "Or infamous."
Rielinne sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"That explains her reaction earlier… but it still raises a hundred more questions."
Iserra was the one who brought the conversation back to the mission.
"Orders, Master? We've completed the objective. The Blood Odachi has been retrieved. What are our next steps?"
Esmodra nodded beside her, visibly nervous but trying to look composed.
"Yeah, do we extract or we wait for the next horror show?"
Enheduanna's calm voice cut through.
"The district is collapsing. We don't have much time. They stability is deteriorating."
Phaser looked at all six of the Null Handmaidens, plus Rielinne and Syraleh. Then he looked back at the priestess, whose expression remained perfectly calm, as though the destruction around them didn't exist.
"Alright, we regroup at the cave. No one splits up. Once we're out of this field, you," he pointed at the priestess, "and I are having a very long conversation."
She inclined her head slightly.
"As you wish, Master Phaser."
The title made Syraleh snort. "You really have to stop letting people call you that, Master. You're starting to sound like some divine warlord."
"You literally call me Master."
"The way she says it speaks about devotion while ours is about loyalty."