A man walks out of a stinking sewer's gate with the sound of liquid hitting the wall with high velocity and melting it with its corrosive properties.
The man, tall with a large frame, was sculpted in a way that shows he had seen years of battle without him even speaking a word of his experiences, even with his full body covered in metal and cloth.
He walks to a wall heavily and slumps down onto his bottom, a tired sigh escaping his lips as he rests for the first time in hours, perhaps days even.
And mysteriously, the malformed image of his left hand starts to become vastly more ethereal than its previous state, slowly becoming dimmer and dimmer until the only thing remaining is a fleshy stump.
The man winces when looking at it, wincing even further when he touches the almost entirely black parts of it, an ailment that was not there before.
He waves it around, tensing muscles, squeezing the air with a phantom feeling of a hand not there.
"Sighhhhhh- I knew there was going to be downsides to this power. I mean, of course there would be. What would you expect from this god-forsaken world!"
His voice, the voice of Corvo Attano, shouts out, slamming his even further mangled stump that remains of his previous hand into the wall, shouting out in sheer frustration.
Though he calms himself quickly after, resting his face into his palm and breathing heavily, attempting with the entirety of his focus to do away with the agonising ringing and the horrid voices that plague his mind.
'My lovvveeeee~ just look how close we are now! Oh how I've longed for such a day with you~!'
'Don't listen to her rambling, Corvo. Get up, now! You have a mission to complete.'
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!"
And finally, he could not bear it. He rages around, destroying everything that enters his vision with a seething fury constantly amplified by a never-ending loop of intruding voices and the presence of the void's influence on him.
But just as quickly as the horrid voices arrived to poison his mind, they… they disappeared. Disappeared so quickly and completely that the only evidence, if it could be called that, of its existence being the carnage left in his wake.
"Huff…huff…huuuuuu-phewww.. Jesus, what in the void is wrong with me."
He is left breathing heavily, this time flat on his back and staring up at the dim grey skyline and smelling the rotting smell of feces, human and otherwise, as well as the pungent scent of corpses.
'I need to finish this. If not a way that will bring me home, at least I will save Emily and Callista and bring them away from this shithole. Maybe try to find some sort of tropical island and settle down….yeah, that sounds nice.'
He allows himself to daydream, to savour the few moments of pure clarity that have become a rarity in this new chaos his mind has been embedded with. A state he instinctively, if not having already pieced it together himself, feels that will return soon enough.
And it's in his absentminded state that he does remember all of what had led to this.
…
…
(Flashback-1 hour ago)
A voice, filled with a calm wisdom that tells of years of experience, echoed deeply throughout Corvo's mind—and completely freezing him in his tracks all the while, washing all of the heightened emotion away instantly.
'Daud?!'
His internal voice shouts loudly at the sheer shock of hearing your greatest enemy, one you killed nonetheless, speak to you inside your own thoughts…. And having the gall to give some positive reinforcement!
'Daud? Is that really you?! Don't tell me I absorbed you, alongside your mark?'
His disbelief could be heard as clear as day if anyone else could hear such thoughts from Corvo, yet even still, he gets no reply from the person seemingly stored inside his head, leaving only a fear of what this could mean, but mostly, it cooled his emotions enough to think logically to combat the situation.
'Fuckin' hell. What is up with me lately? Enough, I need to get rid of Granny Rags before I can sort myself out… it's nearly all over anyway.'
His thoughts quickly balance out, settling into that familiar cold, calculating bloodlust that fuels all of his successful hunts.
Corvo observes the scene up ahead of him, watching as the charcoaled form of the still-burning Granny Rags pulls out a short blade from a leather holster that was revealed as all her clothing peeled away into a pile of ash.
And she stabs herself into her own neck in a suicidal gesture. But suicide isn't granted to her; instead, her body crumbles and breaks away into another swarm of rats, these rats more angry, more mad, and infinitely more hungry.
They all change their tempo and charge Corvo with invigorated fury, all of them travelling to him from one side of the cavern like a tsunami.
He decisively breaks into movement, clearing the giant hordes in their entirety with a long jump that ends in a blink.
SOOOOM SAAAAAH
The whispers of the void enter his ears with the activation of his powers, space and time sending him metres away from his falling position and into the messy room of Granny Rags.
"I WILL SKIN YOU, I WILL FEAST ON YOUR FLESH AND CARVE INTO YOUR RUNES TO GIVE MY BIRDIES GIFTS!!!!!!"
A piercing scream resounds throughout the cavern, damaging both Slackjaw's and Corvo's eardrums, deafening the two men for an instant.
An instant that allows Granny Rags to sneak up behind Corvo, then she…
MUNCH
Takes a giant bite from his flesh.
"ARGHHH! Fucking mad slag!"
Her shark-like teeth puncture Corvo's flesh like blades and dig into his shoulder. He attempts to disengage, to forcefully get the woman's teeth out of his muscles, but the struggle only deepens the maw's bite and spurs it on with more ferocity. The bite punctures bone, an attack that shoots white-hot pain up his spine, finally giving him enough adrenaline to tear himself away from her violently.
TEAR
A large bite wound, the size of something only a wild animal could inflict, is left as he tears himself free, forgoing the attached flesh.
The wound pours with a deep, dark crimson blood, his arm going limp and useless as the muscle that gifts it with mobility is ripped away.
Luckily, if you could call getting one of your shoulders mutilated lucky, was in the fact it was his left shoulder, which holds his void-bitten hand, a limb useless in holding anything physically but himself. The only use of such a hand is to serve as a catalyst for his powers, more like a magic staff in actuality.
Though that still doesn't stop the agonising amount of pain from ripping through his body with a vengeance. Even with his extraordinary pain resistance, it doesn't stop him from feeling it; Corvo just gets better at dealing with the horrible feeling.
He jumps away with his supernatural agility, pouncing across the room with the grace of a cat, turning at the last minute to face the monstrosity that consumed his flesh. And a monster she really is. Her flesh, once so full of wrinkles that she could be compared to a ballsack, now was drawn taut across her flesh with a tightness that it looks like it would tear with a single movement.
And the reason for the saggy flesh being drawn with the tension of a bowstring would be the muscle mass, structure, and appearance that would make any bodybuilder weep with envy.
The monster, Granny Rags, now has a form resembling something that could only be compared to the Hulk.
But that is not all. Tendrils cover a good portion of her shoulder blades, appendages that only appear on a Leviathan. Her face now morphed into the skull of a bird with no eye holes. And finally, a large rat-like tail, one with claw-like spikes embedded throughout the limb, swishing back and forth ominously like a predator ready to pounce at their prey.
That sight could cause fear to manifest in any man and woman alike. So it's only natural that a pit forms in Corvo's stomach, a sinking feeling of dread permeating him like never before.
He doesn't get the chance to process those fears properly before a pale blur hits the wall beside him, completely clearing through the bricks like paper. That charge, though, it was meant for him. Only managing to dodge at the last second out of pure instinct is what saved his life.
This time, instead of waiting for an attack and playing defence, Corvo dashes after the monstrous form of the Granny.
Though he doesn't even make it halfway before a slimy tendril latches onto his throat, yanking him across the cage towards where she landed. And by the looks of it, completely unscathed, a fate Corvo will not share if he were to meet the ground as intimately as she did.
A flash of steel is all that could be seen as Corvo flicks his blade at the limb holding onto him, severing it in a single motion.
"RASAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!"
Granny roars in pain, the pitch soon becoming as twisted as her physical form, reaching all across the cavern, piercing into the ears of both Corvo and Slackjaw in a way that nearly causes Corvo to lose consciousness in his position mid-air.
But through a combination of both luck and skill, he twists his body to an upright position and blinks safely to the ground.
The two circle each other with ferocity, one growling with drool escaping their crow-like face, the other with a renewed cool, his footsteps light and silent enough that looking away for a moment would be enough to lose him.
Then, taking the first move, Corvo reaches into his pouch and picks a spiked grenade, ripping off the pin with already cracked teeth, and throws it at Granny Rags.
It sails through the air straight on target, but as if she had already seen it coming, she starts to dodge the attack even before it begins its journey to her.
'It's like she can see the future… no, that can't be it.'
His mark briefly glows its iridescent colour as it sparks a gust of strong wind into existence, a wind that serves as a strong force to launch the grenade with more strength.
'Yeah, I think her power is more simple than that.'
The grenade picks up speed dramatically and hits her before she can even react with her heightened senses.
STAB
'Prediction, maybe? Predicting something as long as you can react to it.'
It pierces her muscular shoulder as easily as a hot knife through butter. It sticks there, ticking down ominously all the while.
"""REEEEEEEE-!! MŸ ŁØVÈ!!!!! GET THIS OFF ME, NOOOWWWW!!"""
She screams bloody murder once again while violently trying to tear the explosive from her giant frame, but her muscles restrict her from reaching that high up.
Though for a moment, in that agonising moment where her scream dissolves into a different language, one that sounds so eldritch and unknown, it further damages his ears, the gentle but firm voice of Jessamine and the kind but strict tone of Callista overlap.
Even the images of the two overlay with the grotesque form of Granny Rags in a way that, for a single moment, stirs positive emotions in Corvo.
It takes a moment to snap out of it, to squash the fabricated emotions down mercilessly and to stop himself from moving forward to desperately help her.
Something that spikes his rage even more to have to do so.
And so, with a flick of his wrist, his pistol comes out menacingly.
His aim gets the monster's form in his sights.
He fires, the bullet gliding through the barrel with explosive might.
It lands….
BOOOOOOOM
….
….
…
..
.
{10 minutes later}
Standing in front of a furnace, Corvo and Slackjaw look down at a cameo in Slackjaw's grip. The picture of a gorgeous woman, maybe in her twenties at the time, and with a smile that could draw the breath from anyone's mouth in awe of her beauty.
"It's almost intriguing, isn't it?" Slackjaw's voice unearths the silence hanging between the two as they still stare down at the cameo, though their eyes also land on the giant marked hand in Corvo's own.
"What is?" Corvo responds to him, almost uninterested, his mind lost in the cloud of memory.
"How much a person can change. Not only in appearance, but personality!" Slackjaw shouts animatedly, a distant hollow chuckle at the back of his throat threatening to escape.
"Now I'm not one to be a judge in appearance to say that just because she is beautiful, and by the void she is, that she has a better personality than a weathered hag that the monster was not long ago. But I think this time my prejudice is justified, no?"
They once more fall into silence as they look at the fallen unmoving behemoth behind them.
"Yeah, you are probably right. She looks happy there. But enough of this, I'm busy, and I'm sure you would like to leave this place as well. Throw it in." Corvo commands Slackjaw, growing impatient at the stalling.
With a nod, Slackjaw throws the cameo into the roaring pits of fire and pulls down on a lever to activate it, spiking its heat to be felt even from across the room.
"Wanna know something funny?" Slackjaw laughs quietly to himself, self-mockingly. "When we were kids, we were all scared of Granny Rags. Thought she was a terrible witch! Then we grew up and figured she was just a sad, lonely old lady. Turns out we were right the first time…"
He looks to the ground, reminiscing about a time long passed and everything that happened in between.
"Yeah?" Corvo echoes out in response to his question, voice taking on a similarly mocking tone aimed solely at Slackjaw. "Didn't stop you and your men from extorting and stealing from her, did it?"
Slackjaw pauses, a silent guilt passing through his eyes briefly before he stops, hardens his expression, and turns to face Corvo.
"We all have things we regret doing to survive. I won't force my men to not steal or do things we consider bad just for a fleeting sense of morality, especially when they too have starving family at home. Perhaps you have forgotten that 'Lord Protector' in your fancy castle, maybe you shouldn't forget that you were once a rat scrambling to survive, just like the rest of us."
He turns and grabs a large pouch attached to his waist, flicking his wrist slightly to send it into Corvo's hand.
"My payment, as promised."
He gets a nod from Corvo as the man starts walking away with his unnervingly quiet footsteps. But as he unlocks the door leading to the next room, he stops and looks back at Slackjaw.
Feeling cold sweat start drenching his back, Slackjaw feels the urge to turn around and get as far away as he could from the reaper in front of him, the skull's mechanical eyes drilling into him.
"I'm judging you, but I don't blame you."
The sentence uttered by the assassin confuses Slackjaw, an emotion that is read by Corvo like an open book.
"I've done a lot of things, things that, like you said, I deeply regret. But what I regret is not the fact I caused them, it's the fact I was put in the position where I had to hurt a lot of people that had no position in the power game that has been playing in the shadows. What I regret is being so weak that I could not afford a chance to spare my enemies, not that I could control myself enough to even have the thought in the moment."
Slackjaw doesn't respond to Corvo's speech, just silently listens and observes the man as he gets a chance to understand him on a deeper level.
"Being weak and kind in a place like this, in a time like this, is the delusion of a fool or a masochist. So while I hypocritically judge you, I do not blame you for what you and your men do to survive."
Slackjaw nods in understanding, coming to his own conclusions about the ruthless butcher of Dunwall, and just perhaps he may be just as weak as the rest of them.
"But remember, Slackjaw."
Corvo turns, walking out of the room of the deceased Granny Rags and to the next.
"Not all power is physical, and you, you are a lot stronger than your victims."
BOOOOOM
A loud explosion tears through the cavern just as Corvo closes the door to the next room.
THUD
SPLAT
A monstrous head lands next to Slackjaw's feet, beady crow-like dead eyes meeting his own.
Bending down, he picks it up, briefly straining against such weight, and places it inside the furnace as well.
"Goodbye, Granny Rags."
He says while pulling down the lever for the second time today.
"I don't forgive you for trying to kill me, nor for tormenting us as children, but perhaps you were just a weakling as well. Maybe that's how you ended up like this from such a happy woman you once were."
Slackjaw doesn't stand to watch the burning head of Granny Rags like he did with her phylactery, but he walks away in a direction opposite Corvo without looking back. He too has objectives that need completing.
….
…
..
.
{Narrator POV- back to Corvo}
Looking at the familiar sign of a shrine dedicated to the Outsider, Corvo lets out a deep sigh at what is to come.
Though he doesn't stoop long in his self-pity and walks over, knowing that the bored god will come out and visit on his own.
'The sooner it's done, the less I will have to dread talking to the pupil-eyed bastard.'
The second Corvo lays his hand upon the runes, the world explodes into a colourless frame, shedding all that brings joy.
The shrine similarly explodes, only for its pieces to float in the air all around them.
Yes, them.
From a burst of black mist, the Outsider appears in the flesh. In the energy? As an avatar? Who knows, all that matters is that he answers Corvo's call and appears.
"You always find yourself in such interesting places, don't you, Corvo."
Unlike the god's usually floating form and indifferent attitude, the Outsider appears sitting on top of the shrine made in his name, a slight incline of his lips and clear interest in his eyes betraying the stoic and all-powerful image he always puts on.
Perhaps shedding such a shell when in contact with a being that breaks the constant rules that have made the universe for all of time.
"At the eye of the storm raging between Granny Rags and this man who has lived his whole life with a cleaver in one hand and a bottle in the other. I can't say such a show hasn't been entertaining, otherwise I would be lying. Gods don't lie, do they, Corvo."
His smirk widens to the point it almost reaches into a grin, his eyes crinkling at the edges in a way they were unused to.
"Now you're back from crawling out of those flooded ruins, diving further into the sewers like a soggy rat and winding your way back to the pub where you last saw Emily? Where is she now? How does it feel, knowing your allies betrayed you? Strange how there's always a little more innocence left to lose."
He fiddles absentmindedly with the two runes in the palms of his hands, throwing the two priceless treasures up and down without care like they are nothing.
And in the grand scheme of things… they aren't. At least not to the wrong people.
"And Daud—the man who killed the Empress. You had him in the palm of your hand, and you not only slaughtered him, but you erased everything he built. You destroyed every brick of his kingdom without an ounce of mercy. Did you do it for the love of the Empress? Or perhaps a warped desire to rise above other men.
Then… you did the impossible, and stole my gift to him, ripped it out of his corpse with the power you made from my gift to you. Is that what you are going to do to dear old Vera here as well?"
His lips crack up continuously, to the point it reaches into a smile. A twisted smile that brings back the same fear he experienced with Granny, this time though, tenfold.
But it disappears as suddenly as it appears, taking Corvo's nervousness with it.
"You…. You fascinate me. I wonder how far you will reach."
With final parting words, the Outsider disappears, bringing all the colour back into the world with the absence of chaos given form.
….
…
..
.
{Present}
Corvo uncorks three mana potions with his teeth and chugs the suspiciously blue liquid down roughly, the aftertaste bringing a spicy feeling like he just drank refined oil, a banging headache affirming that as well.
The vicious liquid brings with it more than enough mana to re-manifest his hand, bringing his powers back with it.
"Hooooo…haaaaaaa."
He sucks in a desperate breath of sweet air, relief tugging at his bones as the constant thrum of mana that passively enhances his body fills him again.
"Right then, no rest for the wicked."
He brings a hand to his nose and wipes away the blood pouring down it without end, a side effect of potion overuse, something he was intimately familiar with from his time in Coldridge.
Seeing that it won't stop, Corvo trusts in his vitality to keep him from bleeding out.
He then dons the mask, the metal clicking into place onto his skin, bringing another bout of comfort towards him.
"Let's go."
—-
Word count: 3,679