Forged Legacy

Chapter 140 - Tortured Souls

Instead of one of the teleportation rooms hidden inside the church teacher’s lounges, the view on the other side of the massive mirror showed a small underground bunker. Harvey felt queasy as his body traveled hundreds of miles in an instant, but the horde of bodies surrounding them pushed their group up the ramp and out into the daylight. Thunderous footsteps rattled the Earth as angels, giants, lions, and rams surged towards gates in the silver wall that he’d taken his family to the day before. The glimmering golden barrier separating Heaven from their lost territory was gone.

“Six days of this!” Cash shouted. Despite his white wings tucked behind his back, none of the angels flew overhead. Harvey didn’t know if they couldn’t or didn’t want to expose themselves to demon sniper fire.

Harvey could feel the tension rising as they left the manicured streets and spilled onto the charred remains of Saturday's dragon attack. Someone had clearly done their best cleaning up the gore and melted flesh, but he doubted they would ever get all of it. Seeing the massive war eagles flying overhead and giants forming a wall of flesh in front was electrifying, reminding Harvey of watching fighter jets fly-by during Fourth of July celebrations back home.

“I’m ok with that!” Harvey replied.

Their army assembled with practiced ease, and the Thorne’s followed Cash to an empty spot towards the rear.

“Summon the bunker here,” Cash instructed. Harvey didn’t object, channeling essence through his weave until the redoubt sprang up around them.

“What about all the rituals you did last time?” Tyler asked. “The smoke thing?”

“We had time to prepare beforehand since there was no fighting yesterday. Our creatures were blessed and moved to the front lines before I came to get you this morning, which means I have time to bless you instead,” Cash explained, pulling out his silver censer and a vial of golden liquid. One by one, tattoos shone through the angel's skin, each accompanied by new vials that all released utterly intoxicating aromas.

Golden oil hissed as it hit the censer, erupting into smoke that sank into Harvey’s flesh. Any semblance of sickness had disappeared since his Vitality surpassed human levels, but now it felt his body had been rid of all impurities. Regal purple smoke dug into his weave, alleviating the gentle strain he already felt from channeling so much essence into Legacy’s Redoubt. Pristine white found something deeper. Something he couldn’t see, but knew without a shadow of doubt was there.

“Your soul,” Cash explained when he saw their questioning looks. “Your Vitality, Endurance, and Willpower should all be increased for the next couple hours.”

“How much?” Harvey asked, opening up his status screen.

“Depends on the person. A fragile weave like Tyler’s can’t take in as much as yours.”

“Hey! Who you calling fragile?” Tyler interjected. “I can’t really fight in here. There’s no room to swing my mace.”

“For now, our only goal is to help out as best we can, which probably means guns. Whatever Hell sends at us, that mace isn’t going to be enough,” Harvey said.

“Then what’s the point of our Classes?” Tyler sulked.

“Once we see what we’re up against, the four of us can decide if we want to go hunting down stragglers. You can get some swings in then,” Cash said.

Harvey turned toward the shooting bays to try and see if he could spot the demon army, but couldn’t see far through the smoke.

[It must look like you guys were doing some holy hot-boxing,] Julius laughed.

Furiously waving his hand, the lingering wisps dispersed. It was hard to tell through a sea of shield-bearing giants and magnificent beasts, but black and red bodies were starting to filter through the broken neighborhoods in the distance. Anxiously scanning the sky, Harvey didn’t see any signs of another dragon, but he also didn’t hear the onerous barks of any hellhounds or hissing of Nahashim.

Behind, he heard the sounds of magazines clicking into place and rounds being chambered. Rupture appeared from the ring on his right hand, and Harvey carefully pushed out the cylinder before loading round by round. With a flick of his wrist, it snapped back into place, and he made a quick check to ensure the chamber lined up perfectly with the barrel.

“Drama queen,” Tyler whispered.

“Tyler!” Steve chastised.

For 10 minutes, they watched the demonic army take shape. From a distance, it almost looked like Hell had sent a blob of obsidian slime to fight them. Around half of the creatures were indiscernible shapes, while the others were a mix of black-haired goats covered in bloody red sigils and large bats the size of the eagles currently perched atop the Nephilim giant’s shoulders.

“Some sort of smoke elemental? Or maybe one made of infernal essence?” Harvey asked.

Before Cash could answer, the bang of a sniper rifle high on the wall behind them rang out. A dozen more followed, but Harvey didn’t see a single enemy fall.

“Shit,” Cash swore. “Those aren’t elementals. They’re tortured souls.”

Responding to the gunshots, an ocean of banshee wails filled the air as the tide of obsidian slime washed towards them. Eagles screeched in alarm, taking to the sky where they crashed into the bats talon first. Flurries of beaks and wings created the day’s first casualties, and orbs of black fire rising above the goat’s heads soon created the second.

“Shit? Why shit? What does that mean?” Tyler stammered. As they drew closer, Harvey could see that what he thought was a blob was actually a host of black, ragged robes hovering just off the ground. As they soared towards them, the wind began to blow a few of the billowing hoods back, revealing human and angel faces made of red energy. They were half translucent, but Harvey could still see the anguish and madness in their eyes as ceaseless screams left their mouths.

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“It means bullets won’t work! Shoot the goats first, then get your silver out!” Cash urged, already shooting his golden Desert Eagle at the closest beast.

Harvey lurched at the wraith's grim visage, suddenly feeling naked now that he knew his gun wouldn’t work. Nothing he had would work. Cash’s body naturally contained the resonance to fight back against these unholy creatures, and his family was covered head to toe. Sure, he hadn’t finished the inscriptions on their armor to turn that resonance into a weapon, but these creatures couldn’t be that strong if there were so many of them charging all at once. Harvey had nothing. Not even an old dagger like the dozen he could’ve picked up from the crates where Tyler found his mace and his dad found his shield.

“What do I do?” Harvey panicked.

“Your fire skills might work? Not well, but better than nothing!” Cash shouted in between shots.

The tortured souls crashed into the Nephilim’s shields, clambering over the silver wall as bloody mist began leaking from the hoods. Even more weaved around the oval shields and between their trunk-like legs to start ineffectually punching and kicking the lions. All the while, explosions of black flame landed in their midst like mortar fire, infernal resonance suffocating any creatures too close to the blast. Claws and fangs ripped the tortured souls to shreds, scarlet ectoplasm and black ribbons spraying out behind the divine beasts.

To Harvey, it looked like the tortured souls were willingly charging headfirst into a wood chipper, but it wasn’t long before their war machine started to sputter. Through the gore, Harvey saw lions and rams convulsing on the floor, blood leaking from every hole on their head. It mixed with the scarlet ectoplasm, slowly eating away at their fallen bodies like the bottles of Corpse Dust in his spatial ring. With every death, the shrieking souls drew closer, the sound putting noticeable pressure on Harvey’s soul.

“AHHHH! AHHHH!” Tyler screamed, his gun clattering to the ground as he covered his ears. Steve did the same, falling to one knee as he struggled to cup his hands over his ears despite the helmet in the way.

“Dad? Tyler!” Harvey panicked. “Cash, what do I do!”

“Life Imprint!” Cash yelled, just as the first tortured soul floated right through the bunker wall. Its wails echoed off the inside of the bunker, growing even louder as Tyler’s eyes grew bloodshot. The golden gun in his hand disappeared, replaced by a silver dagger that stabbed straight through the ghost’s head. With a flash of holy light, it exploded, raining caustic goop all over them.

Harvey flooded his family with his aura, infusing it with the Guardian of the Gilded Return. Life was different from divinity, but his superior Willpower let him suppress the soul attack. Their bodies heaved as they strained to catch their breath, and Cash rushed to heal their internal wounds as best he could with his skill.

“Stand up!” Cash shouted, pulling Steve to his feet as Harvey helped his brother. Outside, the wails never ended, but Harvey managed to protect them from the worst of it. Another tortured soul appeared through the wall beside them, trying to wrap its arms around their father’s neck. Tyler was faster, swinging his heavy mace into the wraith’s gut. Silver spikes poked three holes in the robe before sending the ghost flying out of the redoubt and into the air.

BANG!

Harvey shot the robe, but only managed to create a quarter-sized hole in the fabric while the being inside was wholly unaffected. Growling, he conjured a Fireball and hurled it just as the creature neared the ground. Sounds of pain joined the terror as the robe burned away, revealing the rest of the spirit’s body just as pieces began to burn away.

Before he could celebrate, the world turned black. Legacy’s redoubt shuddered as a ball of infernal flames crashed into the roof, sending hellish flames cascading in through the windows. Holy radiance rebuffed the flames assaulting the others, but their screams proved they weren’t completely saved from the heat. Harvey got the worst of it, feeling his skin bubble and burn as it found the holes in his armor. His weave shuddered as Soul Forge exposed his soul to the torture, but he endured.

Black fire dissipated just as fast as it appeared, revealing two more tortured souls that had made their way into the bunker. Both collapsed onto his fallen family members, pinning them to the ground and shrieking into their helmets.

“NO!” Harvey screamed, grabbing the silver sword his father had dropped and using Flamestrike to flood the monstrosities with an equal mix of divinity and forgefire all while maintaining a tight seal of aura around Tyler and Steve’s heads. The drain on his mental energy reached staggering levels as he fought off their assault, only abating when their forms disintegrated.

Harvey knew Cash’s quick ministrations wouldn’t be enough considering he had his own wounds to worry about, so he flooded the redoubt with his Guardian of the Gilded Return before conjuring two empty orbs with Inkbound Ordnance, filling them with healing ink, and detonating them. Healing mist exploded into the bunker, restoring burned flesh.

“We can’t heal their minds,” Cash croaked, grabbing his dagger and scrambling to his feet. “Not yet.”

“What!” Harvey panicked, using his own body to shield the shuddering forms of his father and brother. Both were still breathing, barely, but neither seemed responsive.

“Give them time. We need to protect them!” Cash urged.

Outside, Harvey was stunned to see a gaggle of tortured souls banging on the metal walls. It seemed that infusing his Imprint kept them from moving through the walls, even slightly muting their soul-rending shrieks. Cash took the opportunity to start thrusting his dagger out the window, embedding it to the hilt inside their gaping mouths. Taking advantage of the reprieve, Harvey tucked his family into a corner where they’d be mostly protected from any fireballs before slashing his father’s sword out the window. It reaped through them like a scythe through wheat, staining the charred lawn under their feet red.

The dull ache in his mind turned to stabbing pain, but his aura never left the redoubt or the unmoving bodies at his feet. The constant drain of mental energy made his brain feel like an orange being squeezed for every last drop. If it ran out, his legacy would fail, and his family would die.

Keep fighting, he urged as Julius forced his mind past its limits.

Outside, the eagles had overpowered the bats before swooping down to disembowel the goats who hadn’t already fallen to Heaven’s snipers. The satanic beasts were like magical mortars, unable to protect themselves once sharp talons embedded in their throats. The nephilim giants, lions, and rams had all fallen, their souls broken despite their bodies easily ripping the tortured souls to shreds. Only 10% of the tide remained, but they fell upon the angels like locusts, managing to overwhelm a few before they could destroy them all.

Harvey felt the world closing in around him, his vision going dark as he swung his sword back and forth. He’d killed dozens of wraiths, his arms coated in their caustic ectoplasm, while the silver sword remained pristine thanks to its holy resonance burning away the evil inside their bodies. Just as the numbers assaulting his redoubt finally began to thin, he collapsed. His eyes were already dark by the time his head bounced off the bunker floor, and his legacy faded. One final wraith burst through the wall, falling on his limp body and screaming right into his ears.

Tired and drained, Cash stumbled toward him, collapsing onto the tortured soul and pushing his dagger into its side. When its body exploded, the angel landed on top of Harvey in a heap. There he stayed, his white wings unfurling to cover all three of their unmoving bodies while he sobbed.