Universe's End

Chapter 272: Breakdown

Stunned silence as the world itself seemed to hold its breath.

Rory, his cognition still in a heightened state, digested what he’d done for a moment longer.

He’d just killed the Woodsman. There had been no questioning the depth of the bloodlust and hate he’d felt from the Woodsman, the same hatred he felt toward his Bane. There would be no talking him down. Roxy would be in his crosshairs for the rest of time. Perhaps if he had more time, he could have come up with the perfect plan, but the world wasn’t going to give him that time; he’d only bought a few extra moments to think after all.

No, it was either him or his daughter. Even if Rory told himself he would have preferred a ‘smarter’ way of handling the messy situation, as a father, knowing someone was out there who felt such baneful desire to kill his daughter, Rory knew deep in his heart, he was glad. If it meant the entire world turned against him?

So be it.

Oh.

That was all Zoey really had in mind as she saw the Woodsman fall dead. She’d felt the surge of baneful hate; she knew it had been directed toward Roxy.

And now he was dead.

Well… So be it.

She trusted Rory: her best friend and longtime ally.

If he’d decided he would make an enemy of the rest of the world?

Well then, she’d be there right next to him.

Sorry Alice. Maybe one day we can patch things up.

But it sure looked like today wasn’t going to be that day.

Allison felt the surge of hate from Garfunk. She, like any other sane person, was also disgusted by the Sensen, but Garfunk had more reason than most. The hurt he felt, every man and woman he’d lost, never with a second chance at life in this universe, even as slim as it may have been. To the Osferian, it felt like losing a part of his soul, something he’d explained in his usual gruff manner only once before.

Yet, before any of them could do much more than react to the sight of the Sensen woman, Garfunk was surging out of his seat.

And then he was dead.

Garfunk. Dead.

It didn’t make sense to Allison.

Dead. Dead?

That couldn’t be.

Garfunk.

Dead.

Dead?

Garfunk.

Her mind clicked the pieces together, finally forced to accept it.

Garfunk was dead.

Her best friend. Her only friend… Ever. Once she’d had her older sister to shield her, to comfort her, to be there for her. And then she disappeared. For the rest of her life, until the end of existence, she had been so terribly alone. Life on Aelia had changed that; she’d found herself responsible for others, and yet, she’d never had that connection: an equal, a peer.

A friend.

In a way, Garfunk had become to her like Zoe had been to her as a child, a trusted sibling to confide in. He was gruff and a bit of a jarhead, but the Osferian was like the brother she’d never had—her only family.

And now he was dead.

Because of him.

Her mind had already been a mess because of her sister’s reappearance, but now it was made worse.

The Architect.

Garfunk.

Dead.

“Kill him.”

The words were out of her mouth before she’d ever really realized she’d said them.

But.

But they felt right.

Blood for blood.

In an instant, the building they’d been in exploded as the force of the five remaining Founders unleashed their aura to the max, violence unavoidable.

“Stay out!” Allison heard the Architect shout.

Wise. She wasn’t so far gone as to take her wrath out on his people, but if they involved themselves where they shouldn’t?

“Take him!” Allison shouted in response. They would capture the Architect and kill him, and this farce would be done with. Ready to pounce, she was cut off when a much shorter woman suddenly blocked her path.

“No,” Zoe, her sister, said with a voice like steel. “Don’t be rash.”

Allison stared at her sister.

No.

The Spear stared at the Vanguard, rage seething within her.

Allison loved her sister. There was no doubt in her mind. And one day, perhaps they would have a chance to patch things up.

But etching Garfunk’s face into her mind, The Spear’s heart began to pound with the drums of war.

Today wouldn’t be the day for reconciliation. Today, there was only to be justice. The Vanguard hadn’t been the one to execute her best friend, and so while The Spear wouldn’t hold back, she also wouldn’t hold her guilty.

“He killed my best friend.”

With that, an unstoppable force met an unmovable object as the two collided.

Actions had consequences.

Rory knew that. He’d chosen his daughter. And he would make the same choice a million times out of a million if need be.

But the fallout of those actions came a moment later, as the embassy, which had been explicitly built to withstand the errant energies of several gathered Founders, was blown apart; the non-Founders present were barely shielded by the likes of Apostolos and Irene’s own aura, just enough to blunt the worst of it.

“Stay out!” Rory shouted, as a notification was instantly sent across all Ehkorrus, to remain uninvolved in the battle that was about to go down. The other Founders were reasonable enough not to involve any innocents. But if anyone made the mistake of attempting to join in, Rory had no doubt they would only end up, at best, as casualties and, at worst, as liabilities.

“Take him!” The Spear shouted, about to launch herself forward after Rory, only to be cut off as a much shorter woman blocked her path.

“No,” Zoey said, her voice steel. “Don’t be rash.”

The Spear stared down at her sister, no, stared down at the Vanguard, rage seething within her.

“He killed my best friend.”

It was all that needed to be said as the two began to clash, an immovable object against an unstoppable force.

But Rory didn’t have time to watch, as the air froze and silence swallowed all of existence.

“Form One: Frozen Palm of the Solemn Peak.”

Flickering out of the way, Rory’s instincts yelled at him to act, and just in time, as several projected domes intercepted two downward sweeping daggers as the Rogue appeared from the tiniest speck of darkness cast by a single wayward shadow.

“You’re going to die for that, you fucking prick!” The Rogue snarled; despite his earlier demeanor, it was clear the man was visibly outraged at the death of the Woodsman.

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There was good news, bad news, and worse news.

The good news was that it was now a two-versus-three instead of a two-versus-four.

The bad news was that he was the one facing down a two-versus-one against the Monk and the Rogue.

The worse news was that, given he’d technically been the one to break the peace compact, Rory could feel himself blocked from drawing on the leverage of fighting within Ehkorrus; Eon wasn’t about to let him pull a stunt like backstabbing others after ‘lying’ to them about their safety and go unpunished.

Actions have consequences. I was the one to strike first, even if it was obvious that he would have had I not.

Making peace with the reality of the situation, there was only one thing for Rory to do.

Win.

The only chance of everyone, well, mostly everyone, making it out of this alive was to win; the two after him clearly had no intention of keeping him alive, or at least, Rory didn’t want to gamble on that.

Just beat two fellow Founders at once.

No biggie.

Having made his decision, Rory unfurled his capped attributes as much as he realistically could, his aura surging as his ‘lesser’ attributes suddenly caught up with his two opponents before they had the chance to overwhelm him from a sheer attribute discrepancy standpoint.

As he did so, magic circles began to bloom by the dozens, a torrential downpour of daggers showering upon the Monk and the Rogue.

The Monk swept his leg outward, his aura literally freezing everything around him, until the cold reached such a point that the projections instantly exploded upon contact with the frozen aura.

The Rogue, meanwhile, began to vanish and reappear as easily as Rory did, using the many shadows cast by the projections against him, diving between them like a fish through water.

Reaching out, Rory suddenly held a whip-like chain, lashing out through the shadows as the Rogue was forced out, leaping toward him as he snarled.

“Night Fall!”

Light vanished, and suddenly, Rory felt as if he were cut off from the world in an endless black pool of breathable ink that was somehow liquid and gas all at once.

A proto domain? No, but it’s not far off.

The difference between it and a real domain was that this proto domain was far from stable, a dagger to be used and discarded.

Whatever the finer details of the skill were, they didn’t change the fact that, from the darkness, the Rogue began to appear, slashing at Rory with daggers that were only blocked by his armor, a biting black liquid hissing on contact. Whenever Rory attempted to lash out with the chain-whip, the Rogue vanished in a puff of inky black smoke.

Why am I even bothering?

Throwing his hands out, Rory flared his aura as he fought the proto domain. Even though a proto domain was impressive at this point –such a skill would have allowed the Rogue to easily counter the Bird, for example– if it were a contest of domain knowledge, Rory was never going to lose against a proto domain that was only achievable through activating a skill.

“Break,” Rory commanded as he flexed his own intent, threading the intent of his own domain through the structure of the fragile proto domain. The single nudge was enough to shatter the proto domain skill, and the world suddenly reappeared around them as usual.

Just in time for a frozen fist to hurtle straight toward his face.

Rory attempted to defend himself, to muster his magic, but within the area of effect of the Monk’s aura of frozen stillness, it was like trying to pour chilled syrup. The fist connected, and Rory was launched away, his helmet thankfully taking the brunt of the damage.

Before he had a chance to recover, the Rogue was upon him again, the daggers again looking to strike through the weak points of his armor like the Rogue instinctively knew where to target.

Without physically moving and relying on intent alone, several gems appeared from his inventory, only to instantly detonate, improvised explosives that knocked the Rogue off course as Rory flickered into the sky, staff in hand.

Can’t go wide scale.

Storm clouds gathering, Rory swung his staff downward, a single bolt of lightning composed of dozens of lesser bolts condensed into one.

"Empyrion Fulmination!’

It was a good attempt; lightning magic was a solid enough option for dealing with what seemed to be some form of conceptually adjacent shadow magic from the Primordial Rogue.

But it never even got close as the Monk leaped to his defense, his energy circulating as he struck a fist upward, splitting the bolt of lightning.

Tsk.

A fully realized domain would have been his best bet, but having been cut off from taking advantage of Ehkorrus to its fullest from Eon, any parameters that involved Ehkorrus were essentially off limits, and Rory couldn’t afford to use a parameter like sealing his projection magic, not in a two-versus-one against fellow Founders.

Used to being the sole figure in the sky, Rory was caught off guard as the Rogue suddenly appeared behind him once more, daggers again chasing after him. Barely reacting in time, Rory was able to get his arms in the way as a shield appeared.

Launched downward like a falling star, Rory was aware of the buildings he would crash into if he didn’t stop himself. Altering the trajectory of his fall with a simple flicker movement, Rory was again shocked as the Rogue again appeared behind him, able to keep up with Rory’s flicker teleportation.

So, it’s not just shadows he can use as a medium to teleport.

Popping in and out of existence, the two raced around the city, Rory appearing only for the Rogue to appear directly in striking range right behind him. The entire time, the Monk was chasing them through the city on foot; his aura of frozen stillness seemed to negate air resistance entirely, in the same way Rory could use the baked-in effect of Seams Unseen to cut through it. It wasn’t just the ground; the Monk treated the vertical sides of buildings as trackways, keeping close enough that he would launch palm strikes of frozen air toward him.

Annoying.

With his awareness of the city, Rory could distinctly sense Zoey and the Spear going at it. Tsarina and others had appeared on site, but, obeying his command, they did nothing other than contain the fight and maintain a boundary of sorts. Tsarina, Apostolos, and even Astra appeared, all doing their best to maintain a conjured barrier. Still, even the shockwaves of the clashes between Zoey and The Spear were at a level that boggled the mind.

Roxy was thankfully gone; Tsarina had likely squirreled her away somewhere safe.

Only one figure was unaccounted for, the hidden contingency plan.

Winning a fair fight in a two-Founders-versus-one was unlikely.

But.

But Rory wasn’t here trying to prove who was the strongest Founder in a fair fight. He was trying to avoid the downward death spiral that even an idiot could recognize they were on the verge of forming.

Alright, Eia, let’s do this.

The only one of the heavy hitters to have not shown herself, she was the secret card ready to be sprung; it was part of why she hadn’t been on the wall with them originally.

And now it was about time to spring that card.

Flickering away, Rory barely dodged the daggers that had been aimed at a weak point behind the knees of his armor, irritating Rory.

Seriously, he genuinely knows every weak point.

Another blast of frozen air was launched toward it before it suddenly shifted into a frozen blade of air.

“Form Two: Cutting Chill of the Frozen Winds.”

The annoying issue is how well these two work together.

The Rogue was all about high mobility and extremely lethal precision attacks, plus an affinity for magic that was reminiscent of shadow magic, though deeper somehow, something about it that made Rory believe even Apostolos would be at risk of dying without a chance to recover.

The Monk, meanwhile, seemed to be extremely skilled at hand-to-hand, and had a particularly nasty aura that slowed and froze whatever entered the range of it.

Putting the two together, all it would take was a single slip-up on Rory’s part for the Monk to catch him in the slowing aura, allowing the Rogue to put him down with a lethal precision strike.

In theory, removing the Monk from the playing field was the most obvious answer. The issue was that the Monk had the feel of an all-rounder; Rory doubted he could do so easily, not without that frozen aura leaving him vulnerable.

The Rogue, therefore, had to be the starting point, but against such a slippery foe, unless Rory was able to knock him out, there would be no keeping him down for long. It was the same way that Enchain hadn’t been a real option against the Bird without first locking it down within a fully realized domain, and even then, he’d intended to kill the Bird, so he hadn’t needed to consider anything past locking down the Bird for a few moments.

Teleporting away, Rory suddenly changed course, appearing in front of the Monk in what seemed entirely contradictory to his prior game of keep away. Feigning as if he were going for a strike against the Monk, it was the Monk who realized a game was afoot, his eyes widening a fraction.

But it was too late. The Rogue appeared behind Rory, looking to take advantage of a pincer movement.

Except Rory was the one who had prepared for it, flickering a second time directly behind the Rogue, turning the tables as he launched a kick into his back. The moment the Rogue crossed into the Monk’s freezing aura, Rory snapped a finger outward.

“Enchain!”

As slippery as the Rogue was, the wombo-combo of being caught in the freezing aura and then hit with an Enchain was enough to completely halt the Rogue for a few moments, long enough for Rory to yank the man back toward himself with a simple pneuma chain, even as the Monk lunged forward in an effort to rescue his ally.

As fast as he was, it wasn’t as fast as Rory, who instantly flickered away with the temporarily captured Rogue, reappearing in the Null Station as Eia waited impatiently, having known Rory long enough to guess his plan.

“Hand him over.”

Passing the Rogue over, Eia sank her fangs into his arm, injecting paralyzing venom.

“I will bring him to Cruor-Shu to hold onto, and I shall stay guard in case he should still somehow free himself, to avoid any potential harm being brought upon the Archon.”

“Thanks,” Rory said. Enchain could keep the Rogue from teleporting, but it would wear off quickly should he resist, not to mention that he could only target one ‘target’ at a time; the Bird had been an exception, as all the clone bodies were still the same Bird.

If they wanted to keep the Rogue out of the equation, there would need to be another layer of binding. Cruor-Shu, being a bloodwood Archon, could do just that, wrapping the man up in roots that would siphon his energy, at least enough that when combined with Eia keeping him dosed upon on paralytic venom, would prevent the Rogue from running amok.

Hopefully, if not, it’s up to Eia to at least stall out in a one-on-one fight.

The problem was, of course, getting the Rogue there in the first place, but that was where the wombo-combo had come into play, boosting the sealing effect of Enchain for long enough that it should hold the slippery Founder.

Watching as Eia brought the Rogue through the Null Window, Rory could only hope for the best as he flickered away, appearing in front of the Monk who’d almost made it all the way to the Null Station in mere moments.

“Where did you take him?” The Monk asked, no longer able to sense the Rogue’s aura.

“Who knows?” Rory said before taking a stance that he’d lifted from Kai Rong and then modified it to his own liking.

Without the threat of the lethal precision daggers driving through him as he fought the Monk, Rory felt far better about facing him head-on.

“You are lucky I have restraint, unlike yourself. I could have devastated this place with ease.”

“I know,” Rory said, letting the aura in his voice drop for a moment, speaking instead through pure sincerity. “And I appreciate that.”

Moment over, Rory shook his head.

“But I wasn’t going to let my daughter die.”

The First Monk frowned, as if considering something before sighing.

“I don’t think you’re an evil man harboring evil intent.”

“Then-”

“But I myself was his ally, and I remain The Spear’s. I do not believe you to be a man of grave sin, but ultimately, I am but a man, meaning I am also fallible. So, if you want to live to see tomorrow and show us you are not an evildoer, freeze thy resolve, and let us speak with our fists.”

The First Monk shifted his feet, one palm facing toward Rory like a claw, the other close to his chest as his aura surged with vicious frost.

“Prove yourself.”