The Void 4 - Sentinel (Patreon)

It's been a long time coming.

The evening is quiet and the sky is clear. Just like last time, the winds are heavy with promise. Not mine. Not yet. I lay on my back in the sand, watching the sunset. Waiting for something to change.

I'd rather have been up there, but the radar would have spotted me and so I drove. My bike is laying down, like I am. I'm amazed that it's still working. John did good work, and I'd rather trust this old thing in the desert than anything new. Or maybe I just feel that something of John's should be here for the final assault.

Final? Hopefully.

How many times have we thought that? A decisive strike, a broken cult, only for it to be rebuilt because the Void was still out there. Gone. How do you catch someone who can step through walls and shadows alike? How do you make sure they stick around to see the show?

Bring the right bait, as John would say. 

That's how you make people walk into your trap. Was that what got him killed? I wish I knew. I wish I knew what kind of information would be worth enough to take that kind of risk for. I wish he would have told me. I wish he would have asked me to keep an eye on things. I wish he wouldn't have gone alone.

I wish he wouldn't have died.

"Hope you're watching from up there," I whisper to the darkening sky. "Hope you will forgive me." He probably would. Too soft. Always too soft. I keep remembering those parts, but as kind as John could be, I can't forget that Mount Hood was always ready to do what needed to be done. Pragmatic. Like I am. Like all of us who lived through the Big One. Can't afford to have illusions of a fair world. It isn't.

At least Charge is aware of that as well.

Does Ortega know that they are the bait? Most likely, always too sharp behind that charming smile. Clever in the way they pretend to be anything but. But they don't know the whole truth. They weren't the one who saw the room. The posters of their face. The plans.

I hope Hood will forgive me for that as well. For destroying them. I couldn't risk anybody deciding that Charge was too valuable not to risk. Ortega wouldn't like that, of course. They like the danger. But orders are orders and there are limits to the kind of disobedience you can get up to as a Marshal. This could just as easily be in the San Diego jurisdiction. And then I wouldn't get to be here.

And I want to.

"Sentinel?" The communicator crackles to life. Steel.

"Any word?" I sit up and scan the horizon, but everything looks calm. The sun has set now, the crimson is darkening to purple.

"Not yet. They are behind schedule."

"Don't fret. Not by much. You can't stick to a timeline when it involves that much walking. You know Anathema isn't the fastest." But they agreed. I still can't believe that. Maybe they want closure as much as I do. 

"What should we do if they don't call in? I can't do a point-to-point in the direction of the compound. That might be picked up."

"They will." I will the confidence to shine through. "You're not used to the supporting role, are you?"

"No," he admits. "I prefer to go in with the first wave."

"In an attack. But this infiltration." Sometimes Steel is still very much the soldier. What would he say if he knew I had read his file? All of it? "We follow the plan."

"Fine. Contact me when you hear anything. Over and out."

The communicator goes quiet, and I shake some dust from my braids. I can't say I like this plan either, but it is the only one I could see working. Even if it meant putting Charge in harm's way.

Not that they'd mind that. Would probably laugh and volunteer. Would say it was worth it if we succeed.

And if we don't?

I banish that thought, and ask Hood for forgiveness one more time. Above me, the sky is dark like condemnation. The stars blink to life, one by one as the last hint of crimson fades. 

The communicator crackles once more, filled with static. "Charge to Sentinel. The power is down. We are moving in. Give us ten minutes, then clear what's left outside."

"Roger that." I stand up, my mouth suddenly dry. This is it. "I'll coordinate with Steel as planned. Over and out."

I pull down my goggles and put on my mask once I've made sure the earplugs are in. The landscape is a nauseating pale green, enhanced starlight that reminds me of other worlds. Worse worlds. 

Am I doing the right thing? Have I made a mistake?

"Steel," I say, opening a channel. "Charge is on the move. I'll drop in ten minutes to clear up the outside. Make sure you stay outside the perimeter until then."

"Roger. I'll make sure nobody goes in or out for now."

"Do that. I'd rather not have any surprise reinforcements. Over and out." Too many things that could be unaccounted for. Just like the old days. 

I take a deep breath, feeling the air in my lungs and the air surrounding me. I stretch my senses far and wide and feel the winds pick up. There is no room for doubts now. Only surety. I crouch down, and then I jump. As high as I can.

The wind takes me to the skies.

Sometimes I wish I had words for this. How it feels soaring high over the landscape, the wingsuit carrying me like an errant kite. I have a body, sure, but I am the wind. My senses stretch to the horizon, and every breath is an eddy in the fabric of the world. Down below, lightning flashes in the dark clouds, obscuring my nightvision. Looks like Ashfall's and Charge's little plan is working. Clever. 

Not for the first time I wonder if Void is right. Are we even human anymore?

I'm not sure I feel it. Not up here. Among the winds, my body is mainly leverage. The goggles protect my eyes, and the earplugs helps with the noise. It's cold, but my wingsuit is insulated, a dry suit for an explorer in the higher realms. Soaring instead of diving. 

I tighten my grasp of the winds, twisting them to my will. I can feel the temperature difference, the weather was one reason we picked this day for the assault. Wet and warm, more moisture than is normal for these parts. And I can bring the cold.

Breathing in the winds, I feel the rollercoaster thrill of dropping pressure. Cold from above. Warm and moist from below. Twist and turn, and once the rotation starts, it's easy to keep it going. You don't work against the wind, you twist with it.

Ten minutes? There is no more lightning, Charge and Ashfall must have gone underground, just like we planned. There are flashlights and revving engines, the rest of the compound stirring to life. I keep hold of the rotation as I drop, the clouds condensing into darkness as the air chills. Above me in the dark, a supercell starts to form, a miniature weather system held in place by human will and anger.

Human?

I fall, and the wind twists with me. How many have the New Flesh killed by now? How many the Green Sky? How many lives on our conscience when we could have stopped it years ago? How many will I kill today? How many do I want to?

There are not supposed to be civilians around. Not right now. But if there was, would it really matter? They would be doomed to a painful death as their apotheosis failed, or be turned into a monster perpetuating the cycle. It's better it ends now. It's better I do it. I know the stakes. Steel would not argue, he's seen war. Everybody else is either not present, or below ground.

I'm as bad as Thunderhead.

A gunshot rings out, hitting the wings, spinning me around. So they've spotted me already. Of course they would be ready, they must have known I would be coming. If not today, then tomorrow. I see a flier rise to meet me, no wings, which enables them to maneuver in the storm. I laugh and curl up, wrapping the winds tighter around me. Breathing life. Breathing death.

Above me, the clouds twist faster, reaching down for the ground. I give it my all, pulls down cold, drags in warm. Turn and twist and people scream as the twister curls into reality. 

"No!" A flier hits me with a tackle, but the finger on the ground is two now, dancing around each other, growing as they suck dust and debris from the dirt. Dead man walking, one step, a twist and a curve and it's on the compound.

I will it to stop.

A hand is hitting my face, goggles sliding crooked and I open my eyes to eyes as green as witchfire.

"What have you done?" the echo asks, borrowed power mixing with innate abilities.

I resist the urge to answer, instead I stab him. Perhaps he was expecting powers, but he doesn't know me. There are precious few things a blade in the gut can't solve, and this is not one of them. There is a scream through blood-flecked lips, and then the wind takes him.

Hero?

Not the first one who made that mistake. There are two kinds of heroes in this land. The ones who came here after the chaos, and the ones who lived through it. I don't have the patience for people like this anymore. I've seen them at their worst. Perhaps that makes me as bad as them. Perhaps that could make me worse.

But not yet.

I can feel the buildings breaking apart, people and vehicles sucked up and tossed carelessly across the countryside. If anybody lives, they are up to Steel to deal with. Oh, there the roof went, adobe walls exploding from the changing pressure. Alright. That's enough. I tear off my mask, my nose is bleeding from the blows and it was getting hard to breathe. I clench my fists and push, sending the tornado meandering northeast. It will die out on it's own in due time, the conditions here are not favorable for a long life.

Without me pushing.

I land on the courtyard, a final updraft covering me in dust as I cushion my fall. It is swept clean, the walls still whole, but everything remaining is crushed into the corners. Cars twisted around pillars, the houses half in ruins. Maybe I went a bit overboard. I hear a moan coming from one of the piles, and walk over there, arm covering my face in case they have firearms.

I needn't have worried.

"Ah. Sledgehammer, is it?" I lean down over the grayish shape, trapped under a twisted Jeep. It makes sense, her metal form must have made her too heavy to carry off easily. "Do you plan to break my legs now like you promised last time?"

"Fuck. You." Words pushed forth with effort. One of her arms is twisted wrong, and from the look of things her legs might not be in better shape. Iron can be surprisingly soft and impacts heavily.

"You're not my type." I look around, but there are no others that I can see. Good.

"You. Should have." A pained gasp. "Taken the offer. Don't you see?" 

"See what?" I send up a flare to signal Steel that things are covered here.

"You're not human either." Sledgehammer attempts to push the Jeep off, but there's lo leverage. "You're one of us."

"I'm human," I say, wishing I was sure of that. "And you're all loonies." Not wise to make fun of them, but I can afford to take this seriously. Not with my lungs still hurting from what I did. Was. Dead man walking north, collapsing into dust.

"Bullshit." She spits, and I wonder how deep the metal goes that she still has spit. To the bone? How would that work? "Let us show you the truth of the world."

"Answers are overrated." I look up, the sound of motors are growing louder, as Steel is going in for landing.

"The truth is everything," she hisses. "You already changed yourself to be in line with your truth, why not take the final step?"

"Shut up." I don't kick her, I know from experience how much that would hurt. Instead I gesture for Steel, who lands, then walks over. Heavy footsteps. "Everything cool outside?"

"So far. I'll be up again in a moment. Just wanted to check in." I can't see his face behind the helmet. Military VTOL armor. Was it something similar he used in the army?

"Got any cuffs?" I ask, looking over at Sledgehammer. "I'd rather not leave her here unguarded."

"Sure, I—"

"—help!" Ashfall's voice, and we both turn as he stumbles out of the half-ruined house. Naked. 

"I got you." I run forward, sweeping him up in my arms. He's shaking, shock and cold most likely. "What happened?"

"Void," he whispers, a strange vulnerability in his voice. "Too many. She took Charge. I barely got away."

"I understand." And I do, though I keep my face calm when I spot a hint of green in his dark eyes. She. Huh. "I'm going in. Steel?"

"Yes?" He finishes cuffing Sledgehammer to the Jeep. The magnetic strips might look thin, but they cling to her skin like chains. 

"Get Ashfall a spare skinsuit and secure this area. I'm going in."

"With all due respect," he starts. "Like hell you are. We go in together."

"Yeah," Ashfall nods. "Just give me a moment."

"That's not the plan." I give Steel a stern look, but I only see my own reflection.

"This wasn't the plan either. We will improvise." He holds his ground, which is impressive. 

"Fine." I'm less bothered than I pretend. I trust him to agree with my calls. Ashfall is the bigger worry. "You okay there, kid?"

"I am." He's struggling into the spare skinsuit, the limp, inactive fabric hard to deal with. I resist the urge to help him. He needs to get his confidence back.

"With Charge their captive, they have no choice but to remain here for some time." I scan the horizon, but there is no trace of an enemy. "That means we have a chance to take them down."

"What do you mean?" Steel is moving his scanner, doing the same as I did, but with better chance to pick something up. "What makes you sure they won't just kill Charge?"

"Oh, I'm sure," I say, with grim determination. "They want to turn Charge. Induct them in the Green Sky."

"Fuck." Steel swears, but doesn't contradict me.

"Why?" Ashfall has pulled the suit up now, activating the tension battery. It contracts around him tightly. There is a tone in his voice I don't like. Does he sound jealous?

"Don't ask me," I lie. "The important thing here is that an induction takes time. And Void can't take Charge with them if they teleport."

"Unless there are other exits." Steel looks at me as if he knows I am hiding things, but don't want to bring it up. Ashfall is not a Ranger.

"Good point," I say. "You have the best scanning equipment. It would be best if you took to the skies and searched the surroundings. Ashfall and I will go in."

"Understood." Steel's voice is hard, but he knows he's played himself. "Bring Charge back."

"Sidestep and Anathema is still down there as well." I clap him on the shoulder. "We won't be alone."

Underground, the air still smells like static. I take point, Ashfall following behind. I'm not sure he's able to transform yet, and this way I can send my winds ahead.

Fingertips following the wall.

Some people think I'm useless underground. Granted, I can't use any of the atmospherics around me, but the narrow corridors also help constrain my powers. Focused down a tunnel, it becomes nothing more than the barrel of a gun, and I am the bullet. 

I try not looking at the murals as I descend the stairs.

Ashfall follows.

"You have fought the Void before." His voice is softer than normal, no longer the hero. Just a nervous young man.

"Since the start." I send down a gust, it curls effortlessly downwards, but I sense no movement. "This was your first time, right?"

"Yeah. I..." he hesitates. "I saw something. No. She saw. Me?" He pauses in front of one of the murals, a stylized piece of seven heavens and the angels that flies between them. Borrowed christian mythology, familiar to so many.

"That's what they do." I stop, focusing on my winds as I look at Ashfall. He rubs his eyes but doesn't meet my gaze. "They get in your head and makes you doubt the world."

"I don't doubt." He bites his lip. "But I wish I know what she was."

"Someone who has killed more people than Psychopathor. Someone who captures people they deem worthy, tortures them into submission and feeds them boost drugs until they either die or change." My voice is hard. "I have seen the dead." On my conscience as well.

"I know." He sighs, as if resigning himself to the truth. "Let's continue."

We walk, through empty stairs and burned tunnels. There are signs of battles here, and Ashfall relates what happened. No bodies though, which mean they must have pulled them back. Back behind the barricades.

As if they would hold.

Eventually we reach a locked door, thick iron, locked securely.

"I can go under and open up," Ashfall says, though he's covered with a thin film of sweat. Still shivering, despite the skinsuit.

"Don't worry. I can deal with this. Step back around the corner." I make sure he's safely out of sight, then I focus on the door. On the corridor behind me. I don't hear voices, most likely this is the first in a long line of doors, blocking everybody from the most holy. Had John still been alive, they wouldn't have dared to stay underground.

But he's gone.

I send the wind flying, strengthening it, strengthening it until the door starts to rattle. Only then do I walk back to Ashfall, around the bend, and then I PULL. The door flies off the hinges, the difference in pressure too much to deal with. It impacts the wall right in front of me, and I do not lessen the winds before I step out.

I keep them wrapped around me.

Of course they attack. An ambush, intending to take us down. My winds are hurricane strong now, and it's all I can do to keep my own footing. They have no chance. What better bludgeon for people than stone walls and metal doors? None of the heavy hitters either, they should have known better.

They should have known better...

What have I missed? I can't run, but I pick up speed, keeping Ashfall close so I can weave the winds around us both. One final door, I can feel my winds rushing under it, a massive cavern there and then I push it back. It bends, then buckles, then flies inwards, and I tug to send it to the ceiling. No hurting what I can't feel. Charge is here somewhere.

Oh no.

The room is bright with candles as I step through the door, quieting my winds to avoid snuffing them out. I see Charge on the floor, unconscious and restrained. Sidestep as well, equally out of it. There are four harbingers standing close to them, too close to easily hurt. I know them all, Arsenaux, tall and imposing with her fire. Ladybug, shelled and bright. Swordsman still has his sword sheathed, and Venomous has his foot on Charge's back. There is a fifth girl, which I don't know, which must be new.

"Welcome." There is void, a chuckle in the shadows, a shade of green in the air. 

"Do you think holding them hostage would stop me?" I can see the Void now, here, present. Short next to Arsenaux, with their hand on the woman I don't know. Her eyes glow bright green, she must have been fed Void blood recently. If I struck now, I could get them all. Void is fast, but I am faster. And they think I would hesitate. I'm not that precise, chances are my friends would die too.

I should do it. 

And yet I hesitate. Like last time. Fuck.

"Long enough," the Void says, whispering in my ears from the other side of the room. "Goodbye Nazar, we'll see each other again."

And with that, the group shimmers, they linger long enough to hear my scream of frustration as the new girl teleport them out.

All of them.