3-64. Old Grey

Sami was tired, and down to one sword. Again. She was losing blades at an unprecedented rate, and she was beginning to get a little annoyed by it.

But more, she was worried for Kir, even as a warmth suffused her body. Kir’s Dawn Aura was bolstering her, letting her ignore her exhaustion, but more, the positive side of Longest Night was beginning to take effect.

Kir was in danger. The downside to Longest Night was absolutely absurd. But like all gaming skills, it was a result of balancing. And as Sami’s eyesight became even sharper than it had been, her hearing more sensitive, and her other senses extending outward, she felt a little better about this plan, even if the redheaded Criobani man had apparently defected mid-fight.

The positive side of Longest Night was that it increased the highest stat of each designated ally by an amount equal to Kir’s Allure, which was sitting at a meaty 37 points. 

And to Sami’s eyes, it was like a whole new world had opened up for her vision.

She could see all the cracks and flaws in Old Grey’s steel skin. The tiny imperfections that would give way to the slightest pressure. She could hear the way he breathed, the beating of his heart, and knew he was preparing for a strike. She could hear the way his muscles tensed, and more importantly, which ones did. She could smell his excitement, and disgustingly, his arousal. Not for any person on the battlefield, but for the battle itself.

But that wasn’t what caught her attention. No, what had her attention was the blades of grass that were bent that shouldn’t be. The dirt that was trampled where no boot had tread. 

She saw Siddic, the Criobani assassin that had once been forced to serve Kir, pick up a rock and prepare to throw it. And she knew he was dead well before he did, the smell of smoke and gunpowder filling the air just as Il-Su dropped his Cloak of the Void from behind him, and shoved a small clay ball, the fuse hissing wildly, into Siddic’s open, laughing mouth.

It caught on Siddic’s teeth, and he spat it out at the same moment it was shoved into his mouth, but it was already too late. The explosive went off right next to his face, Il-Su barely able to get his hand out of the way, the rest of his body behind Siddic and shielded from the blast. 

The yield wasn’t high. But it was high enough. 

Sami was disoriented from the sound, her newly enhanced hearing screaming at her as the ball exploded, but Siddic’s face was nearly gone. 

Sami didn’t know why Il-Su was here, and not with Otter. It had been the whole plan. But she also wasn’t surprised. Il-Su always did what he wanted to do. And for now, he seemed to be on their side, as much as she hated it.

Old Grey didn’t even seem to notice that he’d lost his newly acquired ally, charging directly at Kir. Even with her ears ringing, Sami jumped in the way.

She slashed as she moved, her sword coming down on his weak side, aiming for where his broken arm wouldn’t be able to defend. But as she did, the metal skin on that arm shifted, pulsed, and suddenly it was as if the elbow had a brace on it. Skin was exposed as his bone audibly snapped and was supported by the improvised brace made by Old Grey’s own Steelsinging, and he held up his arm to block Sami’s blow. Her sword rang as she struck solid metal, her whole body jolting at the impact, and Old Grey continued the swing, knocking her aside as if she was nothing. 

Sami twisted as she fell, landing in a roll, and came back to her feet just in time to see Kir hold out her shield perfectly in a defensive stance as Old Grey’s fist intercepted it. The shield exploded in bits of wood from the force of the blow, and there was a sickening crunch as Kir’s arm audibly broke. 

Old Grey went for a followup punch, this one with his bad arm, and as he did, Everett caught the arm as it reared back. Old Grey grunted as he looked back, smirked, and then went as if to throw the punch anyway regardless of the hold Everett had on him.

But Everett’s feet were planted, and even bleeding from dozens of tiny wounds, he roared his defiance and heaved, pulling Old Grey from his feet and throwing him to the ground. 

Kir was stunned, and Rua was still struggling to stand because of her earlier injuries, even with the Dawn Aura bolstering her. Her body simply wasn’t cooperating despite the spirit being there. 

Everyone else saw their moment and went for it. 

Everett moved into a grappling hold, getting down to Old Grey’s level and wrapping his legs about his waist, putting him in a classic arm bar hold, locking the broken arm in place. Sami and Il-Su both glanced at each other, hatred flickering in their mutual looks, but nodded to one another and moved on Old Grey, weapons out. Il-Su summoned his Void Blade, the short sword of black nothingness, and Sami looked for the perfect weak point to exploit with Three as she charged.

“No, don’t!” Three’s voice erupted in Sami’s head. “He’s–”

The steel shell encasing Old Grey’s skin exploded outwards, pieces flying away from him. Sami could make out each individual one as they flew in her direction, her body dancing and twisting to avoid them, her sword swinging out to deflect what she could. Some pieces still slashed into her, digging into her skin. Il-Su, fresh as he was, was able to avoid some, and took the rest on his Tenacity, tanking it. 

Everett wasn’t so lucky.

Grappling as he had been, he’d had no opportunity to dodge. His Tenacity had already been down. His body was shredded as shards of metal dug into him, and he let out a pained growl, and then with a defiant yell, opened up his large, draconic snout, and bit down on Old Grey’s shoulder, digging his teeth in. 

Old Grey jerked his arm, and managed to clip Everett in the jaw. There was a snapping noise, and then Old Grey was free, getting to his feet. He was breathing hard, and looked between Sami, Il-Su, and Everett, and then decided he was done playing games.

He raised a boot up and moved to stomp down on Everett’s head, and as he did, the tiny sprout that was Ashborne emerged from Everett’s breast pocket, and with a yell, raised his tiny arms, and roots erupted from the earth, entangling Old Grey’s leg and jerking it off course.

Old Grey let out a startled curse, ripping his foot free, the roots snapping, and then Il-Su and Sami were on him.

Sami swung high, Il-Su going low, a classic tactic of theirs. They’d fought countless battles together, and while they’d all been in games, the principle was the same. They knew one another’s tactics, how they worked, and it was all down to muscle memory. 

But as they both swung, there was another rumble of throat singing, and all the discarded weapons - Everett’s hatchet, the throwing knives and axes of Siddic, the hammer of the large, bald Mikovian of Kir’s - all flew in a circle around Old Grey, a whirlwind of steel.

Old Grey’s smile flashed at them from inside the protective barrier of chaos. “What’s the matter, Steelsinger? All out of Will already? Too bad. You were actually making this kind of fun.”

He sang another note, his one good arm pointing, and weapons began to fly at them both.

And suddenly Kir was there, inexplicably, unannounced. She was between Sami and Il-Su and Old Grey, and she stood as their shield, despite not having one of her own, despite being vulnerable. 

Everett’s hatchet took Kir in the shoulder. Three throwing knives blossomed in her chest, and one of the axes took her in the hip. The massive hammer smashed into Kir’s knee, and there was a sickening crunch. Her leg folded the wrong way, and she went down, the rest of the weapons sailing over where she’d just stood. 

Too late, Old Grey made a panicked gesture, followed by a rumbled note, but it was too late. The damage was already done. 

Sami made it to Kir’s side first, Il-Su shortly behind. He looked oddly panicked, and he was pulling bandages from a pouch, but there was no bandage in the world that would fix this.

There was a cry in the distance, and Sami looked up. Vex, looking like an absolute ruin, was running from the treeline. Even given the time she’d been gone, not even her powers had been able to heal herself fully. She staggered, fell, and then got back up.

She was maybe three hundred paces off. There was no way she’d get to them in time. Kir was bleeding out, and fast. 

One of the knives in her chest had punctured a lung. Another was dangerously close to her heart. The third was in her guts. Some morbid part of Sami’s mind filed the damage away, and noted that even if Kir somehow managed to survive, just from the smell, sepsis was a real threat. Her entrails were torn open from that last knife.

“You stupid, tale-telling fool,” Rua said, as she stumbled up to them. She put her hands over one of Kir’s wounds, as if she’d be able to staunch the blood long enough for Vex to get there and help them.

Sami shared a look with Il-Su, and he shook his head. He didn’t think she was going to last much longer either. 

Kir tried to speak, and blood, pink and frothy, erupted from her lips. 

“No, no,” Old Grey said. “This… this wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“You got your fight,” Rua growled at him. “Are you happy now?”

Kir opened her mouth again, gasped, and this time managed to get the words out. “Here comes… the dawn.”

And then her eyes burst with golden light. Her back arched as she was lifted from the ground. She hovered a foot in the air, her limbs dangling bonelessly. Sami didn’t know what possessed her to say it, but it made sense as she did.

“Take the blades out of her! Do it now!”

Rua didn’t hesitate. She ripped the knives out of her one by one, and Il-Su grabbed the axe lodged in Kir’s hip, pulling it out with a sickening sound. Sami grabbed the hatchet in her shoulder and yanked. It didn’t come out cleanly, as deep as it was in the bone. 

And as each weapon was pulled out of Kir, the wounds slowly closed, bone resetting and mending.

This was Kir’s Promised Dawn, her ultimate ability, the one that had required her to gamble with Longest Night. 

Old Grey took a step forward, his eyes open with wonder. “Kir, I’m so sorry, I–”

And as he took that step, his arm bent, a cracking sound filling the air. It was the same arm Rua had broken before, but now it was horribly mangled. He bellowed out in pain, took another step, and then his leg audibly broke, collapsing under his weight. He let out another startled cry and fell. 

And as he did, his shoulder began to bleed, the skin and flesh and bone parted open as if it’d just been…

As if it’d just been struck by a hatchet.

He clapped his hand to the wound, already rumbling a note out, and steel began to form around it, closing it, but the arm was already ruined beyond immediate repair.

Sami smiled, because she knew what was coming next.

So too did Old Grey.

“Good fight, Kir,” he said, and then his hip began to bleed through his pants. And then, all at once, there were three holes in his chest, each placed exactly where the ones Kir had just been wounded.

Kir gently lowered back to the ground, whole again, unwounded. She managed to raise herself up, though she looked horribly weak, meeting his eyes.

“Good fight, Dad.” 

And then Old Grey fell.