Chapter 99: Priority

"Hit whatever isn’t black and furry."

Mara glanced toward the Seventh Rank. "That distinction may become harder once they start bleeding."

"Then aim carefully." Rook smiled.

The Manager raised one hand.

Stone shifted beneath the ruined street.

"Ready?"

Rook wrapped the grave rope around his left forearm and took both scythes in reverse grips. "No one ever is, still, do it anyway."

The ground beneath the pale Abomination opened.

Both front limbs sank into the softened stone. Before the creature could pull free, the street hardened around them. Columns rose on either side of its body and curved inward, locking across its back.

The pale Abomination screamed.

Its plates lifted as it strained against the restraints. Cracks spread through the street and climbed the newly formed pillars.

Rook ran toward it without hesitation. The creature sensed him before he crossed half the distance. Its divided face turned, and the darkness inside its mouth contracted around his shape.

One of the rear limbs tore free from the feline and swung toward him aiming to impale him in one swing.

Rook dropped into a slide. The hooked hand passed above his head and carved through the corner of a building. He reached the creature’s nearest leg, rose beneath it and drove the first scythe through the joint.

The curved blade emerged from the opposite side. Sputtering black matter. Memories instead of blood seeped out from the wound, eliciting a roar of agony from the creature.

The Feline abomination didn’t let the opportunity go to waste as it bit and tore flesh.

Rook released the handle and continued moving as the grave rope pulled tight behind him. The pale Abomination twisted after him, but the feline seized its neck and dragged its head away.

Rook circled the trapped leg, passed the rope beneath it and threw the free end toward a group of waiting Reapers.

"Pillar!" he shouted. "Wrap it twice and don’t stand in front of the rope."

Four Reapers caught the cord and ran toward one of the Beacon’s outer supports. They looped it around the stone as Rook pulled the other direction. The rope tightened, drawing the creature’s leg against the pillar.

Its claws tore trenches through the street.

The Manager’s restraints broke. The stone that was holding the pale abomination shattered as sheer muscle was able to break it. After all, the Manager of the Forty Second wasn’t built for combat.

The pale creature surged forward, but its trapped leg remained behind. The joint stretched, black tissue pulling into cords around the scythe.

Rook attacked the opposite side.

He ran beneath the creature as it fought the feline, cutting across every exposed section he could reach. The second scythe opened the soft tissue beneath its abdomen. He reversed the blade, hooked it between two plates and used the creature’s movement to tear the wound wider.

Dark arms spilled out and reached for him. Remembered abomination flesh was transforming into weapons.

"Disgusting," Rook severed them without slowing.

The pale creature twisted far enough to bring its mouth toward him. The vertical jaws opened, but the feline struck its head aside. Its claws dug into the pale armor and ripped three plates from the creature’s back.

The Reapers joined the attack.

Spears and hooked chains struck the exposed tissue. Those with ranged Death Imprints targeted the joints Rook had opened. A blade formed from frost entered one wound and expanded, forcing two plates apart. Another Reaper released a burst of compressed air that drove the broken armor deeper into the creature’s body.

The fight had changed. They were no longer panicking and seemed to have reached a consensus of their own. Fight now, to survive later.

The pale Abomination no longer faced a single opponent. The feline remained upon it from one side while dozens of Reapers attacked from the other, withdrawing whenever its attention shifted toward them.

Rook moved through the space between both creatures.

He never allowed himself to remain beneath the same limb for longer than a breath. One scythe remained buried in the trapped leg, but he used the second to cut, hook and redirect anything that came within reach. When the pale creature attempted to turn toward the Reapers holding the rope, Rook sliced through the dark cords supporting its rear knee.

The leg folded, destabilizing it. Allowing the feline to drive the creature onto its side.

A hooked hand swept across the ground and nearly caught Rook’s chest. He jumped onto the limb, ran along its length and buried his scythe near the shoulder. The creature tried to shake him free. Rook released the weapon, caught the grave rope and swung beneath its body before landing several paces away.

For the first time, Rook’s back faced the feline. Rook would have never allowed his back to face an abomination unprepared. A real monstrous and evil one, or one pretending to be an ally.

Mara saw the mistake and shouted his name.

Rook did not turn. He seemed to be having his own ideas.

His right hand had already entered his coat. A thunder charge rested beneath his fingers, its fuse pressed against the metal striker sewn into his sleeve.

It was not a mistake. He never would have allowed himself to give his back to another monster.

The feline stood directly behind him. Its breath passed over his shoulders, hot enough to disturb his coat. One movement would place its jaws around his head.

Rook continued watching the pale creature. While at the same time, all his senses were sharpened against the one behind him.

He gave the Seventh Rank every opportunity to attack. The feline could easily kill Rook, that’s the bait.

A black paw descended. "Tsk, figured as much." One claw touched the back of his coat.

Rook’s thumb struck the charge.

Before the fuse caught, the claw hooked into the heavy fabric without piercing the flesh beneath it. The feline’s jaws closed around the loose section near his shoulder and pulled.

Rook twisted, bringing the thunder charge up between them. His scythe rose toward the cloth, ready to cut himself free.

Then a pale limb crashed into the ground where he had been standing.

The impact split the street.

The feline released him at the height of the movement, throwing him clear of the blow. Rook turned twice in the air, found the ground with both feet and drove the scythe into the stone.

The blade carved a long trench through the street before his momentum finally stopped.

He remained crouched at the end of it, thunder charge still raised. Across the square, the feline had taken the strike intended for him.

The pale creature’s hooked hand had entered beneath its shoulder and torn through part of its chest. Black blood ran down the attacking limb. The feline snarled, trapped the hook inside its own body and bit through the joint before the creature could pull it free.

Rook stared.

The thunder charge continued hissing between his fingers.

Mara reached him and slapped the fuse against the ground, smothering it before the powder inside ignited. "Were you planning to blow both of you apart?"

"Only if it bit me."

"but it didn’t..."

"My coat. That’s almost like biting me."

"That distinction nearly stopped existing."

Rook rose and looked at the torn fabric hanging from his shoulder. No claw had touched his skin. The feline had controlled enough of its strength to pull him clear without crushing him, then accepted the blow meant for his body.

He spat dust from his mouth.

"Fuck."

Mara watched the Seventh Rank tear at its opponent. "It really is protecting us."

"I noticed." Mara said.

"Why do you sound disappointed?" Fredrick added.

"Because this changes things."

"How?" Mara asked.

"An Abomination trying to kill us is normal. One trying to keep us alive means something is very wrong."

The pale creature wrenched its remaining limbs beneath the feline and threw it aside. Grave rope snapped tight around its trapped leg, bending the Beacon’s outer pillar under the force. The four Reapers holding the line were pulled from their feet.

Rook tore the damaged section of his coat away and tightened his grip upon the scythe.

Whatever the feline wanted from them remained unknown. It had trapped hundreds of souls inside a lost Bastion, defended the Beacon from another creature and now allowed itself to be wounded protecting individual Reapers.

None of that made it safe. And all of it went against every belief system Rook had for the underworld. Abominations are not allies. They never were, never should be.

That belief to him, never changed. It did, however, make the creature trying to kill them the immediate problem instead of the feline.

Rook pointed toward the grave rope. "Keep that line tight. Manager, take the other front leg. Everyone else, wait until its face turns away before attacking."

Mara followed as he started back toward the fight. "And what are you going to do?"

"Find out how many pieces it can lose before it stops moving."

The feline struck the pale creature again.

Rook rushed in beside it.