|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:45 am
Takes place 1/17, two weeks after the events at Northpoint Being outside felt dangerous. For well over a week, every powered excursion turned into a hunt. It was impossible to hide from the youma.
Without fail, they showed up.
Fifteen minutes was the longest anyone managed to stay out before the youma found them. More often it was less than ten minutes. Sometimes less than five.
They were becoming familiar faces–all dog-shaped, but with the temperament of rabid wolves. No one had been seriously hurt by the youma, but it was only a matter of time. There had been escalations.
Small packs turned into larger ones.
Sometimes the youma seemed to be playing with them, testing them.
Other times, the youma attacked with strange ferocity, growling and snarling as if they meant to tear them apart.
There was no predictable temperament–only a predictable outcome.
The youma always found them.
And sometimes, the General did too.
Of the run-ins they'd had with him so far, no one had wound up dead again yet. But maybe that was only a matter of time.
At first, he'd given them an ultimatum–return the stolen items. No one could say he'd been courteous about it, but he hadn't led with an attack. He'd given them a chance.
And then, with each subsequent clash, his patience wore thinner.
He was getting dangerous.
And they were running out of time–and options.
They needed to figure things out–fast. Something, anything, to get him off their backs. He was hunting them relentlessly, and it didn't seem like he had any intention of stopping.
He said he only wanted his items returned, but just because he said something didn't make it true. The Negaverse was generally not to be trusted–and he especially did not seem particularly honorable.
When investigating the basement, they'd found a set of keys and a USB drive. They'd taken a stash of starseeds. They'd damaged the strange plants.
The General had given very little information. He simply showed up, made demands–made threats–and disappeared.
A habit he had no intention of keeping for long, judging by the measured escalations.
Meeting tonight was dangerous–but necessary.
If they were lucky, they'd just have to deal with a few youma–and maybe he wouldn't show up. Maybe they'd get a few hours without worrying that he was coming.
Maybe they'd be able to figure out where the youma were coming from–or maybe even figure out how to stop them from coming.
It felt like a shot in the dark, but so did most things.
They were desperate.
So, late that Saturday night, they arranged a rendezvous. They had been careful–told others where they were going, just in case something happened. It wouldn't have been surprising if some of their allies were lurking nearby, ready to spring if things got out of hand.
There was no telling. It felt like the teenagers were alone. They’d timed their power-ups carefully, planning to do so only just before meeting. Their energy signatures all flared within seconds of each other.
They had chosen a relatively safe place, not out in the open but instead in an abandoned laundromat. The doors locked–if you were willing to struggle with them. It could buy them a few seconds before any youma could get in–and it was highly unlikely that the General would have been here before. Which meant he couldn't just teleport in–he'd have to make his way in too.
The laundromat had been entirely cleared out long ago, and now it was just an empty room with bare tile floors and naked concrete walls. It was a wide-open space, and though it had large glass windows, there were dark roller shades pinned high on the wall. They were paper-thin–hardly enough to block out the sun–and dusty, left behind because they were too much of a hassle to remove.
Easy enough to pull down once they arrived, though. Anyone could have smashed through the glass to break in, but it was still an extra second of warning.
Only a single, badly dented, rusted washer remained in the room, and some old papers taped to the walls.
Dering had suggested the laundromat not just because it was out of the way, but also because the back room concealed a hidden path out–just in case something went too wrong. The old boiler room had doubled as a ventilation unit, and several rectangular grates lined the floor. Two were still sealed shut outside, but plywood had rotted on the third. More than that, the shrubbery outside completely concealed it from view.
There was a small crawl tunnel leading out to the backlot. If they needed it.
Dering hadn't really expanded on how he'd come across this place, but he had mentioned acoustics briefly. He'd been quicker to assure them that it was slated for demolition soon, as if he needed to soothe any concern that someone might be inconvenienced if something happened here.
No one cared about this place. The parking lot was overgrown with weeds, and the shrubbery and crooked trees had been left unattended for years. The parking lot had too many potholes to count, and the cracked asphalt was ugly and dangerous.
There was no reason for anyone to be here–so, they were.
It was colder inside the laundromat, and the air smelled a bit stale, but once the blinds were drawn and the door locked, they were safe.
For now.
A dim camping lantern had been placed in the back of the room, enough to let them see but not so bright that it would draw any attention.
"Okay," Amarynthos said, running his fingers through his hair. "I'm getting sick of these youma. I swear, I'm seeing the same ones every other day. Even the ones I'm dusting. That's not normal. I thought they were supposed to need time to recover–and there can't possibly be that many dog-youma. I'm like two seconds away from asking Ganymede to come out with me every time I power up and ask her if she can just get rid of them permanently. Do we have any ideas?"
Lyon stood with his arms crossed over his chest, weight shifted to one foot. He didn't have any ideas, not really. He didn't have the experience to come up with ideas. He was tired of being a youma-chew toy–and he didn't even have any magic to fight them off. At this rate, he'd have to stop powering up entirely. He considered himself lucky–but luck ran out eventually.
Dering was quiet, used to listening more than speaking. He wasn't sure if any Princess could single-handedly destroy a full youma army. He also didn’t know how quickly the Negaverse could replace that army.
But, he did know the cost of replacements.
Dering had questions, not answers, so he kept his mouth closed. He stayed out of the way and stood, back straight and shoulders tight, while his fingers rested on his lute's strings. He listened, but his eyes darted from the front door to the back, as if trying to catch a shadow before it moved.
No youma on the radar. No Negaverse agents.
Still safe.
For now.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:47 am
Reims had been quiet since they’d gotten there.
He didn’t sit. He didn’t relax. The second the door was locked, his hand gripped around the hilt of his sword. He waved it back and forth in an open area of the laundromat, like he was stepping up to the plate at a ballfield, and restlessly twirled it like he would a bat.
If he stood too long in one place, he could feel the urge to pace crawl up his spine. It felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it always did. It had been two weeks of this. Harassed by youma, harassed by the General, never a moment where they could stay long enough to breathe without checking on shadows.
And it seemed to be just them. None of the others they knew seemed to have this problem of youma randomly showing up when they powered up. Which was why he wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting anyone else involved. As satisfying as Ganymede dusting these youma for good would be.
He let out a breath, trying to keep himself calm.
“They’re watching us,” he said finally, low enough that it was almost a growl. “The youma. The General. They know what we’re doing, or they wouldn’t keep finding us this fast. It’s not random.”
He looked toward the curtained window, then back to the others -- Dering, Lyon, Yvoire -- just long enough to make sure they were still on their feet. Still in one piece. He could live with exhaustion and bruises. He couldn’t live with losing anyone.
“If this keeps up, we’re going to have to start treating every night like a fight. I don’t care if it’s training or patrols. He’s not giving us any choice.”
Ephesus had been quiet as well, but for entirely different reasons.
He’d stayed close to Amarynthos, hovering just behind him with his hands clasped together. Every sound outside made him flinch. The shifting of the blinds, the hum of the lantern, the faint whistle of air through the empty space. It all sounded like something ready to jump out at them.
“I don’t think they’re normal, either,” he whispered, voice soft and thin with worry. “They feel more like tools than youma.”
He hesitated, fidgeting with his fingers and wringing them anxiously. It felt too much like saying something would make it real.
He hated how scared he sounded. He hated how much worse it got every time they were found. Sometimes, he thought about how they should just never go out again, but they couldn’t just stay hidden.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:50 am
Yvoire was quiet.
He was frequently quiet when they were together, prone to periods of anxiety and insecurity, but his silence seemed heavier in the wake of death. He stood closer to Dering than anyone else, seeking comfort in their comparable reserve. The wall behind him offered uncomfortable support, but Yvoire leaned his weight against it anyway. He’d already ditched his cape and hat, expecting a fight before long and not wanting to be weighed down by either. He gripped his parasol in one hand. The other arm crossed over his abdomen. After two weeks, the lingering soreness had gone, but Yvoire still moved like he was afraid he might split open again.
“Maybe we should stop powering up for a while,” he said, voice soft and uncertain. “They’ve only come after us when we do. I haven’t had any trouble when I don’t. Unless… I mean, I guess we can’t guarantee they’ll never be able to find us when we power down…”
The thought made Yvoire vaguely ill. If at any point they became vulnerable when they were powered down, their families and friends would be in danger, too.
His gaze found Reims. These days Yvoire didn’t often care to look anywhere else until he had to, but he was trying to respect the tension and Reims’ restless response to it by suppressing the impulse to cling, even if, deep down, Yvoire would rather attach himself to Reims’ hip in much the same way Ephesus and Amarynthos were often attached to one another.
“At least the big six-legged one hasn’t come back yet,” Yvoire continued, aiming for a bright side that didn’t seem to exist.
He winced. Now that he’d said it, they’d probably see it again soon.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:54 am
The danger of meeting up to talk for longer than a few minutes was undeniable after the past week. But Halle found himself almost hoping it meant a fight with the youma pack that had been dogging their heels. It would be a situation that they could feel was a win, giving them some kind of control of their situation, however temporary. But a big fight meant a better chance of worse following after the pack, and they didn’t have a plan for that. Not yet at least.
Idly lifting the top of the washer to peer in and giving a resulting grimace, he listened with a restlessness that had been growing with each encounter with the odd youma. “Not watching, they’re tracking us.” Another grimace, “I think there’s something wrong with our powered forms. Maybe our rings or weapons or…have any of you talked to a Mauvian? They check aura stuff, right?”
Pensive, he added, “There was so much wrong in that place.” And some of it they’d breathed in. But they were safe, it seemed, as civilians. So maybe there were’s like, chaos mushrooms growing in their throats and lungs, leaving trails of spore to track with their every breath. Though that didn’t mean he wasn’t having plenty of daymares about it whenever left with took much time and space to think about it all.
“The past few nights I’ve just been going to my wonder,” he admitted. “It feels pointless to patrol when it’s just bringing more danger to an area.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 11:02 am
Stirling had been trying…trying to be good, and hadn’t powered up until tonight, but the stories she had been told about what was happening were…honestly terrifying. The fact that her cast vanished when she powered up was also mildly terrifying, and her arm was just, held stiffly, and while she was sorely tempted to poke at it, she didn’t and just kept it held over her front as she would have if she were simply here as Brooklyn.
The cast was honestly cute. A pretty lavender color and was decorated with drawings and signatures, she liked it.
Glancing up at Yvoire’s words, Stirling nodded slightly. “...Honestly, I kind of think maybe that’s the best idea? It sucks, completely, like I don’t want to feel any more useless than I already do but…if we’re being targeted specifically, maybe staying out of the limelight for a little bit would be best?”
Not that…this was really limelight? They were doing their jobs. Keeping the city safe. Sure she had taken a break, but the others hadn’t…
Letting out a rather violent breath of air, Stirling shrugged. “Or…trying to train more on our Wonders? Maybe I should do that…couldn’t hurt. And I’m not great for much else really right now.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 11:03 am
Lisse sat near his brother, rubbing at his eye which was stupidly itchy for some reason. It didn’t make sense for it to be but. Here he was. He didn’t have much to contribute, but for a moment he brightened just slightly. “I was up on my Wonder, and was able to find my summons so, there’s that. It’s not nearly as impressive as the others that I’ve seen but…I’m happy about that at least? Not happy that we’re being literally stalked but…”
He shrugged and let his hands fall into his lap. “What if this lasts forever? How are we going to stop it if that’s the case? Are we going to have to like…kill this General?”
It wasn’t…a comforting thought but. He supposed that it was something they should be considering…
Unfortunately.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 11:04 am
Lyon shifted his weight and brushed his shoulder as if sweeping off dust. His eyes caught Halle’s briefly. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to say it, but every time I power up it smells weird. Like the basement, kind of. I thought it was just my nose,” which had burned for days even after healing magic. It felt like the afterward of a bad cold, throat and nose scraped raw by whatever foul mist they’d inhaled. He felt better now, but the scent remained.
When he was powered. But he was still so new to this, maybe it was just his uniform.
Lyon didn’t smell like this.
He twisted the ring on his finger absentmindedly, still getting used to its weight.
“Can’t help but notice it’s a bunch of dogs that keep showing up.”
Yvoire had mentioned the six-legged youma. Lyon would be glad if he never saw it again–and he hadn’t even been fighting that one.
“Well,” Amarynthos said, aiming for reason, “I guess there’s some good in it. Have any of you run into any other youma in the last week or two?”
A few head shakes. A few ‘No’s.
He exhaled and nodded. “Okay–so we know he’s sending youma after us. They’re the youma we already ran into.” Youma they’d already dusted–at least once. “He’s working with specific ones. I know the Negaverse can summon youma whenever they want, but it’s not usually the same one, right? So this is different already.”
Everything about this was different already. But Amarynthos continued, “Somehow, he’s got access to this group of youma. And he’s only sending them after us. Ganymede suggested that maybe he was doing something off the books–something even the Negaverse doesn’t know about.”
Which made him more dangerous, honestly. They didn’t have Negaverse allies they could sic on him, and what were they supposed to do–report him for…trying to kill them? Yeah, okay.
Something uncomfortable flickered on Amarynthos’ radar–far away, brief. Just a blip.
It felt like a youma.
And then it was gone.
Then a second blip, a little further away, but from the same direction.
And then it was gone, too.
Amarynthos was still, not quite frowning, but his face had settled into something still. The animated exasperation was gone from his features, replaced by something colder. He was already on edge.
It would have been a disservice to his instincts to think it was just a fluke–confirmed, when a third youma energy signature flickered and then disappeared.
Maybe it would have been possible to think it was just one youma running in and out of range, but he knew better than that, and the hope would have been dashed as soon as two more energy signatures appeared simultaneously before they too flickered.
“...I’ve talked to Mauvians,” he reported. “...But it’s not like we’ve been able to be powered up for long before trouble shows up.” And they were lucky if it was just youma. “I don’t want that General to figure out who we’re close to. I don’t want them to turn into targets. So–no, I haven’t had much luck there. But that’s a good idea, Halle. I’d like to figure out whatever’s going on.”
Another youma signature. There, gone.
It was hard to focus.
Ephesus was right, too–they felt like tools. Like they were meant to be scouts, or distractions. And, it was working. Right now, he was very distracted. And they weren’t even here. Yet.
He shook his head. If tonight was like other nights, they didn’t have much time.
“I don’t know if not powering up is an option. He’s looking for stuff, yeah? Every time he shows up, he’s after the same things. I think if he can’t find us, he’s just going to get more creative. I think he’d keep trying to hunt us down, even if we weren’t powering up. And he knows things–I don’t know what he knows, but he’s not really been very secret about the fact that we should be ‘grateful’ for his mercy, or whatever.”
Bitterness slipped into Amarynthos’ voice but he drew a quick, calming breath. His shoulders relaxed. His face eased. He smiled reassuringly at Ephesus.
“Anyway, there’s gotta be some end to this.” Preferably that didn’t end with having to kill someone. But if it was the General or his friends–
They knew what he was capable of. They knew he wasn’t going to stop.
Amarynthos tried not to let the silence hang.
The wind blew–rattled the door just slightly. He knew what it was and it still made him tense. Dering had been looking at it before he had, but then his eyes drifted to the door in the back and stayed there.
Amarynthos exhaled again. “Maybe we can train on our Wonders–congrats on the summon, Lisse–but I don’t know if that should be a long term solution. Obviously nobody has to fight if they don’t want to–keep yourself safe. But. This guy’s so dangerous. I don’t want anything to happen to any of you. He says he just wants what we ‘took’ but I don’t think he’ll stop once he’s gotten what he’s after. I think it’s too risky.”
But all of this was risky.
Another youma signature blipped on his radar–closer, but it appeared strangely nearby. He knew his radar could pick things up from further away.
It disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared.
Another signature flickered–even closer–then disappeared immediately.
The youma were up to something.
Anyone who would sense their energy signatures could pick it up: something was happening.
The youma were already on their way.
Maybe they were already here.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 11:08 am
The hairs on the back of his neck rose before Amarynthos even said anything.
He’d been waiting for the energy flares too. Each one like a quiet pulse, too quick and inconsistent to determine where exactly they were. Every time one vanished, it felt like bait being reeled back, just out of reach.
He didn’t like it.
Reims adjusted his grip on his sword, stilling as if that would help him hear better, or at least sense the auras better.
“Feels like they’re testing our range. Or trying to confuse us,” he growled, agitated by the games the General liked to play. He glanced over across the group. Dering nearby, Yvoire against the wall, Lyon shifting with restless energy that seemed to mirror his own. He counted them all, as if keeping track of them might somehow keep them safe.
He didn’t like how the air smelled stale, but there was something else there. Sour and metallic, like in the basement. And when Lyon mentioned it, Reims froze for a moment.
“I thought I smelled that too,” he admitted. “Glad it’s not just me.” Not that the relief in his tone lasted.
He took a step closer to the others. “We should stay close. If they’re jumping in and out of range, they’re probably circling. We can’t afford to get split up.”
Reims moved until he was within reaching distance of Yvoire and Dering, but his attention stayed on the door and the flickering signatures that kept flaring in the distance. His whole body felt like spring being wound too tightly.
“If they want a fight, we’ll just dust them again,” he muttered, ready for the inevitable.
The moment Amarynthos’s expression shifted, Ephesus knew. He didn’t need to ask. He could feel it too. The sudden flicker of Chaos energy, there and gone. It made his throat tight with anxiety.
He moved closer, almost without thinking, standing close enough to Amarynthos that he could lean against him if he wanted. He didn’t. He could still stand tall and be useful. He gripped tightly to his scepter as he glanced along the walls, as if he could see beyond them.
“They’re close,” he whispered, voice trembling but not yet breaking. “It’s like… they’re trying to get us to move first.”
He saw Dering look toward the doors, knowing he wasn’t the only one who felt on edge. His pulse was fast, but his hands were steady. If they were going to fight, he’d be ready to keep them standing. That was his job. That was what he could do.
He didn’t want to think about having to kill anyone. The thought made him flinch, and this time he did momentarily press his forehead to Amarynthos’s shoulder, before straightening back up again, blinking back tears he refused to let fall.
“We’ll be okay,” he said, but it was quiet, like he was unsure if he was trying to convince himself or everyone else.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 11:09 am
Yvoire stiffened against the wall.
Given the facts of the situation, he didn’t disagree with Amarynthos. Not powering up may not be a solution, depending on how the General and his youma were tracking them. Giving the General what he wanted probably wouldn’t solve anything either. The Negaverse wasn’t exactly known for their altruism; once he had what he wanted, there would no longer be any reason for the General to let them live. Their Wonders might offer a temporary reprieve, but they weren’t always reachable, and remaining there for the long term presented its own issues.
But Yvoire was afraid. Dying had made him cautious. A part of him wanted to reject Amarynthos’ logic and try all of it. He wanted to power down and hide somewhere the General couldn’t find him. He wanted the others to give back what they’d taken. He wanted to run away and never come back to Earth, take Dad with him and try to build a life on Ganymede.
Yvoire didn’t feel brave. He didn’t feel strong. He felt cornered and broken, keenly aware of just how vulnerable he was. His heartrate spiked with every blip on his radar. Close. Closer. There and gone again. They were circling, maybe. Or hunting. Lying in wait. Taunting them. Yvoire felt too exposed, but he felt trapped, too. Surrounded. The walls seemed to close in on him.
He reached for Reims’ arm as soon as Reims was close enough, pulling it around himself. Yvoire put his head on Reims’ shoulder for a moment and tried to control his breathing. He couldn’t give into the fear. They all had a part to play: shielding, healing, fighting, each as crucial as the last. Yvoire didn’t want to let his friends down. If any of them were hurt because of him, he would never forgive himself.
He took a deep breath. He let it out slowly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 11:12 am
Though they took their places in the room, everything felt uncannily still. Silent.
Outside, the wind blew. Heavy tree boughs cracked under the strain.
A thin trickle of fog spilled beneath the door–not unusual for this time of year, but perhaps odd in its sudden arrival.
If there had been concerns about it, they were quickly justified–
The first window shattered like a scream in the night. Something loud and heavy fell to the ground and rolled towards them–a small, dark ball. The air rippled around it, like heat on asphalt.
The rest of the glass windows broke in rapid succession. Like a bomb blowing out, glass exploded through the air. The thin curtains provided no protection; they were shredded immediately. Nine youma, all at once.
With no energy signature.
Fog spilled into the room like a river, rolling with such ferocity that it smashed against the walls like water on rocks.
Music–Dering’s lute–filled the room, only to stop suddenly. The strings ended on a discordant note. He tried again.
No shield.
The youma hunched, low to the ground, ready to lunge. They waited by the windows.
The glass door offered no protection. The masked General sauntered through the threshold. Fog spilled around him, icy cold and so dense that it felt like being hit by a strong gust. It swallowed the floor and filled the room. By the time he spoke, it was already waist-high–and rising.
“Oh. How convenient. You’re all in one place.”
Or, most of them.
Enough of them.
He rolled his wrist like he was warming up and dragged the tip of his sword along the floor as he entered. The teeth-rattling sound of metal on concrete accompanied his entrance.
“Good. We’ll make this quick. I believe you were going to return something of mine?”
Quote: Items used: Smoke Bomb Suppressor - A golf ball sized smoke bomb
When thrown against the ground the smoke bomb releases a transparent, odorless smoke that cannot be avoided. The smoke affects everyone within fifteen feet of where it was thrown and suppresses all magic for sixty seconds. It prevents all Senshi and Knight Magic, all teleportation, all summoning weapons--you still have the physical boost of your rank but any additional magical abilities cannot be accessed if you inhaled any smoke. After sixty seconds, the smoke fades and magical abilities return.
Faded Talisman - An ominous strip of leather with faded runes painted or carved into it
When wielded, this talisman will produce a thick fog that covers up to ten feet around the wielder, and up to ten feet above them. Wherever they move, they will be completely enshrouded in a white haze that is impossible to see through. The fog will move where they move, and the talisman seems to keep producing the fog for up to five minutes. It is impossible for anyone to see anything in this fog, and anyone inside the fog will find that their energy signatures are completely dampened and they can neither feel outside energy signatures nor do they seem to have one, themselves.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 11:16 am
The sound of glass shattering was like a gunshot.
Reims barely had time to process it before Yvoire’s hand caught his sleeve and pulled him closer. The instinct to fight, to move, brace, swing, was instantaneous, but the feel of Yvoire’s weight against him made him freeze just long enough for him to realize what he needed to do first.
He turned, just enough to catch Yvoire’s trembling hand in his own and pull him in tight, one arm firm around his shoulders, the other still gripping his sword. His pulse was racing so fast that he was sure Yvoire could probably feel it.
“Hey, I’ve got you,” he muttered, his voice low but sounding rough in his throat. “Don’t move, okay? Just stay behind me.”
He could feel fog coiling up his legs, cold and damp, carrying that sour, metallic scent again. He coughed once-- and the moment he did he knew something was wrong. The magic that was ready to be called on didn’t answer as he gripped his hand around his sword. It was like someone had cut the wire.
s**t.
He forced his focus back to what was immediately happening around them. Yvoire still against him, shaking but alive. The others gathering closer, trying to get their bearings. And then-- footsteps.
The General stepped through the fog, dragging that sword like he wanted everyone to hear it. The sound made Reims’s teeth clench. He adjusted his grip and angled himself slightly, keeping Yvoire half behind him.
He didn’t know what he hated more -- the arrogance in the man’s walk, or the way he spoke, like this was just a routine errand.
Reims let out a breath, sharp and cold. He bared his teeth in something that wasn’t quite a smile.
“Cahir, huh?” he called over the hiss of the fog. “You sure took your time finding us. Starting to think you were scared.”
He didn’t care if it actually hit any nerves. What mattered was keeping the General focused on him. Not Yvoire or Ephesus or Dering or any of the others.
The Mauvians had cracked into the USB of course. There hadn’t been enough time, or enough safe encounters, to share the information with everyone, but that was something Reims knew Amarynthos intended to do that night.
“You really think one sword’s enough to take us all down?” he added, voice low, taunting. “Guess you didn’t learn from the last time we dusted your pets.”
He didn’t know if it was bravery or bluff, but it didn’t matter. He stepped forward anyway, putting himself fully between the General and the others, sword raised, defiant. “You want your toys back? Come take them.”
Stay focused on him. The others could probably slip out through the vent Dering pointed out. It was foggy enough.
The explosion of glass made him flinch so hard that he recoiled into Amarynthos. He didn’t scream, but only because the air was already gone -- torn from his lungs by the thick, choking fog that filled the room. It burned cold when he breathed it in.
Ephesus coughed and reached instinctively for the little glass bauble tied to his waist. He held it in his hands, calling for aid--
Nothing.
He tried again, more desperate, begging -- but the water inside the bauble remained still and lifeless.
“No--” he choked, panic clawing its way up his throat. “No, no, no. It’s not working, it’s not--”
He barely noticed that his hands were shaking until the bauble slipped from his fingers. Thankfully it was tied securely to his side, but he grabbed for it again anyway, tears already streaming down his face.
“Something’s wrong with my magic,” he gasped out a whisper, looking up at Amarynthos with wide, wet eyes. “It’s gone-- I can’t--”
He couldn’t finish the sentence. The sound of claws and metal scraping against tile had him frozen in place. He clutched the bauble to his chest and pressed close to Amarynthos, trying to make himself small. He could still feel his heartbeat, wild and terrified, echoing through his chest.
If he couldn’t heal, if he couldn’t summon, if the magic was really gone--
He bit down on a sob and pressed his face to Amarynthos’s shoulder, trying not to come apart completely.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice broken. “I’ll-- I’ll stay close. I won’t get in the way.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 11:32 am
Yeah. The smell. So it wasn’t just him stretching to make the connection and put proof to his own thoughts. The fact that it was dog youma seeking them out, too…
Ideally, they could bring this matter to older, more experienced knights and senshi. To royals like Lysithea and Ganymede. He’d heard Cosmos was also uniquely powerful. But in some ways, though extremely important to them in this moment. This general and whatever he was doing was not on the level of the Calamitous Hollow. This wasn’t an all call situation. And they were the ones literally marked out to deal with it.
Not powering up really wasn’t any kind of long term solution. But they should, probably, start powering up with more thought and intention. Not just for their own safety but because being sought out and reliably zeroed in on mean that they had a potential strategic advantage.
A really dangerous one. But being the ones to decide when and where a fight took place could be incredibly…
Annoying, Halle thought grimly as the youma signatures began to ping.
The sounds of glass breaking and a thick blanket of smoke filled the air. Followed, of course, by the general. Something more than the smoke began obscuring him. It was fine, he could…
He could not.
Tulip could…
She could not.
Magic was barred to him, and not seeing any immediate flares of anyone else's magic, all of theirs was suppressed as well. The general likely understood their tactical advantage even before they were fully able to realize it themselves, and so came prepared. Having a smart opponent was intensely irritating.
The surge of anger was followed by a brief shriek of thin metal as Halle yanked the lid off the washer behind him and moved forward to stand next to Reims. Whatever was suppressing their magic was going to be limited by either time or this space. It may not be at a low cost, but they could afford to buy the others some of both.
“I’d be happy to return everything you gave me, sir.” It still hurt to breathe too deeply after all.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 4:01 pm
Stay behind me.
Yvoire wanted to argue. He wanted to fight. He wanted to run. He wanted to drag Reims with him. Every impulse hit at once, each as strong as the others. Indecision kept him rooted to the spot, not so much hiding behind Reims as frozen there. Fear was a burden. Before the basement, Yvoire had been able to fight through it. Now it consumed him. The sound of metal on concrete drew his gaze to the General’s sword, piercing into his memory.
He remembered the sounds. Cracks. Snaps. Thumps. Two swords meeting. Dering’s brief attempt to play his lute reminded Yvoire of twanging strings and splintering wood. He remembered the pain across his middle, burning hot, stealing his breath. He remembered the cold and the creeping darkness. He remembered Reims’ scarf beneath his cheek. He remembered the sharp tang of blood. He remembered seeing himself—red, red, and more red; dripping, pouring, pooling; spilling.
He remembered waking in agony without the energy to scream.
Yvoire trembled where he stood. His heart skipped once, twice. The cold fog filled his lungs like dozens of tiny icicles piercing him from the inside. Both hands wrapped around his parasol in a white knuckled grip, palms cold and clammy.
If he tried and failed to use his magic, he wasn’t cognizant of it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 4:12 pm
Useless was a word that plagued Stirling more often than she wanted it too, but the idea that she wasn’t the only one who was useless in this situation gave her courage. It was very backwards thinking but, sometimes that was the best she could do. Her rapier had been summoned when she first started sensing the youma, and she was glad of it.
She did try to make her shield, but as everyone else was complaining and worrying about things not working, her magic too was defunct, but…that was okay. She had one good arm and a long weapon that could poke people and smack them around the head.
Hadn’t that been her motto when she was a page? Stick the long, thin piece of metal in the eyes? She used to be scrappy, still could be scrappy, would have to be a careful kind of scrappy maybe ******** it.
Seriously, that was the motto ******** it. They were outnumbered, again and all rendered pretty much helpless…so…what was the worst that could happen? They died? Well…yeah actually that would be the worst but…if they just lamented the loss of magical power…wouldn’t that be the case?
Huffing out a breath, Stirling took a running start, brandishing her rapier. “******** you. We’re not afraid of you, and you’re not going to subdue us that easily, you creep.”
Maybe she would be able to inspire the others to…be crazy and…foolish. Or maybe this would do something good. She wasn’t really sure.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 4:13 pm
Luke didn’t freeze, but it was a very near thing. He relied heavily on his magic…perhaps too heavily, now that he was thinking about it. It made him feel strong, confident. It was…rather foolish now that he stood here, useless. Maybe…what Jason had said before that he should work on other physical things…get physically stronger…
Ugh. He hated when his brother was proven right. He also hated just how effortlessly Halle blended in, took charge. Stood next to Reims like he had every right to be there and knew just what he was doing…but.
Okay. Reims had his sword, which was awesome. Halle had…a…washing machine lid…which…okay sure.
Stirling was just going for it, and…okay wow. Brave…or stupid, he wasn’t sure. Maybe. He could help just by…being himself?
Darting behind his brother and Reims, he gently tugged Yvoire a little closer. “You’re okay. We’re okay.” Maybe he could reassure and just be personable. And…if he could protect the one that Reims seemed most worried about? Well…
Brownie points?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
