Chapter 18: THE GUNSLINGER [PART SEVENTEEN]

Five suns above remain at rest, the decaying colors of each of their forms hanging in the sky.

The cold wind sends a chill up Alto’s spine as he walks through a dead town. Doors barricaded against an angel of death, windows unlit in the silence of fear. Only the trudging of boots upon the bisecting road of Old Springs is heard among practiced ears, the journey meandering itself through adobe buildings and a mind of scripture.

It brings him to the center of it all, the only illuminated structure found in the town hall. Standing behind the ley line tower, the three story structure commands authority from its rising, and now defaced edifice. The seven golden bars of the Federated Cities ripped from its mounting above the door and tossed aside, trash strewn in piles from debauchery and sin. 

He sees them; the six human forms hanging from the town hall.

Gutted, squirming, moaning in pain; upside down crucifixion in sadistic torture.

Authority decayed to a point of irreconcilability, the only law now found in the empress of everything.

A watching sentry notices the sole figure on approach, the woman almost jumping in surprise as she raises the alarm. “HE’S HERE! HELP!!!”

Two hands raised in defiance, Alto Carrin placed in gunsights as she levels a familiar assault rifle at the form.

Fingers on triggers, surprised voices echoing through the streets as the young man watches bandits begin to organize themselves in panic. A few slam into one another as they run for cover, several even vying for superior weapons held by fellow comrades; a conflict left unmediated as cracks in desperate discipline begin to widen.

All silenced by the voice.

“Do not move.”

Naro apparates within her group like a wisp from shadows; glowing eyes fading from augmented power. An angular face turns towards the missing divine instrument, a curious glance taken to the human before her.

Powerless, vulnerable.

She glances for threats; augmented eyes scanning rooftops and alleyways to no avail.

Alto gives her the answer. “I just wanted to talk.” 

She lets loose a cold reaction at the notion, a smile pulling on her face in realization. “You approach to talk? A parlay?”

“If you can spare the time.”

She begins to walk towards him, slow steps at the edge of existence. “I can spare the minutes, if required.”

Alto Carrin waits, watching as the woman comes to a stop five feet away.

She smiles, a deception placed in the silence of the world. A finality to her words, burning question placed to the man. “Have you reconsidered? Will you travel with me, and my collective?”

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The man answers her promptly. “No.”

Laughter, uncontrolled emotional state flaring augmentation as a blast of energy is sent wildly. Explosions of power detonating an abandoned building nearby, brick and glass shards embedding themselves into walls as the mage reasserts will over herself. The sound echoes into Old Springs, the woman regaining control of an imperfect, unstable mind.

“Then what topic can be discussed?!” She breathes coldly, a calm tone following in immediacy. “Or have you arrived to lay yourself before me, to beg for your existence?”

“I want to talk.” Alto states again.

The wind howls between them, the woman breathing through mechanical lungs as she attempts to decipher the deception. Seconds passing with a finality to it all, the man beginning with a question. “What city are you from?”

“You are gravely mistaken if you believe I will spare your existence.” She informs coldly. “You will die, if not at this hour then the one after it.”

“Then why not kill me now?” Alto offers from himself.

Naro shuts her eyes, taking a moment to consider her answer. “Such a solution would be too simple Carrin. I have oathed to live my life as I have seen it fit; those who follow me understand it.”

From behind her the six betrayers moan, suffering brought in the distillment of sadistic enjoyment from their slow deaths upon her face.

The human just stares.

She continues. “You have terminated the Auditor of District Fourteen, you understand. Have you not oathed to live your life as you have seen fit, wanderer of this world?”

“Not like this.” Alto informs. “My existence belongs to gods above, and they watch over me just as they watch over you.”

Eyes glow, augmentation burning with rage. A power surge taking over the soul as Naro screams the words. “Armin does not care.”

The name of the sixth god of a forgotten heresy fades away into the cold air, Naro continuing. “The gods do not care for our beings.”

Alto makes his desperate last stand, a religious purpose tipped into the edge of a bullet. “The Five care. For you stand here, you have survived the desert and the huntarus for you.”

The augmented monster raises a calmness with supernatural capacity. “You speak as if you know my tribulation. You do not.” 

Naro raises her hands to grasp the world, a dead expression pulling a single emotion into the her mind. “I will terminate you, Alto Carrin. You have nothing to defeat me with, NOTHING. We will meet under the Five whom care for you as so, and you will die.”

The wind takes the words, bringing untold prayers out into the wastelands and deserts. A desperate plea to gods unanswered, the Gunslinger shuts his eyes as a single sentence decides the fates. “I will see you tomorrow.”

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