The Zombie Knight Saga 119 Cxix. | 'Shadows In Space...'

'Are you sure they're still in there?' Hector asked, not for the first time.

'Yes. They're watching television.'

'You can sense that much detail?'

'The way their souls are positioned together, all looking the same way. That, and if you listen, you can hear it through the wall.'

So he could. Hector took a breath and tried to settle himself again. He scratched his neck. It had been itching like crazy in the same spot for a while now, and the added nuisance of it wasn't doing anything to calm him down. Really, though, it was all the unanswered questions that were bothering him.

The bushes along the side of the house rustled.

Hector and Garovel both looked.

There was nothing there.

He supposed it could've been an animal small enough to be completely concealed by the leaves. But Hector's gaze lingered, and his ears worked overtime, listening for any other noises.

And a noise indeed arrived, this time above. Deep creaks from the roof, slow and repeating.

'Footsteps?' Hector asked.

'I don't sense anyone there,' said Garovel.

Then came a hushed sound, too quiet to make out but distinct in its own way. A breath? A whisper? Or just the wind?

Hector placed his back to the wall and armored up. There was a very good chance he was just being paranoid, but there was no harm in playing it safe.

'Garovel, am I going crazy?'

'No, I don't think so... unless I'm going crazy along with you.'

'That wasn't a rabbit or something in the bushes just now?' Hector asked.

'No, it wasn't,' said Garovel privately. 'Not on the roof, either. Nor in the gra.s.s, right now.'

Hector hadn't even noticed that last one yet, but sure enough, he turned just in time to see a patch of tall gra.s.s by the patio stop shaking.

'The next house over,' said Garovel. 'Hurry. Now the people in that one have the aura, instead.'

Hector launched himself over the stone wall one more time, but before he even landed, Garovel was already amending his statement.

'And now it's gone...'

He kinda figured that might happen. 'The h.e.l.l is going on here, Garovel?'

'I don't know. Just be ready.'

"This is getting boring," came an unfamiliar voice.

Hector looked around but saw no one. 'Garovel?'

'No, there's no--' The reaper cut himself short at the sound of muted whispering.

"No, just do something bigger," said the same voice.

More whispers.

"Oh, what does it matter now? You've hardly been subtle. They clearly know something's going on already. If you're going to play with them, you might as well really play with them."

"But we're not supposed to," came a new voice.

"Ha, look at him!" said still another. "He's so confused!"

Hector's eyes kept telling him that there was no one around, but he was beginning to get the picture. Garovel said it before he could, though.

'They're invisible. Even to me.'

'How?'

'I don't know.'

"Don't worry, metal kid!" came yet another voice. "We're not real! We're all in your head! You're going crazy, see?!"

"Pfft, he'll never buy that now. Use your brain, you b.l.o.o.d.y idiot."

"We're your collective subconsciousness! Arguing with itself! Pure madness, eh?!"

"C'mon, even if you convince him, there's still his partner."

"You're all morons."

Hector tensed up with each new voice that chimed in. Whoever they were, there were a lot of them. His mind raced as he considered his options. If they were really invisible, then his priority was surely locating them somehow. To that end, iron dust might serve. But it would almost certainly antagonize them as well, and he wasn't sure that was necessary just yet. Certainly, if they wanted to harm him, they would've done so without alerting him, right?

"This better not mess up the mission," one of them was saying.

"How could it? If anything, it'll give us less to worry about later."

Hector began slowly slipping one of his gauntlets off. Thankfully, he'd already been holding his s.h.i.+eld, so he used it to conceal his work.

"Idiots. We don't even know who we're dealing with here."

"Yeah we do. Don't you remember?"

"What?"

"Looks like you're the idiot, idiot. Hey, Darksteel! Are you scared yet? Or are you just stupid?"

Hector pulled the rest of the gauntlet off and started on the glove beneath, going a little faster now.

"Oh, you're right," said another new voice. "It is him, huh?"

"How many of us do you think there are, eh? Why don't you have a nice guess. Go on."

Hector decided to take a pa.s.s on that.

"Hey, how much time do we have for this?"

"Plenty. Don't worry."

"Think he'll try to run?"

"Ooh, I hope so!"

"Go on, Darksteel! Make a run for it! You might be able to get away!"

If they wanted someone to be afraid of them, they'd come to the wrong place. By now, he was more than accustomed to being outmatched in a fight, and these a.s.sholes hadn't even proved themselves yet as anyone he should be afraid of. For the moment, however, it was probably better if they held onto that confidence of theirs, so Hector made his arms tremble.

One of them started laughing. "Look, he's shaking!"

Someone else joined in. "He's too scared to move! Aha! This is what happens when you get famous too early, little boy!"

"That's right! You made an awfully big splash over in b.u.mblef.u.c.k, Nowhere. Mighta been fine if you'da killed all your enemies, but ya didn't, did ya? And now it's about to bite you on the a.s.s, 'cuz we all know how weak you are."

"Life lessons for the dead boy."

'These dumb f.u.c.kers are in for a rude surprise,' said Garovel. 'Don't hold back. They're definitely Abolish.'

Hector had gotten that impression as well, though he hadn't been as sure as Garovel sounded. In different circ.u.mstances, he might've asked what made Garovel so certain, but here and now, he was content to just trust his reaper's word and concentrate on the matter at hand.

The only caveat was the presence of civilians. He certainly would've preferred not to fight where innocent people might get hurt, but at the same time, if he tried to lead his opponents away, there was no guarantee that some wouldn't stay behind and slaughter these poor people anyway--which seemed especially likely, given that he was apparently dealing with multiple enemies.

He could try to call Asad, perhaps, but his phone was inside his armor, and if he moved to retrieve it, even these idiots would probably notice.

No, the best option was to simply fight and protect everyone as best he could.

All of these thoughts flashed through Hector's mind in rapid succession, until he ultimately decided to just take the initiative while he still could. He created a thin cloud of dust over the are-tens of thousands of iron flakes, just big enough for his eyes to register specks in the air but also small enough that they would hover like tiny feathers instead of falling like raindrops.

"Hmm?"

"What's this?"

"Oh!"

But they were too slow to realize. Hector had gotten his glimpse. There were many more gaps in the dust than he could count in a single look, some crouched on the adjacent roof, some on the wall between the houses, some sitting in the trees above, but none in the gra.s.s, presumably because it would've revealed their footsteps. Specific numbers weren't important, though. Right now, Hector only cared about general proximity, and by the time they'd begun voicing their surprise, Hector was already slamming an iron fist at the ground.

Cl.u.s.ters of iron pillars shot out at each area, their bladed tips extending forth at arrow-speed, all retaining physical contact with his fist so that he could empower them with his soul.

A few of the pillars struck true. Horizontal geysers of blood appeared among the dust, and a couple of the voices cut off mid-sentence, but the invisibility itself remained unchanged. The victims of Hector's attack were not suddenly revealed in full to him as he'd hoped they'd be.

He could, however, see new movement among the dust--all converging on him.

"He actually intends to fight!"

"Good!"
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"Now we can have some real fun!"

And the first challenger must not have realized that Hector could see him coming, because the fool charged headlong into a gauntleted uppercut, which--from the sound of it--rocketed him right into one of his buddies in the trees.

His next opponents were a bit smarter. The abilities started coming out--strings of explosions, flanked by flames and acid and flaming acid.

It ripped into his armor, but that was the extent of the damage. His barehanded grip on Haqq's s.h.i.+eld held firm as each attack leveled against him felt about as dangerous as a warm breeze. Even the force behind the explosions, detonating at point-blank range, broke against his body like they were nothing more than water balloons.

Through it all, Hector propelled himself upward on a metal platform, out of the smoke and materializing a fresh cloud of iron flakes to help him regain his bearings.

On the rooftop, right there next to him, were four invisible bodies just waiting. He could already see acid spewing out of one of their apparent mouths.

Instead of dodging, however, Hector dove straight into the acid, his free hand reaching for the spitter's apparent mouth. He found it, and immediately, an iron disc exploded out of the invisible servant's head, chopping it clean off. Blood gushed free, but the separated head and body both remained invisible. By the time Hector hit the roof, more ineffectual attacks were slamming into him, and he just concentrated on the iron disc he'd made, adding iron walls to it so that it became a coating for the severed head. He slid down toward his trophy and grabbed it before it rolled off the roof.

That was one less opponent that he had to worry about, but with the amount of s.h.i.+t they were flinging at him now, he figured that there had to be at least a dozen more of these a.s.sholes.

"What the f.u.c.k?! You said he was weak!"

"Idiots! Stop messing around and just kill him!"

And then he heard the deep piping noise of destruction users.

Without waiting to see where they were coming from, Hector launched himself away on an iron pillar.

Explosions chased him, and even though they did little more than tear his clothes, they were becoming a problem due to all the smoke they left behind. If he allowed his vision to become obscured, he really would be fighting blind, because he couldn't rely on Garovel to locate his opponents' souls.

The solution was a platform, he decided. A platform for everything--all around the houses, filling the backyard and rising past the rooftops and nearer the trees above. He aimed to raise himself up along with everyone he couldn't see. He even covered the roofs with iron and raised those sections as well, making sure to attach them to the greater platform horizontally so that they didn't put pressure on any of the houses and cause any cave-ins.

It was tricky work, because he had to do it whilst avoiding the scarcely visible distortions in the air from the multiple destruction users who were ganging up on him, but Hector kept his bearings, and soon enough, the fruits of his labor revealed themselves. A broad plateau of solid iron stretched out before him, pressing among the trees and indeed, crus.h.i.+ng most of the branches in its way. He'd been far more concerned with maintaining precise construction around the civilian homes to bother himself with protecting all the d.a.m.n trees, too.

Most importantly, however, he could hear the constant drum of footsteps rus.h.i.+ng across the iron. He couldn't see any of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, but they were definitely there, and they were already tearing into his work with theirs--explosions, acid, destruction, all cutting into what he'd done.

So he converted the plateau into a bed of spikes, save only where he was running. A half-dozen streams of blood revealed immediate results, and Hector prepared his next move.

A bladed disc was what Hector conceived. It began small in the grip of his free hand, but after one quick spin on his heels, the disc had grown as broad as a coffee table. And it kept growing even after it left his grasp, thrown with all his strength and then some, as he tried to add velocity to each new growth. By the time his invisible opponents began reacting to its approach, the disc was already as wide as a basketball court.

Paths of destruction cut into it, and acid melted down the rest, leaving behind huge trails of smoke. Ultimately, the disc did no damage. It did, however, succeed in pulling their attention away from the iron plateau. And that was all Hector really needed.

He slapped the iron floor, and spikes shot up all around him, each one becoming a tower unto itself. More blood informed him of the results, along with a handful of tree branches shattering on impact with seemingly nothing.

After a moment, he turned his field of spikes to iron dust and charged ahead again, still weathering an almost constant a.s.sault of explosions as he ran.

'You okay, Garovel?' he asked in the meantime.

'Yeah. And you're doing well, but you're never going to get them all. We have to get back to Dunehall and warn everyone.'

'What about the civilians here?'

'Abolish will focus on us. Because they HAVE to. If we make it to Dunehall, then whatever they have planned is f.u.c.ked.'

He grit his teeth but didn't argue. 'Alright.' In an instant, he annihilated his plateau almost completely, save only an iron slide for himself, which then too disintegrated after he'd hit the ground running.

'By the way,' said Garovel, 'I'm getting extremely tired, and I'm probably going to pa.s.s out soon, but don't you let go of that s.h.i.+eld until you're sure we're out of danger.'

Another reason not to drag this fight out, he supposed.