Chapter 1: Sunny Afternoon

It was an unbelievably sunny day in my town. My family and I lived in a small town by the sea, in a large house on a plateau overlooking the main portion of town. Ships came and went on a daily basis, it was life, and it was business. Business, in which, my family had a large part in. My ancestors were rich and left us the estate. They ran a large crime ring in Havani; it generated a lot of money, since then however we’ve cleaned up our act. We just run a small ship carting things to and from various ports across the Empire and Republic. It keeps our life style going and pays for my steam-powered car. The thing’s a wonder, waxed to a reflective shine, fast… but expensive. Ah well, can’t have everything. But I digress. The sun was the brightest it’d been in the summer for as long as I can remember, no matter how close to the seas we were, the sun made it feel like a desert.

“Swee~eeet lord, it’s hot today,” my uncle/father figure hated hot weather, and with a long contemptuous groan made it known at every opportunity, “Primmy, go start up the fans. Put out one of the fire places, open a window, something.” I got up from my relaxed, slouched position in my chair, opened the windows in the den. Out of the corner of the eyes, I noticed him smile a wide and thin smile. I walked out the door and did the same in the lobby, taking great care in opening the skylights. After this chore I made my way upstairs to the study. I put out the strictly ambient fire; as soon as I did, I heard a sound like a gunshot. I ducked down instinctively, my heart racing. As I looked around, I realized it must have been an explosion and not a gunshot. Every single book on the shelves had fallen to the ground. I wanted to call for my uncle, but was scared that the source of the explosion would aim for me next. I heard another sound, and again and again in great haste. The source was a series of gunshots from an automatic weapon of some sort, and following it was a cluster of unintelligible yells. I decided I would go look. As what must have been nothing but a method to calm my mind and give some false reassurance to my situation, I pulled a lamp off of the table and wrapped the cord around my hand, wielding it as a makeshift and cumbersome cudgel.

Walking toward the door, I ducked around the corner after hearing footsteps. Looking toward the door, I saw a barrel move in slowly, smoking and red hot from repeated firing. It was an assault rifle of some sort, the clip made it look like a Maxwell, but it was too wide to be one. I wouldn’t last long in front of it. The owner of the gun, or user at least, walked in slowly. I realized how futile my lamp was, and decided to drop it when I was safe. I ducked behind a book shelf, being sure not to drag my feet on any books. I moved as slowly as the gunman, dressed in a fiery red jacket and a twisted grin. His face was covered in poorly shaven hair and his eyes by yellow goggles. Looking at him was an impressive sight. I’d never seen somebody dressed so elaborately carrying such a fierce weapon. I moved around the bookshelves slowly, listening for where he was as I walked. I reached the door and saw his back.

   Why was I stupid and leaping at him with a knife clutched in my hand?

   I hit, and we fell to the ground as the dagger dug into his side.

   He tried shooting, but my knife found its way to his arm, and he dropped his gun in pain.

   "Run away, and get out of my house. But, please, go see a doctor. I like your jacket."

Cleaning off my knife, I left him there for dead or alive. He couldn't move his arms anyway, so I was safe. I couldn't lift his gun though; it was heavier than anything I felt before. Taking this into consideration, I realized that my family might be in danger. Ignoring his curses and yells at me, I shut the door and started for the den as stealthily as I could. On the way I passed the storage room. It was being inspected by a few men dressed in red as the gunman in the den was. They left their guns by the door, so I figured that I would wrestle them down and stuff them in crates. That didn't work. They disarmed me and stuffed me in a crate instead. Not so bad, actually. It's amazing that a crate moving slowly down the hallway thanks to the efforts of three home invaders doesn't irritate the skin. I was being carried somewhere as a prisoner I suppose. They dropped me, and the lid popped. I abandoned my confines and leapt out foolishly. There were three guns pointed at me. Two of the men holding them were dressed like the one I injured in the study, and the three that brought me here. The third, to my surprise, was dressed in Astran military garb. He was a Gun Knight. The small Renard he was carrying clicked as he pointed it at me to fire. I noticed my uncle dead in the chair I just saw him in and the hole a grenade had made in our wall. I was in the Den. I felt a sickness and terrible chill overcome me. My heart was racing and my stomach twisting.

"You one of the owners of this place? Where's the safe," the Knight asked me. We didn't have a safe, and everything was in the Royal Central Bank Nereid. Wanting to avoid a large scale gun fight in the middle of the main part of town, I was followed at gun point to the lawn. I told them it was in a trap door in the storage shed. We reached the shed, and I looked around. It was a cramped place with rafters and crates of ammunition. I could almost hear the two men in red drooling at the sight. Ammo and guns seemed more important to them than life, liberty, and all the money in the world. I made a quick all-or-nothing plan, either it worked and I lived, or it failed and I died, and then there's the lovely situation where I die being called a lying rich-kid. "What a grizzly situation," I murmured, moving down to push a crate aside. As I noticed the two men behind me look at each other, I scooted into a corner, pushing the crate from behind. I slammed it into the wall, closing my eyes, rupturing a flash bang grenade. I couldn’t hear anything, but I could see that the men were firing blindly at the spot where I was. I pushed back on the wall of the shed, I fell back and bullets grazed my pants leg. I hit the ground, and landed on a nail. I screamed out, the effects of the flash bang must have been wearing off, because I could hear myself. I got up and ran for the ledge over looking the stream at the side of the port.

It was to be a long run, and I was bleeding too. Not just from the nail, now, but from a bullet that I felt skim across my leg. I didn’t stop moving, I just kept weaving my way through buildings until I stopped feeling them whiz past me. I had apparently fled their field of vision, and was close to escaping. The streets were quiet, probably scared to come out thanks to the noise up by our manor. I saw the ledge, and felt the sting of salt water on the wind hitting my wounds. I felt a bullet graze my side as I got to the ledge, at this point my sense of touch and my legs moved in harmony ignoring my brain telling me to wait and look around for a way out. I was falling. Bam. I hit the ground, landing in ankle-deep water. I thought I had lost them. I hopped up to the ledge, and ducked behind a car to see if I was safe. No go, I heard them land behind me, but their guns discharged clumsily. Looking in the rear view mirror, I saw them struggling to pull their machine guns from the soft dirt that broke my fall. I realized this was a bad place and started running into the narrow alleys. If I could see them, they could see me. I avoided windows, and eventually made it to the other side of the port incident free. I ducked into another alley, and moved slowly, trying to make my way out of town.

Survival was no longer my priority. Now it was time for me to escape.

The military man approached the cliff, looking down at his men starting for the alleyways. He leapt down into the stream and got up in one movement barely visible to the naked eye. This was no ordinary soldier. He was no Gun Knight. He walked past the two Ironcrow Bandits, looked at the ground, and smirked. The smirk twisted into a laugh from the depths of his chest. “He’s bleeding. He’s leading us on a chase. He left us a trail. We have to make this look like an arrest. I’m taking you two men into custody.” The bandits displayed great distaste for this decision, and were both shot in the knees. The man standing in front of them was wood and stone. They looked over, and their eyes settled on the man. He was dressed in black ancient armor, highlighted by an unfitting orange that in the natural world meant ‘deadly’, this man was an assassin, passed down from the Phantom Breed of ancient times that clashed in the days of El-Tracass. They blinked and he was gone, they were hit from the front and cuffed. The man was back in Gun Knight uniform. “You two are under arrest under charges of being affiliated with the Ironcrow gang of bandits. Your leader, Primrose, will be found in a matter of moments. Justice will rightfully be served.” He grinned as two more soldiers wove in from a nearby corner. “Stay here. I’ll get him myself.” The Phantom concealed his smoking revolver, and went about his way, carrying an unloaded Renard, following the trail of Primrose’s blood.

Chapter 1- END.

Chapter 2: Chocolate Sundae

I started to feel a warm sensation in my leg, and finally noticed what was sure to be my downfall. I was bleeding, and leaving a trail of blood. I had never crossed over my path, so it was a path straight toward me. I passed familiar structures. Noticing the ice-cream parlor I went to every weekend, my mind focused suddenly on the whereabouts of my aunt. She would be here, and be terrified to see my current state. I wanted her to be spared the sight of her husband’s mutilated form, and my badly injured condition. But thanks to this blood, she was also in immediate danger. I had to lead my pursuers away from this store. I started to retrace my steps, and weave a path without destination or reason through the buildings. When I looked down, I noticed how much blood I had really lost. How long had I been running, I thought, it has to have been at least half an hour, and bleeding the whole time? My mind focused on this as I saw the plateau I came down from. I noticed the two men in red captured by a military official, I thought I was safe. I approached them slowly, my vision slowly starting to blur.

“There he is! Shoot to wound!” one man shouted. They raised their Renards in unison and began to open fire. I took three hits before I realized what was going on. As luck would have it, something I hadn’t noticed before saved my life. When I broke through the wall of the storage shed, a smoke grenade had rolled its way into my pants pocket. A bullet grazed the valve on top, and a cloud of smoke emerged. I gained a sudden boost of adrenaline at this opportunity and ignoring my wounds sprinted into the alleyways heading toward the harbor. That was a mistake. I began feeling light-headed. I was slowly bleeding to death. My legs couldn’t carry me anymore, and I collapsed in an alley with a dumpster. I pulled myself behind it, and leaned against a wall. My breathing slowed. My eyes grew heavy. Before they shut, I saw familiar looking pants stroll in from the right. They stopped, and my eyes were closed. I heard the person say, “You won’t make it like this,” what a way to go, hearing something like that.

But wait. I hadn’t gone. I came to, and the sky was red, nightfall was coming. I didn’t feel pained or light headed. My wounds were bandaged. I looked to the street, and noticed something almost intoxicating; all of the trails of blood were gone. I bolted to my feet, noticing my proximity to the parlor where my aunt was still working. I stood and heard a rattling on the ground. It was a metallic sound, and I looked down. There was a pair of Raptor 50s from Walcom. These were classic guns, a collector’s item. There was ammo in the corner near by. Somebody gave me these as a means to defend myself. I accepted the absent offer and took the guns in my hands, loading them with what ammo what left with me. The rest I put in my pocket after removing the barely fizzling smoke grenade from my pocket. It was still bubbling over with the chemicals that made the smoke, making a low wheezing noise. I sat it on the dumpster, and took aim. I fired one quiet shot. I missed and saw cement fly behind it. I fired again, still no luck. Fearing I’d hit myself with a ricochet. I took one more shot. It hit, and knocked the valve clear off the canister. As I walked away, there was a tiny cloud of smoke in my wake.

I approached the door to the parlor, looking in, my aunt was still cleaning the tables. I sighed a sigh of relief, and grabbed the handle. I saw my hair fly up in front of my eyes, then heard glass shattering. Couldn’t I get a break? A bullet had shot through the window before me, striking my aunt in her temple before my eyes. I felt sick and dropped to my knees as another bullet passed right through where my head just was. The sickness turned to anger, and I sprinted to my feet in the direction of the bullet. My hair flew up again. I saw my target. I was being pursued by a person dressed up like a character from an old comic book, dressed in all black and wearing a mask. He held a smoking revolver. His shots were at a constant pace I soon adjusted to, moving to the left and right almost automatically to dodge. As I pulled out the Raptors so generously given to me, he dropped the revolver. He pulled up a Renard, and loaded it. I realized in my fury that this was the military man from before. Rearing back, he started a steady stream of gun fire in my direction. I noticed myself rising off the ground, and saw him from a different perspective. I was on the wall, my feet kicking me up and carrying me along it. The end of the wall came, and it was my turn to open fire.

One bullet from the left, and I grazed his shoulder but failed to interrupt his firing. One from the right, and there was the ping of a bullet hitting cement. I was in the air now, upside down, bullets whizzing past me, striking me in the legs and arms, undoing my bandages. One more from the left, again I hit cement. Another from the right as I felt my chest penetrated by a bullet. It hit his left shoulder to little effect, rolling off harmlessly. The left once more, and I was right side up again. I now realize everything was moving faster than I could comprehend, but then, it seemed like eternity. I was closer, the bullet from the left hit his arm, and there was a brief interlude between his shots. A bullet hit my left hand and I dropped my pistol. One bullet from my remaining gun, it tore through his Renard and caused a small explosion to rock his arm. He dropped the scrap metal and pulled up a knife, leaping for me. His pass missed, and I twisted midair. I fired twice more, hitting the bottom of his foot as he ran along the wall to come at me again.

I felt a pressure on my back, and twisted again; my feet hit the wall, and propelled me upwards. Looking down I saw the man miss again, digging his knife into the wall. I was upside down, and my head was aligned with his. I shot to kill, but missed. The bullet passed through his arm, causing him to rip the knife from the wall and leap up at me. I fired again, and was horizontal. I missed him completely, and hit the ground. Cement flew up at me along with the man, and I pulled up my legs. I shot at him once more, and missed again. Debris struck my pocket with the ammo, caused a cut, and the clips fell down onto the man. I was down to my last three bullets. I pushed my legs down and volleyed off of his shoulders like an acrobat in a circus. I was upside down again, firing at him as he was sent toward the ground. I hit the knife, and a hole formed in it where my bullet was. His arm was carried down with the knife and slammed into the cement. I fired again, but there was nothing where I aimed.

There was a small red line to my right, looping around behind me. I noticed more. Dammit, he was bleeding, and faster than I thought. Two strong black armored arms wrapped around me, pulling me back with a knife in my stomach. There was no way I was going to survive, but I wasn’t to allow him survival either. With my last bullet, I tore through his hands. He let go of the knife and I fell back. I rolled slightly, and saw him standing, staggering in front of me. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands, you rich liar,” his words were gargled and furious. He started at me slowly. I closed my eyes and opened them. He had stopped, dropping to his knees. There was a ringing sound in my ears. My right arm was shaking. I saw smoke drift in front of my eyes as the man fell onto his face, not moving.

There was a Phantom Cruise N in my hand. The gun he had been shooting at me with had ended his life instead of mine. I felt a strange sickness. I’d just taken a life. Soldiers had to go through with this daily. It was so alien to me though. I took solace in knowing I wouldn’t experience it for long. I looked down at the knife, and saw it sliding out of my abdomen. It was barely an inch long at the blade. My bullet had broken it. The wound wasn’t fatal, but the loss of blood would be. I closed my eyes, and slept. I heard somebody speak before I fell unconscious.

“My son, what have you done?”

A great clamor erupted in the halls of the basilica. Priests dressed in all array of outfits rushed up spiral staircases, to and from rooms, stopping now and then to pray some ancient prayer to clear their minds. The sisters of the church were struggling to restore order. They too began to be drawn upstairs. In a bed, there lay a boy. His black hair hung in his eyes, and the violet highlights on the tips reflected orange in the lighting of the room. He was breathing steadily. “Father, I feel that it would be wise to put this boy elsewhere. He has been all over the radio, why did you bring such an outlaw here?” One priest near the bed seemed concerned. A chapel boy escorted by a nun walked to the bed and applied a damp cloth to his forehead, and said a prayer. She spoke up, “It is our God appointed duty to care for the injured. No matter what sins they have committed, in the eyes of the Lord they can be forgiven!” The priest seemed angered by this rather than subdued. “Then let him be forgiven in the afterlife rather than bring the military crashing down on this church!” The lavishly dressed old man coughed, and spoke up himself. “This boy is a devote. It is our duty to provide him sanctuary. Have you forgotten your ordainment, my son?” The angry priest hushed and apologized. In the parlor, Primrose’s aunt was gone. The floor had been cleaned of blood. There was a chocolate sundae on a stool. There was a note in it, “take care nephew.”

Chapter 2- END.

Chapter 3: Dates with Devils

I felt something warm touch my forehead. For a second I thought I was home. I opened my eyes and looked blankly at an unfamiliar cherry-wood ceiling. I heard a gasp from my right, and turned to face the source. Had my stomach not been burning with pain I would have screamed in surprise. An unfamiliar elderly man dressed in white robes with yellow crosses on them. Next to him was a lavishly dressed man in a wide brimmed hat, and behind him was an equally fancy woman wearing a head dress. Behind her, I saw a young boy holding a cross with a timid look on his face. The old man placed his palm on my forehead, and I felt dizzy. He smiled wide and his face lit up. Aside from the large rings on his fingers, his hand was abnormally warm. The man next to him looked eager to say something, but stopped as I blanked. I tried to sit up, but soon gave up that endeavor.

“Well my son, how are you feeling?” the old one asked me, removing his palm. “Don’t start moving yet, your injuries should have been fatal.” I had no idea who he was or why he called me ‘his son,’ and in my woozy state I asked if he was my father. He chuckled lightly and said no. I was more comforted by this than if he had said yes. I wouldn’t want my dad to be such a strange looking crack pot. “I see that you’re doing well. Brother Marcuss, please stand outside the door and make sure nobody disturbs us. Sister Maria, young Jacobson, you may return to your duties.” As the three left out what sounded like a large wooden door, felt uneasy. I worried what this old coot was going to do to me, and how many times. He walked away from me, and grabbed something off of a shelf. From the sound of it sliding off, it was a large book. He opened it, and recited a prayer. He closed it, and walked back over to put it back where it was. My eyes caught a glimpse of the cross on his hat once more, and I finally put two and two together.

“I’m in a church?” I asked weakly. The man chuckled again and sat down beside me. “Yes, my son. My name is Father Pierre. We found you and the dead soldier last night.” He was blunt and straight forward with his speech, which also comforted me in a strange way. He parted my hair in a strange way, saying it made me look like Father Marcuss. He laughed and shook his hand on my hair to return it to its normally wild position. “Do you know why we had to take you here?” I shook my head. “Well first, tell me who you are. It will make things easier.” I pondered telling him fabulous lies of being a pirate from across the sea, or the second coming of some God, but decided honesty would serve me better in this place. I explained to him how I was a family stock-boy, putting ammunition onto our ship and making sure it didn’t shift in the holds. I explained who my family was, and who I was. He let out a strange and long sigh, and said, “I understand now. Let me explain your situation to you, my son,” he began to speak after clearing his throat, “You see, the soldier you killed was a man of wicked sin. He hired bandits from IronCrow to attack your home, and steal everything of value. After, he would have sent them to prison. Since you escaped, he pursued you. Placing you in the same group as the bandits due to your family history, he had an excuse to kill you before his plan was revealed, and since you killed a high-ranking military assassin, the Empire too regards you as an outlaw. They would have found out his plan had he killed you,” he faltered and cleared his throat again, “But... Then you would be dead. You see my son, the IronCrow bandits are highly skilled and very dangerous gun fighters. It is conceivable to believe that one in command of such gun fighters would be able to kill an assassin of the Empire, so now his story is being regarded as the gospel. Your aunt and uncle aren’t around to disprove it, and their deaths are likely being held as evidence as being part of a shoot-out with military Knights to further prove your guilt.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I was attacked, and now was a felon in the eyes of the strongest military force on the planet. My own hometown would be seeking to turn me in. The man interrupted my train of thought. “However,” he started, “This church is part of the Republic. Though located in the Empire, Travia administrates it. We took you in as a part of our holy duty, and will for as long as it takes you to recover safely. If the military finds out of your whereabouts, the church will be attacked. Travia will seek instant retaliation. As you know the two nations have been barely peaceful for some time now. So in short, because you remain here, we are risking starting a war between the two nations once more.” I was confused and scared now. I also realized I owed a great debt to this church and to Travia as well. I asked him what I could do.

“You have two options,” he stated. He grabbed another book and opened it. “You can attempt to reach Travia alone, or you can turn yourself in. They both have their ups and downs. Trying for Travia will be difficult, as the border is likely very heavily guarded to prevent you from getting back to Havani. As an IronCrow, that would be the first place you would head to. Stay away from Havani at all costs, my son,” I looked around, and noticed my strength returning rapidly. One thing that bewildered me as much as my current condition was why my comprehension was so high, considering the fatal wounds I received. I was able to sit up, and noticed his left hand. It was holding a round brown device with a red cross and several red lines wrapping around it. It was glowing for a little bit, then died down. The man, a head priest I guess, must have noticed me look at it, and explained it thusly: “Ah, my son, I see you are curious. That is a Priest Issued Medical Kit. Where most kits involve science of some means, this imbues holy energies into the body, and heals flesh wounds as best as God can. Look, your wounds should be healing.” He smiled a wide and closed eyes smile as I held up my left hand. The bullet wound was glowing a bright red, and I could feel it closing rapidly as I focused on it. I was speechless over it, and asked about what would happen if I turned myself in.

“You’d be shot on sight, of course. That, or thrown in prison, forced to fight lions bare handed in the Imperial Battle Arena for a crowd of aristocrats and royals. Why, the Baron might even be there, laughing his haughty ass off,” he scoffed at the mention of the Crown Prince of Baron. “Just don’t get in the way of Ramitz, whatever you do, my son. His powers are a sin against God and man kind.” He walked away and put the book away as I sat up. “You can make your decision now or later. Whenever you feel like it.” I wouldn’t have the option of ‘later’, as the Empire soon made clear. Father Marcuss marched in, pointing at me for two Axium Gun Knights. “There he is! You see? There’s no need to destroy this sanctuary! You see? You can take him away with no violence needed!” They pointed rifles I recognized as Nico R7 rifles. I’d get tore up if I disobeyed. They ordered me to my feet. I made my way over to them, scared but sure of my future. As I walked down the chapel halls, sisters of the church prayed for my safety as I passed. The large gates of the church swung open. Nobody was outside. It was a dark day, fog and rain. Street lights were struggling to pierce the darkness. I was surprised to find only two cars outside to greet me. The guards led me to the backseat of a rather bulletproof looking white car. It didn’t seem to be steam powered. The door opened. I saw two men dressed in gray uniforms sitting down, one got out of the car, and I was ordered to sit between them.

I got into the car without second thought, saying goodbye to freedom. As I looked across from me, I saw a man who sent chills down my spine. He wore a red cloak with iron crosses all about it and had jagged silver hair. His eyes were like razors, and he had an aura of blackness behind him. There were chains wrapped around his hands. He sat directly in front of me, also in between two grey dressed men. The Knights outside saluted as the car drove away from them, and the man in red scoffed. Instinctively, I spoke up. “Why did they salute me?” My pupils went dilated and I tasted blood in my mouth. The man across from me had just kicked me in the gut with his incredibly heavy boot. The men in grey did not flinch or stop looking straight ahead. “They were saluting me, felon. I am Ramitz, master magician and personal aid to the Crown Prince of Baron. Do you know what you have done?” I nodded. “That’s right; you murdered a member of the Phantom Breed. A young one. Do you know what those people are capable of?” I shook my head. “Believe me, becoming a gladiator will be much better. All you have to do... Is entertain me, and my partner the Baron,” he laughed in a superiority complex styled manner. I dare not question him. “I simply want to see lions tear you limb from limb. Can’t you grant me that simple pleasure after you did the same to one of my greatest assassins?” He handed me three photos. I felt vomit behind the blood in my throat. The man I had killed had been mutilated beyond recognition of being human. No, I hadn’t done this. I simply shot him through the heart. His limbs were stretched and twisted, severed from his body. His very structure was collapsed on itself. There seemed to be more blood than a human was capable of containing.

Ramitz was smiling.

The men in grey were smiling.

Ramitz began to laugh. It was him that did this. Would anybody dare question his word? His psychotic, unquestionable word? No, and after seeing this, I feared death for the first time. Either he or the lions did this to me, and fearing for the sparse chance I possessed a soul, I chose the lions. We arrived not at a prison, but a mansion. He blind folded me, and I was escorted on a long walk. I could see Ramitz through the blindfold as if I wasn’t wearing it. He wanted me to see him. The blindfold was removed as I was sitting in a chair in a completely white room with a single window looking out into the court yard. He knelt down in front of me, putting his hands under his chin, grinning. I noticed for the first time that his eyes were yellow, and the chains on his hands were at least six feet long. He began questioning me. “Now then . . . Your name is Primrose Sanctimonious, correct?” I nodded. “What an insult to all that is holy. Your name is Primrose Delugious. You are scum and should be called so. Next order of business . . . How did you kill him?” I looked him straight in the eyes. “I killed him in self defense. It was not my intention–“I saw his hand suddenly wrapped in flames. He punched me hard across the face. I barely retained consciousness as I felt my skin burned and bruised at once. I began to see through his game, just slightly. “Out of cold blood, for his family’s money,” I said. He smiled and sat back, his hand returning to normal. “And how did you kill him out of cold blood? He was a trained assassin.” I answered. “I am an IronCrow gang lord.” He scowled. “I think there’s more to it than that. Just being one wouldn’t make him drop dead.” His hand became wrapped in a light blue color, I saw it frost over before I was punched again. I almost fell to the ground. I tried turning my head, but it was numb. My face had been frozen on the right side. It thawed slowly. “What means did you use?” I looked at his hand, and defiantly spoke up, “Magic.” I saw him smile. “That’s right. The kind of cruel, wicked sorcery that causes one’s hands to be wrapped in fire and ice, allowing the evil man to twist his enemy’s body into some sin against nature.”

I saw his chains wrapped in a sickly purple glow. They seemed to fade in and out of existence like the sound on a radio with bad reception. He stood up and extended his arm. His palm turned skyward, and I rose slightly off the ground. I couldn’t move and noticed myself wrapped in the same glow. Small lacerations on my skin and clothing opened and closed hundreds of times a second. He reared back and punched me with the full brunt of his force. I noticed his image and the chair’s get smaller until I felt a crack in my spine and saw rubble fly up in front of me. He just punched me into the wall with a single punch. I figured I flew a good 12 feet before he spoke up. “Tomorrow you will wake up in the barracks of the arena. It will be packed. Your friends, enemies, people who know you only as a murderer, will all be there. They want to see a monster die. They will get what they desire. The Baron will be there, and I will be there beside him. Beside us will be several Gun Knights armed with our nation’s finest weaponry. You see, you will die tomorrow.” I spat in his general direction and passed out. I could feel him punching me still even unconscious. I dreamt of the initial attack that got me here, the assassin and my battle with him, the church, and Ramitz. There is no way that power could be human. I wanted to find out where he got it if nothing else. In my sleeping, beaten state, I decided as soon as I woke up, I would escape.

The seas were calm. The wind was brisk. The massive galleon bearing crossbones on its sails drifted slowly toward shore. A large man dressed in black and wearing a captain’s hat approached the bow. “Thar’s to be en execution of a Phantom-killar tomorrah?” A scrawny man dressed in rags confirmed the captain’s question as being true. “Bless mah soul, I nevar thought I’d see tha day somebodeh capable of somethin’ like that t’would be so easy for tha Empire to capture.” Laughter erupted throughout the ship. Men dressed in orange and black, wearing masks clung to the sides of the ship silently. The captain approached the helmsman. “We’re bustin’ that unfort’nate land lubber out of tha arena, aye?” The helmsman nodded and turned the ship slightly. One man on the side sent a note to another. It read: “We’ll kill the murderer first. Anybody that tries to interfere, be it lion or Eternal Blue Pirate or even Ramitz himself, will die by our steel.” The captain glanced at the seven Phantom Breeds on the side of his ship. He scoffed and the other sailors soon noticed too. “Aye, ah see em. We’ll keel ‘em too. Phantom bastahds.” One assassin towards the bottom of the boat suggested that they kill the pirates then and there. He was promptly shoved off the side of the boat by one of his elders, clenching a note that read: “Do not make suggestions.” The rest nodded. It was to be that the next day there was to be a great riot. A clash of four opposing forces, and one of the bloodiest days in the history of the Empire.

Chapter 3- END.

Chapter 4: Put on a Show

I woke up as Ramitz said, in a barracks. I heard people clamoring outside. I heard the growl of hungry lions. I saw other prisoners beside me. “You guys gonna get ate up too?” They laughed and one man said calmly, “We’re Blue Whistles, we get shot in front of a wall.” I was shocked to be talking to a Blue Whistle. These people caused nothing but headaches to the Empire, anarchists and bandits the whole lot of them. They didn’t seem like the greatest people, considering they cheered for me when I told them I had spat at Ramitz and killed an Imperial Assassin from Phantom Breed. There was a loud crash, as the door was unbolted. A Gun Knight walked in and the men next to me booed and jeered at him. He threatened to shoot a woman who spat at him. He ordered me to my feet. I rose, and I was frankly getting tired of being ordered to my feet so much. Did they all have to say the same thing each time? “On your feet, NOW!” It was so hollow and obnoxious. As I walked out, chained up, the group in the barracks chanted my name as if I was Sparticus.

Door after door was opened to me. There was a cheer in the crowd as I came out. I was chained to a massive pillar in the center of the sandy arena, covered in arrows and shields from ancient battles. I squinted in the sunlight as it beat down on me like a hammer. The Knight met another and they proceeded to a massive gate. They opened it and I saw a massive lion emerge. It had to be the size of a horse, at least. It snarled at me as the guards retreated into the barracks. I saw Ramitz above the lions, and a stocky muscular man wearing a lavish military outfit. This must have been Duke. Above them, there was a wooden canopy to block the sun. On that, I saw an oddly dressed man with a large gun. He began aiming as the lion approached me. I heard four pings one after the other, and noticed the chains breaking. There were four bullets on the ground near me. The beast started a run at me, I tugged on the chains and broke free, running to the side. I looked back and saw it crash into the pillar, breaking it in half down the middle. It roared in agonizing fury.

Ramitz stood up in amazement. Duke, next to him, was laughing hard and insanely. The man on the canopy was gone now. I realized I had to fight, and looked around blindly as the audience cheered. I was on the far left of the arena, the beast circling me slowly, surely. I noticed Ramitz sit back down and fold his arms in his lap, looking around unamused. Dammit, I thought, I do not want to see what he would do to me. My foot brushed against something. I grabbed it, and as the beast charged me, I leapt to the right, and stabbed it in as deep as I could. There were arrows everywhere, and I had just found their function. The crowd gasped as I backed away from the snarling monstrosity of an animal. I shuffled back a ways, and as it started to me, kicked a shield from the ground up into my hands. I rolled into the sun, and angled the shield perfectly, blinding the beast, even momentarily. Enough time to take another shield near by and throw it like a discus into its face. I badly wounded one eye, its depth perception would be off now. The only problem was how brutally angry this beast was. I was hit from behind as I noticed Baron laughing more than before, like a mad man. I heard snarling and felt a sharp pain on my leg. I landed in an opportune spot however.

Grabbing two arrows from the sand near me, I blinded the second, equally large lion beast. It tore its teeth from my leg, harmlessly leaving lacerations. It bucked back into the air. Seeing a shadow behind me, I rolled to the nearest shield I could find. The two animals hit and went flying, snarling towards the walls. People in the crowd moved away from the spot and cheered wildly. Ramitz himself was standing and applauding in his box seat. The Baron . . . was still laughing. The blinded lion pawed at its face, snarling. It leapt up into the crowd seats, flailing madly, as the one with a working eye started for me. The military nearby shot and killed the blinded beast, leaving me with one ferocious cat to deal with. As if by instinct from my last life or death battle, I reached for a gun at my side but had nothing. I saw a glint in the crowd, and saw the beast trip and begin to skid. I saw the same faint red line flowing past my vision, on several sides. The beast had a dozen or so cuts in it. It skidded toward me, and was dead. After I saw the lines, I ducked hard and fast. At least six swords lunged over my head. The crowd was beginning to settle again for this spectacle. I saw black and orange blurs everywhere around me. I picked up two shields, and tried relaxing. That incredibly lucky first dodge that inspired gasps of awe had made the assailants think more of me than I was.

I saw the reflection of something coming at me off of what must have been a passing blade. I reached back with one shield and deflected the blow. The attacker was moving too fast. As his blade hit the shield, he lifted off the grounds and tumbled into the dirt, his blade flying far away from him. I didn’t like it, but I had to kill him before his intense speed granted him the joy of having his blade again. I grabbed an arrow and ran, narrowly avoiding a blade whizzing by me. I heard somebody trip and fall behind me. I stopped in a skid, seeing a blade sever my hair that was too slow to stop with me. I twisted into the air, feeling wind whizzing past me from angry, passing blades. I curled up in the air and uncurled, shooting myself at the man who had tripped. Time was doing that thing again. Everything seemed to take so long despite how fast it was really going. I lunged into the man, pushing the arrow through his neck with a scream that made the Duke jump in his seat. There was no way I could be moving like this. I let go and spun around midair, blocking at least three strikes of swords. On my third spin, I grabbed my victim’s blade and swung in the direction of the last block. I hit, and I saw an arm with a clenched fist holding a sword go flying. The defiant hand let go and the sword fell into the back of its owner, now stumbling away from me. Maybe they hadn’t underestimated me.

Two of the men were now dead. There had to be six of them in total. I was using the sword of one, and wildly blocking the clashes of blades with both shields. I hadn’t been injured by these men once. Still the blades flew at me as I ripped the sword from the man’s back. As I saw his armor, I knew he was like the man I had killed that got myself here in the first place; an assassin. I was digging myself deeper and deeper, with each limb I flayed off of my attackers. Each bitter life I took stabbed me hauntingly deep in what must be the soul. But I kept on fighting. It was down to two now, and one stopped moving before me. I saw him rear back his blade and I charged. I saw a pale glow come from it. I reared back to swing. He forced himself backwards, and his blade was glowing white. He pulled back and released a ferocious attack. Yellow light shot out all around me, and my entire body felt like it had been cut at once. I noticed a large gash form on my chest. It wasn’t deep, but was stretching across the full length of my body. I forced my sword at him and he deflected it with his blade. I saw it glow again and heard a loud hum ring through the air as my blade vibrated from the impact. He pulled away, and cut me again. My body felt the same slashed everywhere sting as the first time, and there was that same yellow light. This time the cut was horizontal. There was a bloody cross on my body now. He scornfully looked at me. “Die, church boy.” I noticed Ramitz. He was poised, focused, and tense. I became the same, and my arm flew up towards the blade in a defiant palm.

As I smacked his stab away like a Havani prostitute lord smacking one of his women late on a payment, he fell to the side. I reached back, and punched him hard in the face. Harder than I could punch. The shield on my leading hand cracked the assassin’s mask in half. He screamed at me, “You should just die!” I saw a swarm of thin red lines erupt through the air. There was a blur in the center of it. The man in front of me fell onto me, dead. The last moving blur came to a halt midair. He was in the same uniform, but his mask was demonic. “Young men should not make suggestions to their superiors.” His hand was outstretched, and I saw something flying at me. I saw a streak of black in the corner of my eyes as what must have been a grenade flew at me. I hid behind a shield nearby as the man slashed it midair, detonating it. He rolled another behind the shield, I rolled it back, and it blew up near the crowd. This one was a freak. He didn’t like slashing and stabbing people to death, he liked to blow them to kingdom come. I evaded a third and fourth, throwing the fifth defiantly at Ramitz and Baron. It exploded before it got close, to this Baron just laughed. Bastard.

I tried to dodge a sixth, but was badly burned. The shields shattered, and shrapnel dug itself into my arms. They were limp and slightly numb. I was standing there, burned and bleeding, sweating like a dog. The crowd was a bunch of glass eyed children in grown up bodies, staring content at anything no matter how dangerous it was to them. As I looked around I felt a grenade hit me in the head, but it carelessly had the pin still inside. I fumbled with it midair and caught it. I pulled the pin and cooked it cautiously circling the last assassin. I threw it as I felt a churning inside it, leapt back, picked up a shield and slug it far ahead and fast. The grenade blew up just behind it. The shield was acting as a sail until the edges chipped off and broke. The brunt of the blow struck the man’s chest, he was sent back but was gone. The shield crashed into an audience stand. The gaggle of onlookers just cheered boorishly and moved away slightly. A few pieces of shield pinged around here and there. I looked around for my attacker, turning back in the direction of Ramitz I had been facing the entire time, I saw a flash-bang go level with my eyes. I piece of the shield knocked the trigger mechanism cleanly. I was dealing with a professional, and was now blind, deaf, and likely soon to die. I still had the sword in my hand from the last man, and I swung around blindly.

I felt a blade at my back, and the ringing in my ears slowly, ever so slowly, subsided. I heard the final mutterings of a sentence about revenge for forefathers and ways of life. Sword went through me, not from the front, but back. He had led his blade into the cross shaped wound I had received. One stab, all the way through, I cut in front of me and cut down the air. I felt another stab from behind, through the same wound, opening it farther. My hearing was back and I heard myself scream unintentionally. This was a sad way to die, but I didn’t have much to live for. I looked around, feeling his blade slowly moving out. I saw the canopy again. The same man was back, with the same huge gun. He was aiming right at me, and motioned with the barrel for me to move. The audience was focused on the swordsman behind me. I heard the click of a grenade as he yanked out his blade. Good for him, I thought scornfully, he was gonna die in a 3-part attack. I found the wound feeling the blood run down my body, and carefully, surely, swiftly shoved my own blade inside. The hand-guard was against my abdomen, and the swordsman behind me was cut more fatally than I. I pulled it out, and stabbed again. With my adrenaline fueled attack, I cut him across the arm, he dropped his sword. I fell out of the way and rolled, coughing up blood and watching him squirm. He started to roll the grenade for me.

One turn. Two turns. It was closer now, three turns. Four turns. I didn’t know what was going on at the time, and the grenade entertained me and kept my mind off my wounds. My source of entertainment was gone as the audience was brought to the edge of their seats. The grenade had been in the middle of the two of us before it was suddenly gone. There was sand raining down on me now. I looked over to where the man with the gun was. He shot just below the frag and sent it into the air. He shot again, and it detonated just above the assassin on the ground. His next three shots found their way into his thick, ancient armor. Another man near him, fired a rocket-propelled grenade of some kind. I thought those weapons were illegal in the Empire. There was nothing left of the man as I felt somebody land next to me. The sound of rifles firing rang loud and clear all throughout the stadium, and the military Gun Knights had finally ordered an evacuation of the event. There were darkly dressed men and women all throughout the arena now. They all had three-sided hats on bearing a crossbones symbol. There was a medical kit healing through my wounds again. I felt the skin scar over, and heard a gruff voice. “Garr. Tae deep ta be fully healed, yeh’ll haf a niftae scar thou.” He had a terrible master of the Common Language, heavily accented. I was glad to be able to stand again though, and take it all in as I ran with men who smelled like sea-water to a grand door.

Ramitz got off of his platform overlooking the arena. A knight spoke up to him. “Your divinity, shall the aid of my battalion please you?” He shook his head and scoffed. “I’m just going to the arena port. Take your men and make sure that those Eternal Blue sea dogs all die.” The soldier staved his rifle in salute, and started to open fire as an Eternal Blue pulled his way up to the box seat. Ramitz didn’t turn. The pirate lashed the Knights’ rifles in two, and twittered drunkenly. It still didn’t grab Ramitz’s attention. He started down the stairs, the Baron behind him. “Just surrender,” he scoffed as he hit the second to last stair, “You aren’t taking the boy out of here alive.” The pirate ignored the Knights and with a hearty “Yarrgh!” leapt with his cutlass at Ramitz. He whipped around, grabbed the man by the sharp end of his blade. He shattered it with his bare hands. The dazed drunk tried to land a kick on Ramitz’s mid-section. Ramitz grabbed the man’s foot in his other hand, and flipped him onto his back. The broken sword was then driven into his chest. He turned coldly and started through the door after Baron who had long since departed. The magician saw him gathered with soldiers, cheering heartily as the Knights fired wildly. Ramitz walked past them, scoffing in a frown and saying cold and monotonously, “They will escape. They will not live.” Bitterly, he continued on, through the winding barracks, to where the boy and the pirates would surely be going next.

Chapter 4- END.

Chapter 5: Storm

I followed them through the wooden corridors, ducking down behind walls and sculptures whenever Knights pursued us. I heard the shotguns and blades of the pirates clashing with the Knights, and I never saw one of my group fall. We were apparently running toward a port where their ship was docked, likely being attacked by Knights as well. They instructed me to stay safe, and not get hit. Bullets always came close to hitting me, but the corsairs were incredibly fast. They put their swords in front of bullets and batted them away. No matter how fast the Knights’ Maxwell LX44s were, the swords were faster. Bullets were blocked sometimes ten at a time, and pushed back into the Knights. We mowed through at least thirty men before they began to retreat. I saw priests dressed in black hurrying to give aid to the men, they weren’t the same as the ones from the Republic church. They were armed, and fired at some of the men with demonic accuracy while giving aid to the injured. Women in our ranks gave aid to the injured men, ignoring their own injuries. Grenades and rockets were launched at the priests until there was little to nothing left. A man next to me advised, “Howld yahr heed ahp, yah doont wan’ta looket thaht.”

We ran past the battle scene with the priests, through a final large gate. I tasted the wind from the sea, and saw a massive gun fight about the ship. The sails were rolled to the top, and there were men with rocket launchers in the cannon nests. They were fending off an onslaught of Knights. A woman in the crow’s nest signaled for us to move, and a rope was lowered. The pirates insisted I go on first while the captain made his way to the ship. From the semi-safety of the sea, in the cabin, I watched the battle. I felt the boat shake when a rocket was fired, and watched the window shake when they detonated. I saw a group of Knights start advancing on the ship from a flanking position. I ducked down, as they were in a bee line with my viewing point. I stayed low, still watching. They were attempting to board the ship, I saw a rope fly up to the window. It was gutsy move, but I figured it was worth the risk. I punched out the window, grabbed the hook of the grappling tool used to latch on, and threw it down into the shoulder of one of the Knights below. I was back in before they could aim. Bullets hit the rest of the glass, I hid under the desk in the room. The gunfire continued, but now stopped hitting the ship. I looked out to see what was being aimed at.

A man in a shining trench-coat was dancing about gracefully with two swords. His jacket was dark, but different. He wasn’t a pirate. He was leaping about and somehow forcing himself through the air in bursts of speed using his swords as some kind of propulsion means. They looked like flapping wings of death as they cut into each Knight. His hat was billowing at the brim, but stayed in front of his eyes regardless. As he cut through a third and fourth soldier at the neck, he sheathed one of his swords in his jacket and pulled out a revolver that shined silver in the sun. He fired with accuracy that matched that of the priests we had met, the ones who shot even beyond the lightning fast blades of the pirates. He cut through all the bullets that came at him, and returned with the explosive power of his revolver. The bullets tore through the Knights, causing holes larger than a fist to explode out of their bodies. What his bullets didn’t kill, his sword finished off. A Knight came up behind him with a knife in his hand. The wild fighter sheathed his other sword and pulled a shotgun from his jacket, whipping around and firing into the chest of his attacker. He flew back into the hull of the ship, rocking it slightly.

This was the second time I saw knights retreat. Priests didn’t follow this time. I had completely not noticed the captain walk into the room behind me while watching this spectacle. “Yarr… Tezko Tetsu. Aye reckon he be one of tha truest fightars that evar graced the hawls ahf Gunner’s Heaven.” He startled me when he spoke up. “Yeah, he’s really something… more skilled than those Phantom people.” The captain laughed. “Phantom Breeds ahre nothin’ tah us. Thay relay on stealthy movements.” I was surprised he could pronounce proper nouns so well. I began questioning whether his accent was forced. He was an impressive man regardless of his speech, his torn, hook laden jacket was blacker than night, its profound darkness almost hurt my eyes. The ornate patterns on it danced about in a still pattern that seemed to move, and his billowing shirt half-revealed an incredibly strong figure. His face was chiseled and rugged scars on his cheeks and chin every few inches. His eyes were hard and cold, he had wild dark hair that was at least as long as a woman’s. I dare not mention this for fear of him simply bumping into me and killing me with his jacket.

The soldiers were gone when the seas suddenly churned and subsided. Tezko turned to the pirates still remaining, they promptly boarded the ship. They were on the deck like crows on a power line, staring at him and gawking back and forth. The captain patted me on the shoulder, and gave me a quick congratulations for helping prevent a boarding. Tezko nodded at the captain, and it was apparently clear to sail out. As he ended his nod, a door crashed open behind him. He snapped around. The captain gasped, and slammed on the ceiling for the crew to start preparing the ship for take off, and focus on that alone. Ramitz. He stood in the door way with fists open like the claws of a hawk. Clearly visible dancing black and angry shadows twisted behind him. Tezko ran at him, putting his shotgun back into his coat. He pulled out his other sword and drew them up to his face. I screamed out the window. “Kill him Mr. Tetsu!!”

The captain grabbed me away from the window like a child. I heard an incredibly loud crash and felt my insides slammed against each other. I insisted on running up to the dock. The captain tried chasing me down, but I leapt up onto the mast to get a better look as I heard a sail unfurled behind me. “Whet the hawl air yah doin?!” I answered, not taking my eyes off of the smoke at the dock. “I want to see this. I have to be exposed to the worst eventually, Ramitz would come after me. I guess it’s preparation?” He grunted and began tying down tethers to support the sails. I heard a crack shoot through the air. It cleared the smoke instantly, and caused sparks to shoot across the water. All of the dust on everything nearby billowed up. Ramitz had his hand outstretched, one of his chains held tightly in Tezko’s hand. His swords were broken, and electricity was flowing into his arm from the chain. The shadow behind Ramitz had four clearly visible red eyes, and his hand was glowing light blue.

Both men were struggling for the chain, Tezko drew a revolver and aimed at Ramitz’s head. I saw Ramitz draw a long red shotgun from his sleeve. He briefly glowed the sickly purple, and his chains faded through Tezko’s hand. He took this opportunity to fire twice at Ramitz. He raised his hand and caught both bullets between his fingers. He leapt back as Tezko fired at his knees. His arm slashed at the air, slinging both bullets at Tezko. He rolled to the side, shooting again as he did. Ramitz dropped to the ground in an instant, and charged at Tezko as if his shotgun was a sword. His chains flew behind him like a pair of scarves. Tezko drew a second revolver, and began firing Akimbo* style. Ramitz kept catching bullets and slinging them back, Tezko fired and intercepted each midair with a small explosion. Ramitz allowed a purple glow onto his shotgun as he drew near and floated off his feet into a lunge. Another loud crack in the air, and Ramitz swung his shotgun wildly at Tezko.

He fired in the middle of his arc, and Tezko rolled to avoid, 12 bullet holes formed extremely close together in his jacket. He lunged into Ramitz low and fast, firing his revolvers, reloading with a flowing movement of his fingers rapidly and smoothly. Ramitz used his chain to catch at least twelve bullets, spinning to face his back to Tezko. Another crack as Tezko leapt into the air, 12 more bullet holes appearing in a straight line across his jacket. Ramitz pulsated with light blue energy briefly, the clouds above pulsated the same color, and instantly a wicked pillar of lightning shot into him for at least three seconds. The men on the ship trying desperately to pull up the anchor were electrocuted to unconsciousness, perhaps even death. Ramitz lifted slowly, then leaned forward, the lightning broke with a shockwave. Tezko was shot back, and saw Ramitz flying at him, chains and jacket flapping in the wind maliciously.

He shot up with his shotgun at nothing, and rocketed into the ground. Shooting into the sea, he skidded along the ground and narrowly avoided Ramitz swinging his shotgun in for another shot. Cement flew up in blocks as it missed. He hit these with his feet and flipped himself into the air. They were hit with the chains, and large sharp pieces were broken off and lodged into the chains. Ramitz felt bullets skim past him, and twisted midair. One of his chains almost hit the ship, blowing four or five pirates onto their backsides. He hurled his left chain at Tezko, shooting the cement arrows at him. Tezko shot them all out of the sky into rubble. With the right chain, Ramitz shot with his shotgun again. Tezko did his sliding trick, shooting out the door behind him. He pulled a revolver out and alternated between firing his shotgun at Ramitz, dodging Ramitz’s own shots, and firing his revolvers.

Neither of them had been injured yet. Ramitz was getting impatient. He jumped up and somehow tore through the air, flying at his enemy. Tezko stood shooting, doing his reloading trick when the time came. Ramitz was swinging his shotgun like a sword in vicious combinations, firing at each swing. His shells demolished everything they hit with ferocious force, he was slowly tearing apart the port. Effortlessly, his calm and collective opponent danced side to side in evasion, firing every time he saw the whites of Ramitz’s eyes. There was fury in the voice of Ramitz when he screamed and made a stabbing motion with his shotgun, shooting straight for Tezko. He ducked, punching with a revolver, its barrel stuck dead clear into Ramitz’s gun. He pulled the trigger. Both of their weapons were demolished. Ramitz had a charred burn on his jacket now. They stood, staring at each other for a moment, Tezko trying to ignore his now bloody arm. I turned to check on the anchor. The last men on the deck were myself, the helmsman, and the captain. The rest had fled into the holds and cabin. I made a mad dash to the anchor. The captain kept an eagle’s watch on the situation, his hands itchy for his riotguns.

I started tugging up the heavy iron anchor to no avail. The helmsman joined me and we began to pull it up slowly. I heard a loud crack and felt dizzy. My partner in pulling was out cold. His hands were wet. Sparks were running through the water again. I looked back at the Captain, he was in a stance ready to move. Ramitz called lightning down from the heavens in rapid succession, each time striking Tezko just barely. He never stopped firing. There was a sudden look of desperation on his face that soon melted back into calmness. Ramitz snapped into a sudden and unpredictable sprint at Tezko. His hands glowed a deep blue and frosted over. They then fully iced. He swung hard. He struck his target, and Tezko’s left side was frozen over. Ramitz followed with an uppercut with his left. Tezko was froze from his jaw down to his legs. He was punched in rapid succession, chin to chest. The ice thickened. I was pulling with my back to the edge of the ship, lugging the anchor’s chain over my shoulder. The captain was clenching the handles of his riotguns tightly.

Ramitz cast away the glow on his hands, calling back the light blue one. I held onto the anchor and braced myself. The crack rang again and my body burned. Sparks were shooting through the water, and through the ice on Tezko’s body as Ramitz punched him with both hands in the chest. He must have been in agony. I struggled with the anchor against the electricity and saw steam on the ice covering him. He started to shift. Ramitz pulled his hands away and punches twice, kicking him hard in a roundhouse, sending him sliding back. He jumped into the air high above Tezko, ready to come crashing down. There was a different crack now, as electricity pulsed into my body. I couldn’t retain consciousness, and noticed the captain easing down again. I gave out and felt the heavy chain land on my back as I fell. I twitched and groaned, feeling electricity in the air and in my body. I had a live wire baking itself into me. I heard a gun shot, and passed out.

The broken chain sank into the sea, the captain walking slowly to the helm. One of his riotguns was clutched in his right hand. He dropped it, and with a sigh said he wished his ship understood comradery. Ramitz was rising slowly into the air over Tezko, rather than descending. He had a swarm of at least 24 bullets being held back in his fist, propelling him into the sky. Tezko’s arm was straight into the sky, holding a smoking shotgun. How, Ramitz though, how had he done that? He drifted to the side as the ship pulled away, letting the bullets soar straight up. He stepped back and left his coat to dangle in the ice. “Khaotic Fighting,” the captain muttered, “I thought it was extinct. I should be the last practitioner.” His speech was unbelievably clear. He took to the helm and the ship gained speed. Ramitz was spaced out, as was Tezko. Ramitz drifted to the ground, his back facing the cement. Tezko came to as he saw the shadow behind Ramitz catch him. He felt its four red eyes focus on his. He heard a voice in the back of his head. “You have taught him much this day. Ramitz will kill you and the boy. For now, let me take your soul.” Ramitz became wrapped in blue and black flames. The shadow moved along with his body, charging at Tezko. As an explosion rocked the harbor, the ship was already traveling at several knots, far away enough to barely hear it.

Chapter 5- END.