Chapter 14

I was at a loss for words. As the smoke from her wounds dissipated, Ysandra's usual scowl returned. She flexed her right hand several times, then inspected her… new… Brand closely. “Fucking hell, this never stops to hurt,” she murmured.

“Ys… you.. my Brand… how?!” I managed to stammer out. “I thought you were Zvuk?!” Ysandra kept shaking her hand, like she was trying to put out a fire.

“I'll explain eventually. Right now, we need to get out of here.”

I bit back a retort; then I unslung the Hans-Vadim and handed it to her. "What's the plan, Corporal?" She rolled her eyes.

“Thanks. But uh, I'd rather you stick to 'Ys'. And I need you to help me punch through the ice wall.”

“I don't know if I can do that blue fire thing again,” I said.

“...no idea what the heck that is, but you just need to touch it. Shit, you’d probably just need to stand near it. Two incubating Ignis should generate enough heat to get through.” She approached the wall of frost with her usual self-sure stride, her right hand glowing a vivid orange.

I decided to check on the others before joining her. Gene and Reese were pushing against the air beyond the railing, their faces strained with effort. After a while the air shimmered and a small sonic boom threw them backwards.

“Zvuk field?” I asked.

Reese shook his head. “There's a Zvuk bubble between us and the outside, but that thing was something else.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Gene sat up and cracked his knuckles. “Feels like a solid wall to me.”

“Ysandra's got a plan already. How're the others?”

“Shaken, but alive.” Noire limped towards us noiselessly, his Brand still silver. He looked fine, all things considered, though his wrists were a little scratched up. “Captured twice in four days. Fantastic. Thanks though.”

“You're welcome.” I helped Reese up and asked, “How about your friends?”

“All accounted for, sir. Thanks. Once they're back in the station we can call this mission a success.”

“Got it. Keep an eye out.”

Ysandra was tapping her feet impatiently as she leaned against the ice wall. “Your team good?”

“More or less. We've had a hell of a time the past two days.” I sat against the presumably cold wall, my Brand flaring up in a burst of heat in an effort to keep me warm.

“How much did you use your Brand?” I winced, suddenly remembering her warning a few days back. Still, I told her everything, especially the way I burned Knife Nut at the penthouse and the blue flames that melted through steel.

“Only two heavy activations. Not bad, really. But blue fire this early?” She whistled in appreciation. “Least you won't have any trouble when you start progressing properly.”

“Progressing pro- shit, man. You have so many things to explain. First of all, why me?” I could feel my temper slowly rising, the pressures of the past few days boiling over.

“You really wanna do this now?” she asked, one eyebrow raised. Her Brand flashed brighter, too, and the ice started melting more obviously now.

“Yes. Now.” Not even a hint of hesitation.

She waited for another few seconds.”I've been watching you for a long time, Blaze,” Ysandra finally began, her tone soft and serious. “Long enough to know how much you've been holding yourself back. Long enough to know that when push comes to shove, you are gonna shove back. Hard.”

“And? What? The end of the world is the ultimate push or something?!” I shouted.

“Think back to how you were a week ago and tell me it isn't.” Her reply wasn't harsh, or sarcastic; she said it like she was speaking a fact she'd known all her life. Her eyes didn't waver an inch as they stared into mine.

“Look. The world's fucked. But that doesn't mean humanity has to be,” added Ysandra, her Brand getting brighter as she spoke. ‘Babel, those idiots, wants weapons. I - we - need survivors.” Bubbles formed on the water around our feet. “Like you.”

I punched the solid ice in sheer frustration, my knuckles bleeding once again even as my fist sank all the way in. Unlike before, it didn't cauterize immediately. “...fine. I have a promise to keep anyway.” Ysandra crossed her arms, waiting for more questions.

“...why teams? Why not a whole community? I've seen what Gene's Brand can do. Imagine two of that, or five, or twenty.”

She dropped her gaze and shook her head. This time it was her turn to make a hole in the ice, the water boiling away almost immediately. “Trust me, I begged them to not do it. But I didn't have a choice - not at the time.

“Like I said, Babel wants weapons. Brands are… these things have so much potential.” Her voice was sad, almost wistful, yet full of awe as she gazed at her Ignis Brand. “The possibilities are… maybe not endless, but definitely vast. But it's something beyond my reach.” She balled her hand into a fist again, and threw another punch.

“You literally copied my Brand, Ys.”

"Tch. That's the joke. I can only copy." Some of her armor was beginning to smoulder, the ash scattering everywhere. "I can't even remember how to use half of it, and that's before I start copying more advanced Brands." Her sleeves had completely burned away now, but her body armor didn't catch fire. Her left arm had a huge scar running from her shoulder all the way to her wrist. Her right, meanwhile, was purple and bruised around the elbow. Her Brand wasn't healing either wound.

“Ten. Years.” A punch for every word. “Ten. Goddamned. Years. I've copied almost every Brand under the sun, and no matter how good it felt, no matter how natural, they always. Fade. AWAY.” The wall of ice was completely gone now, and Ysandra blinked away some tears. “And all Babel sees are weapons of war to point at their enemies. What a fucking waste.”

“...I'm not the only one with issues, huh.”

She actually laughed; as she did, her temperature dropped until her Brand became inactive again. Her hair was drenched and her olive skin glistened with sweat, but she didn't seem to care. “Understatement of the century,” she said as she turned to the tunnel again. "Well, shit, that worked out better than I thought. Good job, Blaze.”

“You're, uh, welcome…?” Pretty sure she did most of the work there… I rubbed my hair, a little unsure of what to do next. “Right. I'll grab the others.”

------------------

“Good talk, little man,” Arkham greeted me. The other sacrifices looked dirtied and dazed, but like Noire, were unharmed.

“This is almost too easy, Arkham,” I whispered to my friend. “Do they have control of their Brands?”

“Nay, little man. If you or Gene or Noire go berserk, you'd probably be our best bets.” He looked over my shoulder, eyeing our Valkyrie with more than a little respect. "Aye, and her too, though she had this eye on her cheek the day she found me. Color me surprised she’s Ignis now.”

Gene joined us now, and we made space for him. “There's no way it's gonna be this straightforward. Odds of this being another trap?”

“Hundred percent,” replied Noire as he squeezed in between me and Arkham. “They didn't even torture us or anything. Ysandra, well… she resisted a little, but uh, looks like your - her - Brand fixed that up real quick.”

“Yeah, care to explain, Blaze, sir?” Reese towered over us in our huddle. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Oh yeah. She definitely had a lightning bolt on her leg when she found me!”, exclaimed Gene.

“She, uh, she can copy Brands. And she's been at it for at least a decade.”

“Well, that explains some things, I guess,” mused Noire.

“I say we sic her into the tunnels and burn the damnable thing down,” suggested our sea-loving friend.

“One problem with that, boys,” Ysandra said as she jumped onto and leaned over my shoulder. Her armor was… thinner… than I thought it was; she was much lighter than I expected too. “I can copy and use Brands no problem, but my body never adjusts properly. Look, see-” She held out one of her arms, red patches all over her skin. “If I try to use Ignis like that again - especially one still incubating - I'd probably die. Horribly.”

“Not the blaze you wanna cover yourself in, I presume,” teased Gene, his grin as wide as ever.

“Shut up, Gene,” Ysandra and I said simultaneously. I fought against the instinct to look up at her.

Heh.

“Ys, any chance that sniper of yours still works?” I asked instead.

“No scope, and my last clip's down to four shots.”

I unholstered her silver Tesla and held it above my head. “You can have it back.” Ysandra pushed it back towards me gently.

“Too late, Blaze. Gun's already imprinted on you.”

“Ma'am, am I to understand your Tesla pistol has genetic imprinting tech on it?!” Reese said in alarm.

“Genetic? Yeah, officer. But it's also linked to his Brand.” She reached down and manipulated my hand and pistol in it until I found myself staring at the barrel of a gun. “Whoops.” She ejected the magazine, handing it to me, then proceeded. “See that little black mark near the hammer?” The others squeezed in even tighter as they leaned over for a better look.

“Wow, that is tiny. Wonder if that says anything abo-”

“Don’t even finish that thought, Gene,” I interrupted, exasperated.

“So… what happens if anyone else tries to fire it?” Noire asked. In response Ysandra yanked the magazine from me, loaded it back in as she pointed it at the ceiling, and tried to fire it three times. Instead of three new holes in the ceiling and several ringing ears, my Brand lit up three times, each accompanied by quick flashes of heat along my entire right arm. She handed the gun back to me, magazine first.

"So, let me see if I got this straight," Gene began. "We're about to walk straight into another trap. Our most experienced member can't even use her Brand anymore, and only has four shots with a scopeless sniper."

Ysandra put her chin against my head as she replied, "Yep."

“Meanwhile, three of us have spears, but at least your stepladder has a pistol, and the police officer has a shotgun.”

“Okay, to be fair,” Reese said as he grabbed a rifle. “I’m not against giving these out, but I’m worried you’d hurt yourself sir.”

“I’ll take it,” Ysandra said as she reached out for it eagerly. “Nice, a Free Industries rifle. 5.62?”

“Yep.” Reese didn't give her the gun, though.

“And yeah, we have the other Branded too, Reese,” I finished for Gene. “Can they fight?”

“Negative sir.”

“Right. There’s six of us, and there’s five of them. Ysandra, you’re taking point this time. Everyone else, pick someone to buddy up with. It’ll be your responsibility to protect them until we get to the station.” She finally jumped off of me, and I readjusted my spears and my shoulder bag.

I told Reese to gather his friends, and we explained the situation. As I scanned all their faces, all tired and scared, I realized Ryan wasn’t among them. That can’t be good. I buddied up with a younger-looking guy, couldn’t have been older than sixteen with short blonde hair and an ear missing. “Hey kid. What’s your name?”

“Freddie.”

“Right, Freddie. We’re about to get out of here. I need you to stick to me, or any of the adults with spears or guns on them. We’ll keep you safe.” He nodded without any other comment.

“Team, let’s move.”

Ysandra did one last check on her sniper. “On me.”

The ten of us followed behind her, Reese keeping an eye on our rear in the dark of the tunnel. His friends were holding our flashlights for us, making sure we had clear sight all around us. Ten pairs of boots clanged against the steel, echoing against the walls constantly. And yet… it felt like we were getting nowhere fast...

Gene was the first to notice something wrong. “We still haven’t reached that maniac with the cleaver hand, you guys.” Ysandra held up a fist in the air, signalling us to stop.

“He’s right. Something’s wrong.” She whipped around, sniper raised. “One… two… three… four… Shit. Blaze. Where’s your buddy?”

“Huh? He’s right h-” But he wasn’t. The flashlight Freddie was holding clattered on the ground and sputtered out. “REESE! Whe-” Something slammed against my left arm, throwing me to the wall. This time I definitely felt something crack.

Why do you run, Ignis?

“Who-?”

You run, and you take the others with you.

“Fucking Inception. Reese, are you sure these guys are your friends?” Ysandra shouted, pointing her sniper straight at him. The other rescuees didn’t even flinch when she aimed at them in turn.

“Yes, sir, they…” Reese dropped his shotgun without warning as he clutched his head in pain. His other friends all turned off their flashlights, and in the dark, four Brands activated, each glowing a different color.

You think them unwilling?

The yellow light from one of the Branded intensified as she floated into the air, wrapped in some weird purple energy. It crept out from her Brand until her entire body was aglow with a fierce light, not unlike a miniature sun. Ysandra fired, but the bullet flattened itself against the purple barrier surrounding her target and the bullet fell to the ground, useless.

They have accepted their fates.

Gene and I winced, but our makeshift earplugs worked just fine. What was not fine was another of Reese’s friends, who sparked a bright electric blue. I could smell the ozone build up in the confined space as he fired a huge bolt of lightning towards Ysandra. Instead of being zapped, though, her armor took in all the electricity and started to glow a similar shade of blue, while her Brand turned a bright orange and some of her skin started to smoke a little.

Their blood WILL flow, one way or another.

“Goddamn. Did you seriously think that was gonna work? Do you even know that lightning is like, 90% heat?” She dropped her sniper and punched her attacker straight in the jaw. He dropped to the ground, unmoving.

It need not be by our hand.

“Restrain the other Branded. NOW!” I screamed as I felt something encase my feet. My Brand flared its usual orange, and it immediately melted. I took up a spear and aimed straight for the familiar pure white light near one of the walls.

“AAAAH!” The bloodied spear froze as the Branded crumpled to the ground. I took up another spear and approached my target, an old man with a single, defiant eye. “Heehehe. Boy. Such a fool you are.” I had hit him straight in the shoulder, but the spear didn't go all the way through. Instead, his Brand had frozen him completely against the wall. He screamed in agony as I stuck a second spear next to his feet, driving it into the walkway's steel.

“WHY?!” I twisted the spear, breaking off some of the ice that formed. It began to freeze over again almost immediately. “Weren’t you Reese’s friend? We risked our lives for you! And not even five goddamned minutes into the escape, you turn on us?” My Brand was getting brighter with every word, and the spear had caught fire. In response, the old man simply laughed, his one good tooth wobbling. I could feel his cold stare even as I turned to help my friends.

Ysandra was still trying to bring down the shining woman that now served as our primary source of light. Arkham was desperately trying to free his ice-encrusted feet as Noire and Gene tried to take down the last Branded, but they were having a hard time despite the numbers advantage. The guy was covered in deep purple smoke and my friends were fighting one-handed, as they were using the other to use their jackets to cover their faces. Reese, meanwhile, was still writhing on the ground.

I circled around, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Our enemy performed a lightning quick axe kick as his purple haze turned into a radioactive green, and Gene just barely managed to jump back. His jacket still got caught, and it immediately started smoking, black smog obscuring Gene from sight. Noire, meanwhile, tried to find an opening in the flanks, but got hit with a faceful of the haze. He fell to the ground, coughing and rubbing his eyes.

Gene dropped his fighting stance and jumped backwards in a panic as the jacket slowly disappeared, while Noire crawled away from the smoke, still hacking his lungs out. Arkham took their place, the yellow light bouncing on his blue eyes. The smoke around his opponent turned back into purple as they circled each other, Arkham careful to keep the man's back turned away from me.

My friend threw the first punch. “RaaaaaaAAAAAH!” His own Brand lit up a brilliant hue of sea blue, and I noticed he was covered in some of the water Ys and I melted from the wall. There was a loud crash, like a tidal wave, as Arkham got his strike in, his enemy doubling over in surprise. And yet, as he coughed out some blood, his purple aura grew stronger, and some sort of mist began to emerge from him.

Arkham's eyes grew wide, as if he recognized what the mist was, and jumped back several paces. He looked at me and shook his head. But I couldn't exactly leave him alone against such a dangerous enemy. So in response, I drew a spear - my third out of five - and resumed my approach.

The mist from our opponent finally began dissipating as he stood up, back into a fighting stance. This time, he didn't wait for Arkham to make a move - he took one deep breath and lunged straight for my teammate. Luckily, Arkham had anticipated it… or so I thought.

Arkham had turned to block with the left side of his body, but at the last second the opposing Branded pivoted out of his lunge, spinning into a kick right into Arkham's sternum. He crumpled to the ground, his breathing quick and ragged. He was rolled into his back by our attacker.

Once again, the Branded emitted a bright purple haze that slowly slithered towards Arkham.

I dropped all pretense of stealth, and started rushing towards them, trying to catch our enemy's attention. "Hey! Misty! Over here!" I threw a spear high, overshooting on purpose, and it rotted almost instantly as it passed through the purple mist. "Oh, shit!" I reached for another spear as Misty finally turned around. He had a short buzzcut, and his clothes were little more than rags, his haze having destroyed them. His purple-lit Brand was prominently displayed on top of his left pec:

His veins pulsed the same hue as the haze slowly receded again. His expression wasn't malicious, nor regretful - it was perfectly neutral, like he was just doing a job. He spread his legs wide and put his arms in front of him, hands open.

He probably wants to catch my spear… but that's too obvious…

My lapse in attention almost got me killed - Misty was on me fast as lightning, and I just barely blocked his punch with my spear. He managed to break it in half, and I swung my right arm to slash at his head, keeping my left close for defense. He ducked, and I leaned back to avoid a deadly uppercut; I reversed my momentum and plunged both my spear halves straight into his abdomen.

“ORA!” he screamed as my pointy halfspear opened a gash along his side. To my horror, it began to hiss out a familiar purple mist….

I just barely got my head out of the way of the next strike - an elbow that came crashing down at several meters a second. Unfortunately, it instead hit my left shoulder, still extended from my previous attack. I heard and felt something crack, and the shooting pain was enough for me to let go of the other half of my spear.

“Son of a bi- GAAAAAH!” I stumbled backwards as my Brand lit up a bright orange; the entirety of my left arm began to smoke as it healed. But I already knew it was too slow.

Without missing a beat, Misty threw another wide kick, hitting me in the spine this time. The nerve jolt jerked my body forwards, but I still had a weapon; I turned into spin, crashing my halfspear right into his still-expressionless face. It broke completely this time, but several splinters dug themselves into his face.

He lost his balance, and as he fell the hissing from his torso grew louder. He crashed hard onto one knee,and his purple aura suddenly switched to a bright, acidic green. The walkway immediately started corroding, and the splinters in his face charred and smoked into nothing. His new wounds - five total, four along the cheeks and the last just under his right eye - started leaking some sort of green gas.

I drew my pistol and aimed right at his kneeling form. “Stay down, buddy. You're not getting a second chance.” He looked up at me, and now he had the faintest of smiles on his face. He sprang back up onto his feet, and I immediately pulled the trigger, the recoil enough to rattle my still-injured left shoulder.

And yet Misty stayed standing. I thought I had missed at first, but no - he was holding the corroded remains of my bullet in his hands as it crumbled to dust. Worst of all, the green haze was still getting thicker by the second.

I holstered my pistol and put my right hand up again, left still limp and useless by my side. Misty gave a slight bow before charging at me with an almost deafening “ORA!” It was a simple jab, one I met with my own, the impact of our fists echoing in the tunnel.

But there was a second impact - an explosion strong enough to throw us both back. I hit the wall with another crunch. I didn't have time to process what happened, though; I scrambled to my feet and prepared for another clash.

My opponent, however, stayed still, observing me with furrowed brows. No, not me, but my Brand. It had switched from its usual orange to a fiery, searing blue. My left arm now also felt fully healed, but I kept it to my side. I needed all the advantages I could get.

Misty slowly stood up, much more wary than before. He gave another small bow, which I returned this time. His roared his mighty battle cry again - “OOORRRAAA!” - as we launched ourselves at each other, corrosive green haze against blazing blue heat.

No contact this time - as soon as he got within a meter of me, his gas ignited into a massive azure fireball that engulfed him completely. I turned away, the temperature so high I felt the hair on my arms burn. When I turned back, my opponent was still on his feet, one eyebrow raised. His green mist turned purple, and after another small bow, we exchanged blows again.

Every single one of his punches was infused with the purple haze, which disappeared whenever my Brand pulsed. With every impact I could feel my knuckles crack, so unused to meeting another fist in too long, yet my training from years ago, coupled with my healing, kept the pain in check. The first kick caught me by surprise, knocking me down to one knee, but I caught the second with my left arm and yanked. Misty landed on his hands, then twisted sideways to break my grip; he swept his legs to knock me fully off balance, but he recoiled away when his foot smoked on contact with my leg.

We stayed there, eyeing each other, our breathing both measured and even to maximize our energy. The walkway was slowly deforming under the intense heat I was generating. After a tense minute or two, he finally broke and laughed, an eerily cheerful sound in the gloom of the tunnel.

"I did not think I would meet such a match among my enemies!" My Brand changed from blue to orange to an inert black as my opponent turned his Brand off and reabsorbed what little purple mist was left.

What are you doing, Kamandag?!

“I have a name, you psychic twerp.”

HOW DARE-

“Hey, you, other Ignis!” He was addressing Ysandra this time, who was still trying to pull the yellow-glowing Branded back to the ground. "Tickle her to wake her up!" She shot me a look like I was insane for listening to someone who was trying to kill me not seconds ago, but I just shrugged. Rolling her eyes, Ysandra pulled off one of the Branded's shoes then tickled her. She ducked to avoid a twitching leg, then continued until laughter filled the tunnel and the weird purplish-pink light surrounding the glowing woman was gone. She slowly dropped to the ground and wiped away a tear.

“Goodness me, and I was having such a nice dream, too!” She had shoulder-length hair, but I couldn't determine if it was naturally blonde or it was just her Brand at work. She had a dazzling smile and a model's posture; yet in comparison to the rest of her, her eyes were a simple black. “Ah, thank you, love,” she said to Ysandra with a curtsy. “But I was promised sleep, not this… mess. May I inquire as to what happened?”

“WHY, THESE BRANDED PUT ON QUITE THE SHOW!”