Al’Corvo and Il’Nok sat silently in one of the storage towers. When Sector 20 was originally built, it wasn’t meant to be an efficient place. Al’Corvo heard from his dad it was just another part of the city. The larger city that is, before the ghosts and centurions roamed the earth. When the walls were erected, and Eastern Sector 20 established, towers were set up to take up any available empty space.

The Ward pair were tired after the brawl with the possessed, so they were having a feast of worm-ridden apples and maggot-infested biscuits. To a story snatcher, this was the height of luxury. Food in the apocalypse was divided into 3 groups. Nutrients, rations and food. Nutrients were bars of… mysterious insect meat. Not story snatcher to be sure (as some desperate survivors attested to), but sure as hell nothing normal. Rations were what Al’Corvo had access to as a government worker. Old MREs, tinned food and hardtack. Food however, was the good stuff. Farmed maggots, crunchy grasshoppers and beef. All crushed into an edible slurry of course. Story snatchers had a liquid diet, although their liquifying venom had been replaced with stones and metal over the years.

“So… Al’Corvo, how did you manage that? I have never seen anyone do something that cool!” halfway through her sentence it seemed that Il’Nok had regained the effervescence Al’Corvo had originally seen her with. She also had her helmet off.

A loud crunch echoed throughout the small room at the top of the tower as Al’Corvo bit into some hardtack. He almost looked ponderous.

“Not sure really, prior to this I had barely managed to punch the shit out of my dickhead of a co-worker.” Al’Corvo suddenly became quiet. “I swear after I heard I was assigned to you, I just kinda lost my cool.”

His face scrunched up as if he was in deep pain.

“Roots Al’Corvo, you alright?” Il’Nok looked concerned.

Al’Corvo let out one of his regular sighs.

“I’m… fine. Just stressed.” He managed to pull a pained smile, “never done one of these before you know? Just last week I was complaining about the shitty schedules when it came to the Wards helping us out.”

Il’Nok lightly punched him on the shoulder.

“You of all people should know how understaffed we are. It takes years to get us ready.” Il’Nok had a joking smile that signalled she wasn’t angry.

Il’Nok stood up, put on her helmet and reached out a hand to pull Al’Corvo up. Taking it he stood up, stretching his aching body. It seemed as though his body still wasn’t fully recovered.

The two slowly worked their way down the narrow ladder, with Il’Nok taking the lead. Crouched over, Al’Corvo quickly looked outside, not seeing any ghosts or possessed. Now that his temper had simmered down, Al’Corvo was merely silent. The wind moaned over the warehouses, giving the place an eerie atmosphere. That and the eternally circling ghosts, indeed it was apt to say that they were like vultures.

Much like when he was fixing the pylons, every tiny noise sent Al’Corvo into an alert state. This was in stark contrast to Il’Nok, who calmly stalked the concrete roads with the grace that came with years of training.

Once again the pair found themselves at a crossroads. The wall loomed a mere 100 metres or so away. With a few more turns, they would find themselves at the far edge of the Sector 20 wall. The plan being that they slowly move from the left side to the right, covering the echo net with ectoplasm. Once electrified, it would work as an ad hoc anti-ghost measure.

As the afternoon turned to evening, mist began rising and clinging to the Wards’ feet. As the mist rose further and further up, growing as thick as wool, Al’Corvo finally relaxed. He hadn’t realised how taught his muscles had become until they were loosened, and he felt an hour’s worth of cramps take over.

Il’Nok must have noticed his grimace of pain, as she tried sounding as gentle as possible through the echo effect of her helmet when she asked him how he was.

“Fine. Just fine. Fuck, no, it hurts so much. I think I tore something in my legs,” Al’Corvo regretted fighting possessed after he had barely finished recovering. Though that on its own sparked rage within him. Why did the Wards give him a seraph-forsaken job when he had just come out of fucking hospital!

Letting out a breath that was visible in the clingy mists, Al’Corvo calmed himself.

“Lucky for us, ghosts hate mist. We’re not too sure why, I think it’s cause it spooks ‘em too much. You should be fine until we reach the wall.” Il’Nok desperately tried to cheer the conflicted story snatcher.

The Wards lifted themselves up from a crouching position and began walking the empty road standing up. As they walked, Al’Corvo could see a few ghosts circling inside of a warehouse, spectral tongues licking at long-spoilt grain. Despite spotting the Wards, the ghosts merely stared at them as they passed. One still hissed in frustration however.

Soon steam began merging with the mist. Al’Corvo almost lept back at the unexpected metallic flavour.

“What’s that?” Al’Corvo barked gruffly. He wasn’t in the mood for more surprises.

“Uhhhh. You know what, I have no clue.” It seemed that Il’Nok was just as confused.

Visibility was reduced in the mist, which had grown stronger with the steam. Luckily, as long as the two continued straight forward they would reach the wall. The streets began showing signs of a struggle. Rather than the abandoned ghost town feel Sector 20 gave off earlier, this street looked more like a battlefield.

Deep, blackened rents scarred the once-smooth concrete. Al’Corvo could even see a few bits of burnt meat littering the streets. Whether it was food or something else was unknown. As he accidentally stepped on a piece, he felt a bit of twisted metal push against his sole. Perhaps it was best that he didn’t know. Roof tiles too littered the ground, making Al’Corvo more conscious of where he stepped. Unlike Il’Nok, he didn’t wear shoes as they hindered his climbing. A sudden burst of hot air pushed the mist aside for long enough that Al’Corvo could see what was causing the steam.

Milky white flesh dominated his field of view. It was ribbed in wide, wavy patterns. Every few seconds steam emerged from the channels, and they got deeper. With a cautionary tap, Al’Corvo pulled his hand back. Not only was the flesh scalding hot, but it was as hard and smooth as porcelain. Looking around, Al’Corvo could see something that vaguely resembled an arm. It had torn muscles, revealing dark blue innards. Clearly, whatever this thing was, it wasn’t natural. Or simply used hemocyanin instead of hemoglobin.

Ignoring both the pain from the heat and his strained legs, Al’Corvo climbed up the corpse to take a better look at its arm. Once he saw its distinctive bladed appendage, an arm without a hand, and its featureless face, he immediately understood what this creature was.

“...Centurion,” he whispered under his breath.

“Yup, I was manning the walls at the time this thing came in. Took ages and a bunch of broken pylons to take it down.” Al’Corvo turned around to see that Il’Nok had joined him.

“So the Immunes actually kill these things. They’re bloody crazy.”

“Yeah, that’s why I joined the Wards. Much safer really.”

The two silently slid off the creature’s underside and found themselves only a dozen metres away from the wall.

“Time to get to it then I suppose.” Al’Corvo looking forward to finally being done with this Ward business