Windstorm

The sky is unusually bright that night, lit by the vivid intensity of a meteor shower. The sky burns a mottled purplish-black as untold tons of stone and other debris streak through the atmosphere, igniting and fizzling away in a dazzling display. The fire in the sky somehow makes the stars seem to glow even stronger, the moons shine even brighter. Thin, wispy streaks of galactic dust add their own touch to this beautiful night, painting sections of the sky in brilliant blues and whites. All over Thera, people stare at the sky in wonder, almost unable to comprehend the vast celestial beauty before them.

In West Village, time seems to stand still as every villager steps out of their homes to admire the view. The town is quiet as no one dares to disturb this rare moment of sheer tranquility. From within the Michaels’ homestead, Venna, Mamaw, and Jane all send their silent thoughts to Peter, wishing him well, praying for his safe return.

The Locke family gather on their porch, admiring the stunning view as a family, wishing they could share it with their daughter as well. Max reaches out with a hand to brush the sky, straining his relatively plain powers to try and feel his sister’s energy, though he knows the effort is wasted. It’s been weeks since they’ve left, so she’s surely out of reach by now. Still, he tries to reach her anyway, to somehow contact her and wish for her safety.

Across the way, Cindy and Gwen watch the skies from their own deck. Cindy tears up slightly, thinking of her precious son’s face. All she can think of is how much he reminds her of his father when he was younger: bold, brilliant, a little awkward but gifted nonetheless. How she had allowed either of them to leave her was baffling to her. Gideon may have been a genius, but he was no fighter. Whatever he saw on the day he left with Marcus had broken him down into something unrecognizable. And now Joel is gone, too, off on some dangerous journey to stop a madwoman who could vaporize him with just a finger…

Her dark thoughts are suddenly interrupted as Gwen places a steadying hand on her mother’s shoulder. Cindy looks down to see her daughter’s small yet comforting smile, a smile that conveys a deeper message than words could ever manage. Cindy pauses for a moment and then smiles back before returning her gaze to the stars. “I love you, son. Be safe,” she whispers into the night, her voice so soft that even the chirping singer beetles could drown it out.

“Joel…” Gideon murmurs from within his own home, staring at the sky through a window. His eyes strain to soak in all of the beauty he is being bombarded with, so he looks away, down to his old, calloused hands. He leans over to rest his head on his hands tiredly. He sends a quick prayer into the void, wishing for his son’s safety and success before he walks away from the window and turns in for the night.

***

Meanwhile, far off from West Village, or any other village for that matter, Joel, Peter, Maria, Sullivan, and Elyas all come to a halt as night descends over the Garrick Wastes, greeting them with the same beautiful display from around the planet. Peter and Maria both straighten up and smile slightly, a warm and comforting feeling washing over both of them, as if the sky itself is reaching down to embrace them and soothe their aches. Peter lowers his head and whispers his love for his family, feeling the pain in his right arm somehow ease up. Maria gathers up her strength and sends a silent message to her family, hoping that they will somehow manage to pick it up and know that she’s thinking of them.

Joel, Sullivan, and Elyas simply continue to watch in awe as the meteor shower runs its course, streaks of brilliant reds and purples darting through the sky by the dozens before they finally fade out of view, the last remaining chunks of stone and debris vaporizing in the atmosphere. “Beautiful…” Joel mutters, the pistol in his hand slipping slightly as his grip loosens.

“We should get back to training,” Elyas says after a moment of hesitation. He hates to kill the calm mood like this, but he knows that it’s for the best. The more time they waste staring at the sky, the less prepared they’ll be for their confrontation with the Harbinger.

“You’re probably right,” Maria says with a hint of disappointment. “You ready to go, Elyas?”

Elyas nods and takes a few steps back away from Maria, a small blade of dark psychic energy forming in his hand. “Let’s get back at it,” he says with a smirk. He waits for her to gather herself and slip back into a defensive position before he chucks the blade in her direction. The blade gently flies through the air, and Maria easily blocks it with a field of shimmering gold telekinetic energy. Elyas nods his approval and generates another blade, throwing it at her faster and harder, only for it to also be deflected by Maria’s shining shields.

Joel turns around, tightens his grip on his pistol, then snaps his arm up and takes aim at one of the many boulders he’d asked Sullivan to gather around him. He focuses on the targets around him and fires three rapid fire bursts of bullets, striking three nearly perfect bullseyes in quick succession, emptying the last of this clip before reloading and releasing another volley of gunfire.

As Joel practices his aim, Sullivan returns to his workout, dropping back down to his stomach and continuing his set of push-ups. He rises and lowers with a quick but steady rhythm, not even seeming to break a sweat as he works. After a quick series of thirty push-ups, he shoves himself up a bit higher, giving himself enough time to twist his torso around and catch himself on his right hand, placing his left in a pocket and continuing his workout with only his right arm.

“I thought we were supposed to be training our psychic abilities?” Maria asks as she continues to deflect Elyas’ attacks.

“I am,” Sullivan says simply, his voice finally starting to show the strain of his efforts. He pushes himself to do three more one-sided push-ups before he suddenly erupts in a burst of green fire. “When I get tired, I use my Flash Blaze to re-energize and push myself even further,” Sullivan says, using his newly restored strength to toss himself onto his left side and continue his workout with his left arm.

“And what happens when that energy runs out?” Maria asks, the brief distraction nearly costing her a finger as her telekinetic fields start to slip and Elyas’ blade nearly slices through her hand. Maria lets out a brief yelp of surprise and strengthens her defenses just in time to avoid any damage.

“It won’t,” Sullivan replies with a small snicker. “Just focus on yourself.”

“Noted,” Maria mumbles under her breath.

“What’s P.K. doing?” Joel asks as he empties another chamber of bullets into the boulders, scoring all bullseyes.

“Making dinner,” Maria says through a grunt, blocking a rapid volley of blade strikes from Elyas.

“And training,” Peter adds from a few yards away, cooking a chunk of nevin meat they had hunted down on a metallic pan, using his left hand to generate just enough energy to heat up the pan without destroying it.

“Are you sure you’re up for that, P.K.? I can make a fire and cook for you if you need to rest some more,” Joel says as he does a quick reload of his gun, spinning the barrels around idly.

Peter whirls around in an instant. “Absolutely not,” he says, the brief distraction causing the energy in his hand to flicker slightly. Peter clenches down hard on his energy, forcing the flow to return to a more stable level. “Last time you cooked, I was laid out for a whole day. I’m not doing that again.” Joel simply chuckles at that and continues his target practice on some farther stones.

As the minutes pass by, the sweet smells of roasting nevin meat and mixed desert plants rise into the air, filling the makeshift camp with a cloud of deliciously aromatic smoke. By the time the meal is done, everyone is starving after another long day of travel, battles, and training. Everyone gathers around Peter as he serves the roasted nevin, stinger berries, and mixed herbs onto small plates for everyone to dig into. Sullivan wastes no time and immediately dives into his meal, the scorching heat of the meat barely registering on his tongue in his hunger.

“It’s delicious,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food, already scooping up another bite.

Maria blows on her fork before she bites into the roast nevin, her eyes widening with delight the instant the meal touches her tongue. “God, that’s good!” She says after she swallows her first bite. “What all did you put in this?”

Peter chuckles softly to himself as he bites into his own forkful of nevin. “You know what it is, we foraged for it. Nevin meat, roasted with some fresh stinger berries, a few clumps of travelherb, and a bit of kanto bark for seasoning.” He devours another bite of his admittedly amazing meal before he finishes his thought. “Heck, you gathered the berries yourself.”

Maria smiles, a bit bashful for forgetting. Elyas simply laughs and gives Peter an appreciative clap on the back. “Man, I haven’t had a meal this good in a long time.”

“Stick around long enough, and you’ll see what P.K. can really do,” Joel chimes in with a smirk. “If we had a real oven, he could’ve made dessert. Now that is something to get excited about. I’ve been wanting some of your cactus apple scones for a while.”

Peter smiles awkwardly and rubs the back of his head self-consciously. “Well, I’m sure I could make some sort of makeshift oven if y’all really wanted some.”

“Yes, that,” Maria says through another mouthful of nevin. “After we beat the Harbinger, we’re getting victory scones.”

Peter laughs heartily at that. “Alright, then that settles it. I’ll have to get the ingredients at some point, but that shouldn’t be too hard.”

Elyas chuckles along with everyone as he finishes up his meal. After he eats the last bite of his nevin, he sets his plate aside, stands up, stretches, and reaches a hand down to Maria, who is just finishing her meal as well. “Speaking of winning, we should get back to it, yeah?”

Maria sighs but takes his hand anyway. “Yeah, probably. But I was thinking of training my illusions up a bit. They could use some more work.”

Sullivan finishes his second plate—which no one saw him grab—and stands up with the others. “If you’re gonna do that, why not practice with me? I could use a ‘sparring partner’, you know?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Maria agrees. “What about you, Peter? Gonna go practice your blasts some more?”

“Actually, I was thinking I could train with Peter for a bit,” Elyas says before Peter can answer. “No offense, Maria, but I need someone to practice my own shields against, and you can’t really give me the challenge I need.”

“No argument here,” Maria says nonchalantly as she and Sullivan walk off to a far corner of the camp to begin ‘fighting’ each other. Maria casts illusions of bandits for Sullivan to dodge and fight against, while Sullivan trains his form and technique, honing it until he is sharp enough to evade even the quickest of shadows.

“Sure, I’ll help you out,” Peter says, slightly skeptical of Elyas’ odds. “Just let me know when I need to back off a bit. I don’t want to overdo it, you know?”

Elyas smirks at that. “Actually, I was gonna ask you to go all in. Can’t really train for a fight against someone as powerful as the Harbinger if we don’t give it our best, right?”

Peter hesitates at that. He generates a small psion orb in his hand and hefts it up, catching it on the way back down. “Okay. If you say so.” Elyas nods and forms one of his void fields around himself, causing the air to vibrate and ripple in thin, black waves, almost like a heat mirage. Peter readies himself, takes a few steps back, and charges the small orb in his hand until it grows to about the size of a kanto melon, then he hurls it forward with all of his might.

The orb rockets away from his hand at blistering speed, closing the gap between himself and Elyas in a second. Peter braces for the worst but is surprised when the orb suddenly ricochets away at an odd angle, as if someone had slapped it aside. “Come on. Give me more,” Elyas says cockily, his void field shimmering with pitch-black light.

Surprised by the ease with which Elyas had just deflected his attack, Peter smiles a bit and charges up another, more powerful orb and throws it as hard as he can. Elyas manages to catch the orb in his field and toss it aside just as before, but just when he is about to taunt Peter again, he finds another orb hurtling straight for his face. Elyas brings up his arms to protect himself, strengthening his void field and deflecting the powerful psionic attack with just that much less ease. Elyas only has a second to breathe before Peter continues his onslaught, sending wave after wave of psion orbs at his friend, ranging from small, rapid strikes to larger, slower blasts that take more time to deflect.

With each attack, Peter pours more and more energy into his orbs, throwing them harder, generating dozens at a time to try and overwhelm Elyas’ defenses, tossing them in all sorts of patterns to keep Elyas guessing on what direction he will have to defend from. “That’s it! Keep ‘em coming!” Elyas shouts as he bats aside another wave of orbs, clearly a little winded but pressing on nonetheless, eager to face this new challenge.

Peter responds by sending another wave of five orbs out, using the brief lull to gather himself. He presses his hands together and starts summoning as much power as he can from his psyche, feeling his arms burn from the sheer amount of energy flowing through them. His whole body starts to glow with a sort of internal bluish light, as if his veins were trying to contain the sun itself. As Peter continues pouring his energy out, a single, massive psion orb generates between his hands, starting no bigger than any of his other orbs until it suddenly and violently expands to almost the size of his entire body. Wind whips and small sand storms rage as Peter continues to charge this final attack, short bursts of blue-and-purple lightning firing off of his body as his inner glow grows until he seems to be engulfed in electricity, a silhouette in reverse.

Elyas’ eyes go wide in shock as the massive sphere of psychic energy is suddenly shot directly at him, closing the gap between himself and Peter faster than the eye can see. He is barely able to register the attack before it collides with his void field, almost causing it to collapse instantly as it makes contact. Elyas only manages to keep the field stable through sheer willpower and the fear of what might happen to him if he fails. He braces himself against the powerful blast, planting his feet firmly in the suddenly too-unstable sand, steadying his mind and focusing solely on not dropping his defenses.

The orb continues to press against his void field with an almost malicious sort of strength, forcing it to bend and warp against its sheer power and might, threatening to shatter it with each passing second. Elyas grits his teeth and pours more energy into the field, ignoring the heat and blindingly bright light from the orb, ignoring the fact that he is slowly being pushed away by the magnitude of the attack, ignoring the very real exhaustion in his mind and body as he continues to pour everything he has into his fields, and focusing simply on beating this challenge. He is stronger than this. He won’t succumb to a simple blast from a friend. He refuses to go down.

Elyas’ body starts to glow and burn with an intense black fire, matching the internal glow Peter’s body had mere moments before, only with much greater intensity. The dark flames continue to burn and flicker off of Elyas’ body, going so far as to pour out from his eyes, obscuring his vision until all he sees is a thick, blindingly intense blackness. As the fire within Elyas’ grows ever stronger, so too does his void field. It starts to push back against the massive psion orb with intense fury, letting out a resounding crack of thunder as the two energies collide, sending bolts of multicolored energy spiraling out in all directions, illuminating the otherwise dim camp with its super-powerful brilliance.

Elyas begins to growl and snarl against the weight of Peter’s attack, the fire within his body fully consuming him, wrapping him in an unnaturally intense blackness as he continues to lash out against the danger, like a cornered vollick. With one last guttural shout, Elyas’ void field explodes outward with a powerful crash, sending the massive psion orb flying far away at immense speeds until it comes crashing back down to the ground with an immense explosion of blue-and-purple flames and smoke. The shockwave from the explosion takes a second to reach the small camp, but it nearly blows everyone and everything away with its sheer intensity. Peter is knocked to his knees by the powerful burst of sound and wind, while Elyas is blown several feet away, the flames that had once engulfed his entire body suddenly going out as he collides with the dust below.

Sullivan and Maria collapse to the ground on their own accord to avoid the brunt of the explosion, while Joel simply ducks behind the buggy for its minor protection. The shockwave continues roaring over the camp for another few moments before it finally subsides, leaving only a faint echoing roar in its wake. Everyone in the camp slowly picks themselves up, their heads still spinning from the explosion. Peter recovers quickly and makes his way over to Elyas, offering him a hand as he comes to.

“You okay?” Peter asks as he slowly hefts Elyas onto his feet.

“Yeah, I think so,” Elyas says slowly, holding his head as it throbs with a dull ache.

Across the camp, Sullivan helps Maria get to her feet, neither of them hurt in any serious way. A noise sounds from the buggy as Joel’s head slowly pops up from behind the side door, his eyes still wide in shock. “Is anything else gonna blow up?” He asks cautiously.

“Sorry about that, Joel. Just got a little carried away back there,” Peter says bashfully. “We shouldn’t have any other problems. I think we got what we wanted.” Elyas seems to want to say something in reply to that, but he stays quiet when he sees Peter’s expression,

“If you say so,” Joel says in reply, finally coming out from behind the buggy. “Maybe we should call it a night. It’s late, and Peter’s already trying to make a second sunrise.” Everyone gets a small chuckle out of that, even Peter, who simply walks over to help his friend pick up his used ammo chambers.

As the rest of the team sets the camp up for the night, something suddenly dawns on Elyas. “Wait. Joel, you didn’t get any practice in, did you?”

Joel turns and gives Elyas a weird look. “Yeah…? I spent the whole night doing target practice.”

“No, I meant psychic practice. That was the whole idea for tonight, wasn’t it?” Elyas continues, drawing cautious glances from Maria and Peter. Joel gets quiet as he gathers the last of his ammo chambers, not replying to that. “I’m assuming you have something like telepathy, right? You can go ahead and practice on me if you want.”

Joel hesitates for a brief moment, pausing as he starts to reload his chambers. “No, I’m not a telepath,” he says slowly, causing Sullivan to perk up slightly.

“Wait, you’re not? Then how can you resist telepathic attacks?” He asks.

Joel shrugs uncomfortably, trying to smile through the awkward conversation. “I don’t know. Guess I just have a thick skull.”

“Then what do you have? Telekinesis, psionics, what?” Elyas presses. Peter places a steadying hand on his shoulder, trying to signal him to stop talking, but Joel answers anyway.

“No telekinesis, no psionics, and to save you the trouble, no constructs or aura abilities, either,” Joel says tightly, his strained smile fading, his eyes refusing to move away from the bullets in his hand as he keeps reloading his chambers with mechanical movements. “I don’t have any power.”

Elyas stutters at that, unsure how to respond. “What do you mean you don’t have power? Everyone has some kind of power, even if it’s small.”

“Well, I don’t!” Joel snaps, whirling around viciously, slamming the bullets in his hand into their chamber with finality. “I never have. So just drop it, okay?” Before anyone can respond, Joel throws his gun into its holster, snatches the Psycho Scrambler out from where it was stashed, and storms off to tinker on his own, leaving the others in either a confused or sorrowful daze.

A heavy silence falls on the others for an uncomfortably long while, before Elyas finally breaks it. “Is he being serious?” He asks quietly, as if worried that Joel might hear him from wherever he had stalked off to.

“Yes,” Peter says simply, making his way out of the makeshift camp to follow after his friend. He tries to follow Joel’s footprints in the sand, but he can barely see them through the light of the moons and stars, and even then they don’t last long, each print rapidly deforming into small mounds of sand or being blown apart by the midnight breeze. After a few moments of stumbling around near-blind, Peter finally catches up to Joel, who has found a small boulder to sit on while he works on the Scrambler.

“What do you want?” Joel asks tersely, not looking up from his work.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks, ignoring his friend’s strained tone.

“Ecstatic,” he replies dryly, fiddling with a small bolt, which quickly slips out of his driver, tumbling off into the sand. “Oh scuff it all!” Joel shouts angrily, leaving his tools and device behind to scrounge on the ground, looking for the bolt in the dim night light.

“Here, let me help you,” Peter says calmly, generating a small spark of energy between his fingers, providing better light for them to see. “What are we looking for?”

Joel pauses for a moment to stare at the tendrils of electricity bolting through Peter’s hand, causing Peter to cringe in embarrassment. “It’s a small bolt, silver, starbit tip,” Joel finally says, choosing not to say anything about his friend’s actions. Peter nods wordlessly and starts helping Joel look for the small bolt, rummaging through the sand for the tiny piece of metal.

“Here it is,” Peter says after a few moments of searching, handing the bolt to Joel with a small smile.

“Thanks,” Joel answers, taking the bolt and quickly reattaching it to the Scrambler. “Anything else?”

“You know they didn’t mean anything by it, right?” Peter says after a moment of hesitation. “Sullivan and Elyas, I mean. They didn’t know that about you.”

“I know,” Joel says through an irritated sigh, not wanting to talk about this at the moment.

“And you know it’s nothing to be ashamed about, yeah?”

“Peter…” Joel begins, his voice taut with anger, before he lets out a sharp breath. “I’ve spent my whole life wishing I was like you, you know. I’ve always wished I could be even a tenth as powerful as you. I know I never will, and that—” He breaks off, his throat tightening with emotion.

Peter nods slowly, trying to think of what to say to that. “Honestly, Joel, I’ve always been a little jealous of you,” he finally decides to say, drawing a confused glance from his friend. “I wish I could be as brilliant as you. Heck, you’ve managed to bring that piece of junk back to life, better than it was before.”

Joel tightens his grip on the Psycho Scrambler. “It was just a prototype when Gideon gave it to me. Of course, I made it better.”

“But I couldn’t do that, and neither could any of us. I wish I had even a bit of your talent, but I break everything I touch,” Peter continues with a chuckle, causing Joel to smile ruefully.

“Yeah, you really do.”

“And besides, you’re the most courageous person I know,” Peter says, taking a seat by his best friend. “You didn’t have to come with us. You could’ve stayed back home and no one would have blamed you. But you decided to join us, knowing that you would probably be outmatched. And even then, you’ve stood your ground in each fight. Heck, we probably wouldn’t have beaten the Rykers if it weren’t for you.”

Joel mulls that over for a bit, not really believing it himself. “I didn’t beat them. Sullivan did.”

“Only because you could resist Liam’s attack. You kept him at bay so the rest of us could survive. You even took Sullivan down before!” Joel tries to argue that point, but Peter keeps pressing on anyway. “You might not have any power, but that doesn’t mean you’re in our way. You’re the best shot I’ve ever seen, the smartest man I know, and the bravest. We’re all lucky to have you on our side.” He scoots a bit closer to Joel, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m lucky to have you on my side. And I’m lucky to be able to call you my best friend.”

Joel’s eyes start to water, but he refuses to cry, for now at least. “Thanks, P.K.,” he says, pulling his friend into a brief but tight hug. “You should get back to the camp, get some rest. I’ll be over in a few.”

Peter nods at that and walks off, leaving Joel alone to stare at the night sky, finally allowing the tears to fall from his eyes. He picks up the Scrambler and holds it in his vision, examining its every detail, a flood of emotions rushing through his mind as he does: anger at the device for reminding him how weak he really is, needing a machine to bring others down to his level; amazement at himself, knowing that he can make anyone as powerless as himself with the press of a button; embarrassment at himself for exploding on his friends; and relief and surprise from knowing that through it all, his best friend, the man he admires and envies so much, admires and envies him just the same.

He lays back on the boulder, letting his arm drop so he has another uninterrupted view of the night sky. He takes some time to admire the stunning beauty before him, the faded vision of a galactic arm brushing gently across a tapestry of stars, highlighted by three immensely bright moons scattered through the sky. The whole scene is enough to make him feel tiny, microscopic, meaningless. In a way it makes him feel worse, but it also somehow makes him feel all the better, knowing that everyone around him feels the same way, lost in a vast and empty cosmos that couldn’t care less about them or their worries.

In the face of such cosmic scale beauty, what do his worries really matter? Who cares if he has no power when everyone else around him is truly powerless in comparison to even a single one of the billions of stars in the sky? Even the moons laugh in the face of mere human power, no matter how strong they may be, so why should he think any less of himself?

Smiling wistfully, Joel picks himself up and heads back to camp, eager to get a good night’s sleep.

***

During the night, while everyone else sleeps peacefully, Maria receives a terrible vision. She tosses and turns in her sleep as her mind is assaulted by horrible images. She sees the Harbinger standing before her, surrounded by corpses, some familiar and some not. She can make out the mangled faces of the people of her village, her friends, and her family, as well as a few faces she remembers from one of the villages they had traveled to before. Maria shrinks back in fear as the Harbinger stalks ever closer to her, a wickedly sweet smile spread all over her face.

As the Harbinger nears, she starts to shimmer and flicker, her form becoming more and more unstable and almost alien as she continues walking, before she suddenly splits into multiple copies of herself, all surrounding Maria, clutching scythes of blood-red energy in one hand and pointing a mocking finger at her with the other. The dozens of copies say nothing as they continue to draw near. Maria tries to call out for help, but she can’t find her voice, and even if she could speak, the massacred bodies of her friends remind her that she is all alone in this battle.

She readies herself to fight, summoning her steel orb to her side. She throws her weapon at the nearest Harbinger with all of her might, but she simply bats the ball of metal aside with her outstretched finger, turning it to dust as it crashes down into the sand. Maria looks on in horror as the dozens of Harbinger copies suddenly close the distance between themselves and her, their scythes poised to strike, their gleeful smiles stretched ever wider. Maria doesn’t even have time to scream before she is cut down, ripped into a dozen pieces, and burned to ash. Her remains fall silently, joining the mass of bodies beneath the Harbingers’ feet.

***

Maria awakes with a horrified scream, instantly waking everyone else up. She clutches her sides tightly, trembling with combined fear and adrenaline. Her breaths come out as shaky whimpers as she runs her hands across her body, confirming to herself that she’s still alive before she turns her gaze to her friends as they surround her, relieved to see them alive as well.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks, kneeling by her. “What’s wrong?”

Maria shakes as she lets out a few long, soothing breaths, trying to steady her mind and push out the horrible images still haunting her vision. “I’m… I’m fine. Just a nightmare, is all.”

Sullivan walks up to her and offers her a hand, which Maria gladly takes. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks as he helps her get to her feet.

Maria nods slowly, taking a few short steps away from her friends, just to move. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just…” She trails off as she looks into the distance, her eyes full of worry. “I just want to check something.” She extends a hand and reaches out with her mind, trying to lock onto the Harbinger’s energy, horrified by what she might sense. As she scans the area for the all too familiar energy signature, her eyes go wide as she starts to pick up three distinct energies, all similar to the Harbinger’s, yet different in some ways, slightly weaker and less focused, like a distorted mirror image of the real threat.

“What is it?” Elyas asks, taking a step up to Maria.

“There’s more of her,” Maria whispers in silent horror.

“What do you mean?” Elyas asks slowly, exchanging worried glances with the others.

“The Harbinger. There’s more of her. There’s more people like her,” Maria answers rapidly, her breaths quickening, her heart pumping wildly as a growing terror fills her mind, forcing the images of dozens of Harbingers slaughtering her back into her thoughts.

“What? There can’t be…” Peter mutters, staring off in the direction Maria is facing. “Are they as strong as her, too?” Maria doesn’t react at first, her mind too caught up in the horror of this realization.

“Maria? Are these new guys as strong as the Harbinger?” Joel asks, gripping his pistol tightly, more so out of habit than anything else.

Maria slowly shakes her head, trying to bring herself back to reality. “No. No, they feel weaker, less focused somehow.”

“Then we have to find them now, before they have a chance to get any stronger,” Elyas says with finality, already on his way to pack up the camp.

“Right…” Maria mutters, trying to shake herself back to reality. If they all hurry, there’s a chance they could manage to defeat these new Harbinger copies before they can do any real harm. That thought is enough to stir her to action, using her telekinesis to clean up as fast as she can, pack up the buggy, and leap into the driver’s seat before anyone can object. As everyone piles into the vehicle, Maria slams on the accelerator, rocketing the buggy forward to chase down this new sensation, hoping beyond hope that she can manage to get there in time.

***

The sun rises quickly from the horizon, bathing the vast deserts in its harsh blue light. Various plateaus and cliff ranges cast long shadows across the expanse, providing fleeting shelter from the blazing heat of the day. Various creatures rise from their brief but restful sleep, some naturally, but many are awakened by the horrendous roar of an engine as a chrome buggy races through the deserts, leaving a billowing cloud of dust roaring in its wake.

“We’re getting close,” Maria shouts over the wind. “Be prepared for anything!”

The others nod their agreement and start preparing themselves for battle, trying to quickly center their minds, calm their racing thoughts and rising anxiety, and focus their energy. For his part, Joel loads two fresh chambers into his pistol, ensures he has a full sash of ammo to go, and pockets the rest of their explosives in a small pouch on his hip, not sure if any of that would do any good against someone with the Harbinger’s energy. He reaches for the Psycho Scrambler and clips it onto his belt, patting the strange device idly, hoping his modifications brought it back up to working condition.

Maria pushes the buggy for all it’s worth, straining the engine for more power and speed, keeping a firm mental lock on the strange echo of energy in the distance, only really half paying attention to the vast stretches of desert ahead of her. She’s barely able to see a small glint of metal on the horizon before another buggy suddenly bursts into view, followed up quickly by a hail of bullets and a few scattered psychic shots. Maria swerves the buggy out of the way of the bullets, but the psychic blasts begin to track them, following their every move and slowly gaining on them.

“Hold it steady!” Joel shouts, unclipping the Psycho Scrambler from his belt and adjusting a few of the settings. Maria makes one last swerve before locking her arms down and forcing the buggy into a straight path. Joel points the dish end of the scrambler at the projectiles, takes a moment to aim the device, and then fires, sending a rippling cloud of blue-and-yellow lightning directly into the projectiles’ path, instantly eliminating them as they make contact with the field.

“Alright, Joel!” Peter exclaims as he watches the psychic blasts fizzle out of existence. Joel gives him a confident thumbs up, trying to mask the fact that the emitter dish is starting to smoke from the excess heat and that his hand is slowly burning against the blazing-hot metal casing of the prototype weapon.

“Who the heck was that?” Elyas grinds out, scanning the surrounding area for the enemy buggy. He suddenly thrusts his arm out slightly eastward, pointing to their unknown assailants. “There they are!” In almost perfect sync, he and Sullivan leap out of the buggy, Elyas taking to the air while Sullivan hits the ground running, blasting off in the direction of their foes.

All the attackers can see before they are suddenly launched from their buggy are combined streaks of black and green rushing toward them at insane speeds. Sullivan arrives first, his fist cloaked in brilliant emerald energy as he throws a haymaker uppercut into the buggy’s front end, shattering the metal structure and blowing it at least thirty feet into the sky and sending the assailants spiraling out of their vehicle, screaming for dear life. Sullivan skids to a halt, drifts around on his other hand, then propels himself into the sky with a mighty leap, catching up with Elyas and rounding up most of the attackers with a single, massive hand construct while Elyas nabs the others with his telekinesis, holding them tightly in a pitch-black vice grip.

Maria and the others arrive just in time to see Sullivan and Elyas return to the ground with their captives in tow. “Here’s our problem,” Sullivan says, gritting his teeth against several attempts to break free from his construct.

“Who are they?” Peter asks as he and the others step out of their buggy, wincing slightly as the other buggy finally crashes back down with a small explosion a few yards away.

One of the captives scoffs, as if he was offended they didn’t know who he was. “We’re the Vipers, kid. The greatest bandits this side of the Garrick Wastes.”

“Bandits, eh?” Elyas intones darkly, tightening his grip on his batch of Vipers. “You definitely picked the wrong group to rob today.”

“Vipers…” Sullivan murmurs, examining the captured bandits closely, realizing where he recognizes some of them from.

And it seems they remember him, too. “You,” one of the bandits, a crazed man with a sprawling viper tattoo spread across his face says dangerously. “Back to do more of your masters’ dirty work, you dog?”

Sullivan lets out a strained breath and constricts his psychic hand, crushing the bandit just slightly. “I’m no dog. I put those Rykers down with my own hands. I work for myself, and myself alone,” he grinds out.

“Easy, Sully,” Maria whispers cautiously, a mild sting of pain coursing through her body as she remembers what happened last time Sullivan lost his temper. Sullivan nods slowly, taking a second to breathe before loosening his grip just slightly.

“What do you guys want from us?” Joel asks, his pistol slowly sweeping between each bandit idly. He doesn’t plan to shoot, but it would be better to be prepared.

“I would assume that much is obvious,” one of the bandits remarks through mangled teeth, his eyes a little too focused. “What else do you think bandits would be doing out this far? Hiking?” As the bandit continues to speak, his eyes get even more intense as he stretches out with his mind, slowly casting a deeply exhausting aura on his targets’ minds. Peter begins to sway, ever so slightly tired, but other than that, the field seems to have no effect. Sullivan and Elyas continue to stand tall, barely even noticing the effort to drain their will, while Joel is completely unaffected.

“Cute trick,” Maria says cockily, walking up to the surprised bandit and placing a single finger on his forehead. “But your will is weak. Sleep.” Instantly, the bandit is knocked out cold, slumped forward, only being held up by Elyas’ telekinesis, which he quickly drops as soon as he sees the threat is eliminated. The bandit plummets to the ground face-first, but he still doesn’t wake up. He simply continues to slumber peacefully, blissfully unaware of the world around him. “Anyone else?” Maria asks, waving a hand lazily in the direction of a few more bandits, drawing concerned looks from each. “Didn’t think so. Now one of you answer the question before I make you. What are you doing out here?”

The Vipers continue silent for a few moments longer, unwilling to reveal any secrets, but when Maria starts making her way over to a new victim, the man with the sprawling tattoo speaks up, saving his ally from whatever Maria was about to do to him. “Fine, we’ll talk. Happy?”

“Not until you actually say something useful,” Elyas says softly, somehow conveying more darkness and intensity with a whisper than could ever be conveyed through a shout.

The tattooed man glares at Elyas for a moment before continuing his explanation. “Truth is, we’re on the run. We’ve already lost two whole divisions in just a few days’ time, and now we’re being hunted down. We’re low on supplies, so when we found you, we went in for the kill.”

“Hilarious,” Elyas mumbles, considering how well the endeavor turned out for the Vipers. “Who’s hunting you? Is it a woman? Red energy, blades like this?” He walks up to the man and summons a scythe of pure ebon energy just inches away from his neck.

The man shrinks away from the lethal blade but shakes his head. “No. It’s not a woman. It’s a man, one of ours. Just the other night, a fellow named Bobby went insane, massacred his whole division. He didn’t even seem to care that he’d just murdered his brothers. He smiled about the whole thing when he came for us, spouting some insanity about culling the weak and guiding us to our deaths.”

“That sounds about right,” Maria whispers, mostly to herself. She shudders as she remembers the horrifying sensation of multiple copies of the Harbinger’s energy floating around this area. Odds are, whoever this ‘Bobby’ person was had run into the Harbinger, but instead of being slaughtered, he’d been empowered somehow. But why? Why would she spare any life, let alone strengthen one? Had she perhaps known this man somehow?

“So where’s this Bobby guy now, huh?” Elyas continues, interrupting Maria’s train of thought. “Odds are he’ll lead us to our target.”

“You don’t want nothing to do with him, man,” another bandit says quietly, a distant and haunted look in his eyes. “Whatever he is now, he ain’t human. He’ll slaughter us all if he finds us.”

“Well where is he?” Peter asks, trying to keep his voice calm despite the rising tension he can feel in his chest. “Maybe we can stop him.”

The tattooed man scoffs at that. “It’s your funeral if you try. But if you absolutely must know, we ditched him back in the Grand Maze.” He juts his head back, motioning toward a distant formation of massive stone plateaus and canyons about three miles away. “Odds are he’ll find his way out eventually, or just blow the place when he loses patience. Either way, staying here is risky, and going back is suicide. But if you insist on going, we won’t stop you,” he says with a sneer.

“Then I guess you’d better get running,” Elyas says, dropping the bandits he was holding. “Because we’re going to that Maze, and I’m sure you fine gentlemen wouldn’t want to be anywhere near here when the fireworks start.”

One of the bandits shoots Elyas an incredulous stare. “You expect us to travel the wastes on foot?”

Sullivan smirks at that, dropping his own load of bandits. “Well, your vehicle certainly won’t take you far, and I don’t know about the others, but I for one don’t plan on sharing a buggy with people who tried to kill me.”

“Good luck, fellas,” Joel says, waving dismissively as he hops into the buggy, starting it up and motioning for the others to join him. Sullivan and Elyas quickly jump into their seats, followed by Maria and Peter after a moment’s hesitation.

Before they leave, however, Peter reaches into their supplies and tosses the bandits a small bundle of rations. “It’s not much, but it should last you to the next town,” he says kindly as the buggy roars off towards the Grand Maze, leaving the Vipers stunned and confused.

After a quick three-mile drive, Joel slows the buggy to a halt just outside one of the many entrances—or possibly exits—of the Grand Maze. The strange landmark had seemed massive from a distance, but now that they had arrived, everyone can come to terms with just how immense the Maze truly is. It seems to stretch for miles in every direction, even upwards. The stone making up the Maze is a beautiful shade of mottled reds and greens, forming an almost watery pattern that spans the entirety of the landmark, making the maze that much more exotic and beautiful, as well as much more confusing to navigate.

“I can see why this guy got lost in here,” Peter remarks as he cranes his neck back in a futile attempt to take in the full expanse of the Grand Maze. “Everyone, be on guard. Who knows where this guy will pop out of.”

Maria nods, stretching her senses out in an effort to get a firm lock on Bobby’s location, but only managing to get a fleeting echo. “He’s not using enough energy for me to track him. I think I know about where he is, but I can’t be sure, and I definitely can’t guide us to him.”

“I could fly up and do a quick once-over of the Maze, see if I can find him,” Elyas offers, which Maria agrees to with a nod. Elyas wastes no time in rocketing up into the sky, surrounding himself in a burning black aura of psychic power. He manages to reach the top of the Maze after a much longer flight than he’d initially expected, then proceeds to quickly fly over the many winding twists, sprawling canyons, and deep trenches of the Maze, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

Try as he might, he can’t seem to find Bobby anywhere, let alone sense his energy. Elyas’ skills in that regard are much less refined than Maria’s, so he knows that if she can’t sense their target’s location, he doesn’t have a chance. After two or three more quick scans of the area, Elyas finally makes his way back to the others to deliver the bad news.

“No luck. This Bobby guy just dropped off the face of the planet,” he says disappointedly.

“Well. I guess we’re taking the long way,” Sullivan says with a sort of strained finality.

“Fun,” Joel says, hopping back into the buggy and driving it into a small outcropping just behind their entrance point, to protect it from any monsters or bandits that may be tracking them. He then grabs a satchel, fills it with as much food, water, and ammo he can, then slings it over his shoulder, ready to depart.

“Can you still sense about where Bobby is?” Peter asks Maria.

Maria shrugs noncommittally. “About, yeah, but again, I can’t guarantee I can lead us to him.”

Peter nods reassuringly. “As long as we have a general idea where to go, we’ll find him eventually. Come on, let’s get moving before night comes. I don’t want to get lost here in the dark.” Everyone nods and mutters their agreement, following Maria as she attempts to guide her friends based on nothing but a vague feeling and a prayer, slowly but surely delving deeper into the Grand Maze.

***

Many hours go by as everyone makes the slow, arduous journey through the Grand maze. Between fending off the constant attacks by feral predators, avoiding the many natural traps and pitfalls of such a huge expanse of cliffs and canyons and caves, as well as stopping for frequent navigation checks from Elyas and Maria combined, they had made very slow progress, but progress nonetheless. With each turn, Maria gets a stronger lock on Bobby’s energy, and as they continue their determined march through the seemingly endless labyrinth the way through becomes more and more clear.

About three hours into the maze, after another brief delay to fight off a relatively small pack of vollicks, the team stops for a quick meal to refresh and rehydrate themselves. As she eats, Maria stretches out with her senses, straining to lock onto the faint echo of the Harbinger’s power she had been following this whole time.

“Anything?” Sullivan asks between bites of his dried meat, hard bread, and precious few sips of water.

Maria takes a while to answer, her mind split between tracking down Bobby and trying to hold a conversation. “I think I’m getting something stronger now,” she says slowly. She reaches a hand out and lets it drift in the direction of the echo she’s feeling, eventually letting it settle on one of the many paths forward. “Somewhere in there. He feels closer now, maybe just a hundred yards or so. His signal is still a bit hazy, but he’s over there.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Elyas asks with newly refreshed vigor, hopping to his feet. “Let’s go get him.”

“Do we have to rush?” Joel asks tiredly, standing up and stretching his aching legs and sore arms. He takes a quick sip of water, realizing how low his canteen is when only a few minute drops touch his tongue.

Sullivan grunts as he gets to his feet, doing a few quick stretches himself. “Think of it this way, the faster we take this guy down, the faster we get out of this maze.”

“Yeah, Sully’s right,” Maria says, clearly spent as well. “Let’s get moving while we still have some daylight left. Hopefully we can get out of here and into a town by nightfall.”

With that, the team continues trudging forward, using the slowly sharpening echoes of Bobby’s power as a guide. They barely have to travel another twenty yards before Maria senses a sudden spike in his energy, followed quickly by the rumbling sounds of a nearby explosion. Elyas quickly flies ahead to see what lies in store for them and is horrified to see the scattered remains of what once was a man spread across the cliffside. His gaze slowly follows the distinct trail of crimson staining the coppery ground until it settles on the man they’d been searching for, a man bathed in red—both from his burning crimson aura and the smears of blood staining his tattered clothes and thinning black hair. The man lowers his outstretched hand, a sinister sneer spread across his blood-splattered face before he slowly turns to face Elyas.

“There you are…” Elyas says slowly, lowering himself to the ground, a blade of pure black energy forming in his hand.

The man who was once Bobby spreads his arms wide, a small laugh escaping his dried and cracked throat. “Another lost soul in need of guidance,” he declares in a jagged wheeze, his voice sounding unnaturally coarse and broken, as if he hadn’t had a drop of water for weeks.

A brief flash of green heralds Sullivan’s arrival, soon followed by the others as they all enter the wide, near-circular opening in the maze. Maria stops short as she sees the scattered remains of Bobby’s latest victim, her eyes wide in horror and disgust. Peter steps forward so he’s just behind Elyas, his hand carefully raised, ready either to strike or soothe depending on how things play out.

“Are you Bobby?” Peter asks, doing his best to ignore the blood stains that seem to cover every corner of the stone arena they’ve found themselves in.

“The man known as Bobby was weak, unworthy of either existence or power. I am what remains, a being of pure light, power incarnate, the guide to all unworthy souls…” the man declares, gesturing grandly as he speaks, finally settling his pose with a single outstretched finger pointing towards Peter. “You may call me Valkyrie, for that is my truest identity.”

“I don’t care what your name is, pal,” Elyas says through gritted teeth. “We’re not here for you. We want your master. Where is the Harbinger?”

The Valkyrie lets out a loud, uproarious laugh, a sound somehow both brittle and strong at the same time. “You are not worthy of my master, none of you! The Harbinger’s power is immense, my master’s might infinite! None of you can compare, except, possibly…” He turns his intense gaze toward Peter, the sheer weight of his stare an almost tangible thing, forcing Peter to stagger a few steps back before he gathers himself again. “You.”

Peter stammers for a moment, unsure what to say in reply. First, the Harbinger wanted my power, and now this guy… Why do they want me? How do they even know who I am? “Listen. Bobby, Valkyrie, whoever you are. I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt anyone here. Just tell us where we can find your master, and stop all of this senseless killing. No one has to die here.”

Elyas scoffs under his breath but says nothing. The Valkyrie chuckles maliciously, licking his chapped lips before he speaks. “That’s where you are mistaken.” He spreads his arms out wide once again, allowing himself to soar into the sky. “All must be culled! This world is weak, full of the unworthy!” He lowers his gaze towards Peter, keeping his arms spread just to his sides. “All but you! I know of your power, but now I must see it! Face me with honor, or you shall face your demise!” He flicks a finger towards his new victims, and suddenly a burst of crimson-red energy explodes up from the ground just in front of Peter, shooting up like a bloodstained spire.

Peter leaps away from the spike with a yelp, while Elyas leaps into the air, ready to take on the Valkyrie himself. He bolts towards his target with blinding speed, but before he can so much as wind up to strike, the Valkyrie brushes him aside with a powerful wave of psychic energy, blowing Elyas into one of the nearby plateaus. The Valkyrie gestures lazily towards Elyas, flipping two fingers upward and summoning another massive spire of ruby. Elyas barely manages to dodge the attack and retaliates with several slashes of his own, each one easily deflected by the Valkyrie, sending the blades of ebon energy spiraling off into the arena, forcing everyone to scatter away.

Sullivan manages to raise his Flash Blaze aura just in time to block one of the slashes before it strikes him. He turns around to face the Valkyrie from below, charging up one of his constructs. “Get back down here!” Sullivan shouts as he launches the emerald-green hand upward, snatching his target and slamming him back down to the ground, leaving a small crater from the impact.

A small, broken laugh trickles out from beneath the green hand as the Valkyrie’s bloodstained aura slowly outshines Sullivan’s construct before it shatters into a thousand broken shards and sparks. The Valkyrie rises to his feet, barely a scratch on him. “You’re strong, but not strong enough. My master isn’t interested in weak lost souls like you.” He slowly turns on his heel, barely glancing at Sullivan through the corner of his eye. “He only wants one, and that one is not you.” Without so much as a gesture, the Valkyrie sends Sullivan flying down one of the many twisting canyons leading out of the area before he summons another spire to block off the entrance.

“Sully!” Maria shouts before she, too, is blasted down one of the canyons by the Valkyrie’s telekinesis and sealed off with a thorn of bloody energy.

“You will wait your turn,” the Valkyrie says with a smirk, reacting instantly to a black claw slash from Elyas, batting the projectile aside like a bug. He grabs Elyas with his mind and throws him into a small cave opening, sending spire after spire to thoroughly trap that particularly annoying pest.

“You distract him. I’ll get in range and Scramble him,” Joel says to Peter, reaching for the Psycho Scrambler on his belt.

“On it,” Peter says, summoning two psion orbs and hurling them at the Valkyrie, who simply pops the projectiles with a finger.

“Come now, don’t toy with me,” he says, suddenly rushing up to Peter’s side, his arm wrapped in serrated energy and resting just inches away from Peter’s neck. “You and I both know this shouldn’t be a fight for you. End this, already.”

Peter leaps back away from the Valkyrie, panting in fear. He wants me to end this? What’s wrong with this guy? Peter dodges a small blast from the Valkyrie, his mind racing with a dozen conflicting thoughts. He wrestles with the idea that he could simply kill the man with probably nothing more than a finger, while probably collapsing the whole maze in the process. He tries to keep dodging the constant barrage of attacks coming his way, all the while trying to keep the Valkyrie’s focus off of Joel, while simultaneously trying to think of a way to free his friends if this plan doesn’t work out.

And, behind it all, nagging at the back of his mind and interrupting all other trains of thought, one single statement stands out to him above all the rest. ‘He only wants one.’ ‘He’, not she. Either the Valkyrie had slipped in his speech, or he was serving a different master, a man. Then how are he and the Harbinger connected? Peter’s mind continues to wander even as he keeps avoiding the Valkyrie’s onslaught of spires, blasts, waves, and psychic grips. He knows who the Harbinger is, somehow. Did she not give him this power? If not her, then who? Does ‘He’ somehow connect back to the Harbinger? Is ‘He’ her master, too?

Finally, Peter slips up, allowing himself to be too distracted by his wandering thoughts and paying for it with a faceful of psychic energy, nothing truly lethal, but enough to genuinely hurt. “I told you not to play with me!” The Valkyrie shouts, bolting ahead to strike at Peter personally, dodging Joel’s attempt to Scramble him in the process. “Fight like you mean it, you coward!”

Peter just barely manages to dodge the bladed arm-strike before it impales his chest, leaving the Valkyrie wide open for a counter. Peter presses a hand to his back, ignoring the searing pain and overwhelming sense of terror his aura exudes and charges a single, massive blast of power, blowing the Valkyrie far away, through one of the canyon walls, and into an entirely different section of the Grand Maze. The recoil of the blast blows Peter back as well, but he manages to stay upright, shaking the excess energy and pain from his hand.

The combined shock and pain from Peter’s attack break the Valkyrie’s attention on his spires, weakening them just enough to allow Sullivan and Elyas to burst free from their prisons, Sullivan with a single mighty punch that shatters his spire into a million shards, and Elyas with a barrage of animalistic claw slashes that rend his cage into thousands of ribbons. Sullivan wastes no time breaking Maria’s prison as well, freeing the entire team once again.

“Where is he?” Elyas snarls, his body enveloped in a burning black aura, small flickers of black flame leaking from his eyes and hands.

“Over there,” Peter says, motioning towards the large crater in one of the Maze’s many walls, a little taken aback by Elyas’ sudden ferocity.

Elyas starts to fly to the hole, but the Valkyrie suddenly erupts from the other side of the wall, his clothes torn and burned, his flesh ripped raw from being blown through so many tons of stone, but still very much alive, and still as powerful as ever. “That’s better…” He wheezes happily. “But it’s not your true strength. Give me your all! Prove your worth!”

Elyas lets out a fierce shout and launches himself towards the Valkyrie. “Shut up!” He screams as he clashes blades with the other man, even more wisps of black fire pouring from his body. Elyas tears away from the Valkyrie’s blade and strikes once, twice, three times, each time with more ferocity than the last, each strike blocked with simplistic ease as the Valkyrie simply moves his arm to deflect the blades of black energy. Elyas snarls and clashes blades once more, this time using his momentum to spin around his target, summoning another blade of energy in his left, moving so quickly it seems he simply warped behind the Valkyrie, the blade of energy already plunged through his left side.

The Valkyrie lets out a pained shriek as Elyas drives his blade further into the man’s kidney before tearing it out with a single vicious motion, dropping his other sword and trapping his wounded enemy in a dark psychic grip, forcing him to plummet back down to the arena floor at immense speed. The Valkyrie screams as the impact tears even further into his already open side, adding his blood to the scattered mess he’d left before.

Before anyone can even blink, Elyas is suddenly on top of the Valkyrie, a scythe-like blade held inches from the man’s neck. “I’ll only ask this once. Where is the Harbinger?” He intones dangerously, the flaming aura of black energy suddenly and completely dropped, returning light to the faded white of his jacket and the gleaming silver of his hair.

Peter slowly makes his way up to Elyas, placing a steadying hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Easy,” he mutters, not wanting to do or say anything to set Elyas off.

The Valkyrie chuckles, a small trickle of blood pouring down from a gash at the back of his head. “I will never be broken by the unworthy,” he says, though he remains motionless, bleeding profusely into the dirty stone.

Elyas sneers, baring his teeth like the fangs of a vollick. “Is that so?” He asks, his voice eerily calm, his eyes frighteningly dark. Peter starts to say something, but it’s too late. Elyas quickly winds up his scythe and slashes it across the Valkyrie’s body, splitting the man and the stone below him in half with a single, clean swing.

“Elyas!” Peter shouts in combined surprise, fear, and anguish, leaping away from the wild scythe to avoid being struck down himself. “What in the scorching winds has gotten into you?” He demands, his emotions finally settling into righteous outrage.

“He would’ve killed many more if we simply let him go,” Elyas says quietly, casually, as if he hadn’t just murdered a man.

“Are you out of your mind?” Maria shouts, rushing up to Elyas, her face displaying just as much if not more fury than Peter’s. “You didn’t even give him a chance to surrender. You just—” She gags slightly, not wanting to finish her sentence, and desperately not wanting to look at the rent body below her, a sickeningly gleeful smile spread on its lifeless face.

“Peter already gave him a chance to stand down, and he almost died for it,” Elyas points out, more confused than anything else. “Why do you even care? You didn’t know him, and he’s killed god knows how many people by now. I mean look at this place! It’s crawling with victims! And you’re mad at me for putting him down?”

Sullivan slowly makes his way forward, clearing his throat to get the other’s attention. “It’s getting dark out. If we want to leave the Maze and make camp before nightfall, we’ll have to move fast.” He sees Maria start to object and raises a calming hand. “We’ll talk about this later. For now, let’s just worry about getting out of here.” He doesn’t even wait for the others to agree or disagree, he simply turns and marches forward, tracing their path back to the entrance of the Grand Maze, trusting the others will fall in line eventually.

Elyas joins Sullivan first, barely skipping a beat, but the other three hesitate more, staring at each other in surprise or horror. Maria is speechless, Peter still too furious to speak, while Joel is simply stunned, unsure what he thinks of the whole situation. “You have to admit, he has a point. I mean, he made it clear he looked forward to killing many more people. Maybe this was for the best?” Maria whips around, about to say something biting in reply, but Peter grabs her hand and puts it down before she can say anything.

“Later,” he says, straining to keep his temper in check, unable to look away from the split body of the man once called Bobby. “We’ll have plenty of time to chew him out later. Let’s just get out of here.” He finally manages to break himself free of his macabre stupor and starts off towards Sullivan and Elyas, trailed by Maria and Joel, leaving the split body behind to be claimed by the beasts of the Grand Maze.