Death: Genesis

Carlos sat at the bar, staring down at the brown liquid in his glass. His shoulders were slumped, and his dark hair made a curtain around his face. He didn’t usually drink, but it was a special occasion. After all, he’d just found out that he’d lost one of the few people in the entire world he considered a friend. As such, he felt justified in needing a drink.

“There you are,” came a familiar voice. Carlos didn’t need to turn to know it was Abby. “What’s going on? I was looking for you so we could go train.”

“Not in the mood,” he said, still not looking up.

Abby slid onto the stool next to his, but she didn’t say anything. Not at first. Finally, after a few seconds, she asked, “What’s going on? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Found his body,” Carlos said. “Marc. My friend. His daughter, too. Same with the neighbor kids. The whole building was reduced to rubble.”

“Zeke?”

Carlos nodded, feeling everything go numb. “Yeah,” he said. “Who knew tearing a canyon through a city would kill so many people, huh?”

“That’s not fair…”

“Twelve-hundred and three,” Carlos stated.

“What?”

“That’s how many people were killed when he let loose,” Carlos said. “Twelve-hundred people. One swing of that club of his. He didn’t even think about the consequences. He just…he just did it. And all those people died because he couldn’t be bothered to think for two seconds.”

“He didn’t have a choice,” Abby said, though her voice betrayed her doubt.

“Do you really think that?” he asked, finally turning to look at her. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, evidence of the tears he’d shed that day. “Do you honestly believe that was the only way?”

“I think –”

Carlos slammed his hand down on the bar, shouting, “He could have waited! We were right there! We could have taken that bastard just like we took the demon! But no. No. Zeke had to be the hero. No, that’s not even right. He didn’t do it to be the hero. That’s the fucked up part of it all, isn’t it? He just didn’t think. He just did it. And twelve-hundred people died. Including my friend. Including his little girl. And countless others with stories just like theirs. Do you really think that was acceptable?”

“No. It’s not.”

“But who’s going to hold him accountable, right? Nobody,” Carlos went on, his throat ragged and his words coming out like sandpaper. He reached down, grabbed the glass, and raised it. “To a bunch of people that didn’t deserve to die. And the man-child who killed them.”

Then, he tipped the contents into his mouth and swallowed. The liquor went down like fire, and he coughed.

Abby said, “Don’t do something stupid.”

“Like what?” he asked, glaring at her. “You think I’m going to mess with your boyfriend? I don’t have a death wish.”

“Then what do you want from me?” she asked. “People make mistakes. He didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“As if that matters,” was Carlos’s bitter response. “Not meaning it doesn’t bring them back, does it?”

Then, he pushed away from the bar and rose to unsteady feet. Even before Abby had arrived, he’d had too much to drink. The last one had simply tipped him over the edge.

“Look – it’s not your fault,” he said, slurring his words – probably as much due to his anger as to inebriation. “But I can’t look at you right now. So, I’m going to go. Please don’t follow me.”

After slapping a couple of coins on the bar, Carlos turned and wove his way through the room. There were a few other patrons there, but it being the middle of the day, the bar was far from crowded. After a few seconds, he found his way out on the street, where he was confronted by another familiar presence. Pudge, the infernal bear, leaned against the sandstone wall, looking like he was asleep. Carlos knew better. The pedestrians that made their home in that section of the city did not; otherwise, they might’ve cleared the street altogether.

It wasn’t difficult to see why Pudge hadn’t followed Abby inside. At twenty feet from snout to rump, he was far too large to fit through the door. He probably could have made his own entrance, if that was what he’d wanted, but the bear had been on his best behavior since taking up residence in the desert city. He hadn’t even eaten a single person’s face, which given what Carlos had seen during their descent into the caverns beneath the keep out in the desert as well as the bear’s actions in the demon realm, was an accomplishment.

He shook his head and stepped into the crowd of pedestrians, letting the flow take him away from the bar. Nearby, he could see the buildings that had been ruined by Zeke’s skill. More than a thousand dead, and they still hadn’t uncovered all the bodies. Carlos had been helping for weeks, all the while hoping that they’d find some survivors. They had discovered a handful, but they were few and far between. Most had died the moment the skill hit, exploded by the sheer force of its passing. The others had perished under the rubble.

As he wandered in a daze, the inebriation started to wear off. That was one of the problems with attaining more power. At a certain point, the alcohol just stopped doing its job. Carlos had long since passed that point, and so, when he did manage to get drunk, it wore off in a matter of minutes, as opposed to hours. In this case, it was just in time, because as he sobered up, he realized that he was being followed.

Carlos didn’t immediately react. Instead, he maintained his pace, even stumbling a bit here and there to further the illusion that he was still under the influence of the alcohol. All the while, though, he kept his eyes peeled for a likely escape route. Or better, an ambush point. It only took a little more than five minutes for him to find the latter.

He veered down an alley, tripping over the scattered rubble of a nearby collapsed building. He fell to the ground, his chest heaving as he forced himself to vomit. That was when he felt them enter the alley.

Two men, judging by their heavy footsteps. Evolved, too, but not elites. Carlos was not in the mood to be merciful.

In only an instant, he’d embraced three skills. First, he used [Umbral Steps], stepping through the shadows to get out of harm’s way. Then, he wrapped himself in shadows with [Umbral Phantom], both to obscure his position as well as protect him from stray attacks. Finally, he activated [Shadow Spear]. Before either of the two figures knew what was happening, a half-dozen spikes of pure darkness erupted from the ground, pinning them to the nearby walls.

Their wails of pain and surprise filled the air, and Carlos could tell they were trying to utilize various skills. But they were too distracted by the sudden turn of events. He stepped out of the shadows, saying, “Stop screaming. If you try anything, I will rip you to pieces. You know who I am. You know what I can do.”

The two men – one tall and husky, the other short and spindly – stopped screaming immediately. To Carlos’s annoyance, the dual personas he’d long cultivated had been revealed as one and the same, completely destroying any benefit of maintaining the ruse. He had no idea who’d let the proverbial cat out of the bag, but if he ever found out, he would make them regret it. In any case, with his identity out in the open, there was no reason to hold back. More than a few times since being back, he’d put his skills on full display. Anyone who was anyone knew precisely what he could do, now.

“Who are you, and why are you following me?” he demanded, stepping closer to the bigger man. He didn’t answer right away, and with a thought, the shadow spear began to twist, eliciting another cry of pain. “I asked you a question. Who are you? Why are you following me? Answer, and I’ll end you quick. Stay silent, and I’ll make this last.”

“I see you haven’t lost your sense of drama,” came another voice from the alley’s mouth. Carlos jerked his head up, and he saw a familiar face staring back at him. “You don’t call. You don’t write. You seem to have abandoned us entirely. I must confess, the Eyes are distraught. Many have begun to wonder if you are going to be a problem. So, tell me, Carlos – are you going to be a problem?”

Carlos knew better than to hesitate. Keeping his eyes on the newcomer, he withdrew his skills, and the two men collapsed onto the ground. “Lucius,” he spat. “Should’ve known it was you.”

“In the flesh, dear boy,” the man answered, spreading his arms wide. Carlos scowled at him, noting that he hadn’t changed a bit in the year since he’d last seen him. He was still tall, whipcord thin, and blonde. He had high cheekbones, sunken, blue eyes, and an air of authority he wore like a cloak.

“I thought you were in Salvation,” Carlos said.

“Clearly not,” was the man’s reply. “Are you going to come quietly? Or am I going to have to drag you back to the Nest like an unruly child?”

Carlos desperately wanted the man to try. He was in just the sort of mood to throw caution to the wind and fight it out in the streets. But he knew that such a fight wouldn’t happen without incurring significant collateral damage. And given his recent conversation with Abby, he knew the cost of that kind of thing.

“Can’t you just ask your questions here?” he asked. “I have no desire to report back in.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Lucius said. “You know as well as anyone that what you want is irrelevant. What they want, they get.”

Carlos sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s get this over with, then. And if this is a trap of some kind, I can promise you that you will not survive. I might not make it either, but I’ll make that trade every time.”

“So hostile!” laughed Lucius. “I like it. I always said you were too soft. I’m glad to see that you’ve seen the error of your ways. Still flitting about trying to pretend you’re a superhero from Earth? Or was that just a phase?”

“Shut up,” Carlos muttered, striding forward. When he passed Lucius, he asked, “You coming? It’d be a shame if you weren’t able to take credit for bringing me in.”

“You wound me, sir,” Lucious responded with mock affront. “I merely worried for my protégé.”

Carlos snorted in derision. “Whatever,” he said. He hadn’t been Lucius’s student for years, and that wasn’t going to change just because the man suddenly reappeared in Jariq. Perhaps if he’d never left, things would be different. But he had, and so, they weren’t.

“I can tell you that they’re very interested in your companions,” Lucius said, hurrying to catch up to Carlos. “Very interested. Was the Cataclysm really a single skill? And by a man who wasn’t even level twenty-five yet?”

“Yes.”

“Marvelous!” Lucius exclaimed. Then, seeing Carlos’s reaction, he amended his statement with a much more subdued, “Not for the people in The Sea, of course. Bad luck, that. Very bad luck.”

Carlos sighed. Despite his long absence, Lucius hadn’t really changed much. But then again, the man had been old even before he’d found Carlos so long ago, so expecting him to change over the course of a few years was probably a vain hope. A little more respect for the dead would have been nice, though.

“And that monster that follows him around – is it really sapient?” continued Lucius.

“Pudge? I think so,” Carlos said. “But it’s hard to tell because he can’t talk.”

“No! The zombie!” Lucius crowed. “She speaks like a human, from what I hear. But I’ve heard that some believe she’s being actively controlled by her master. Liches are supposed to be able to do such a thing.”

“What? No!” Carlos said. “She’s just a girl.”

“That is patently untrue,” Lucius stated. “It’s said that she consumes the flesh of infants and feasts on still-beating hearts.”

Carlos’s breath caught at that last bit. Rumors about Talia were common enough; she was a revenant, after all, and that sort of thing didn’t pass without plenty of gossip. However, most of those rumors were ridiculous enough that they’d become easy to ignore. But that last part? About the hearts? That cut too close to home. As far as Carlos knew, Talia hadn’t had to eat one since arriving in Jariq. So, that meant that the Crystal Spiders were getting their information from elsewhere.

“No,” he said. “Like I said, she’s just a girl who’s had some bad things happen to her. She doesn’t eat babies or hearts or anything else you might have heard.”

“Well, that’s just disappointing,” said Lucius.

Then, he fell silent as they continued along their way, eventually passing the boundaries of The Sea and entering into the Crystal Spiders’ territory. It was colloquially known as The Nest, and for obvious reasons, but Carlos had always hated that name. Still, they had provided him with direction and a home when he’d desperately needed both, so he owed the organization quite a lot.

He and Lucius quickly found their way to a non-descript building near the center of the territory. Unlike the rest of Jariq, the Nest wasn’t decorated with garish graffiti or unnecessary adornments. Instead, the surface of the territory existed as a façade, disguising the access points to the tunnels beneath the city. That, Carlos knew, was the real Nest, and he knew the layout like the back of his hand. Every spider did.

That was the first test, after all. Anyone who wanted to join was blindfolded and escorted into the center of the Nest. There, they were told to survive. Only ten would be allowed to advance. Carlos’s group had numbered well over a hundred. Four, including him, had survived to receive their tattoo. It had taken four months, and in that time, he’d learned to navigate the tunnels with enviable precision.

So, he didn’t hesitate before turning and entering a particular building. With sure steps, he found his way to the basement, where he moved a stack of boxes aside to reveal the entrance to the Nest. He descended with confidence, Lucius at his heels.

“Stop smiling,” Carlos muttered. He hadn’t turned around, but he could practically feel the man’s grin.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Stop it.”

Lucius huffed before saying, “You really are no fun at all.”

“I really wish you’d have just left me alone,” was Carlos’s reply.

“Not an option,” Lucius said. “Even I can’t refuse an order.”

Carlos nodded. He knew that as well as anyone. The Spiders had the advantage of unquestioned loyalty. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t returned. But now, for all his delays, he was precisely where he hadn’t wanted to be – at the mercy of someone else.