I tumble through the void, pulled along by the

  confluence of gravitic forces and dark energy. I flail helplessly as my

  body is stretched and compressed by the vortex, cracks appearing in my

  HUD as the metal of my armor strains and creaks from the tidal forces.

  Where the hell is Chagri? He was holding on to me when the metal gave

  way. He wouldn't be flailing his arms like a child if he were in my

  position.

  I

  desperately try to move my arms, numb from the compression of nerves

  and stretching of blood vessels, to grab onto the pieces of debris,

  broken hull and carcasses of Oghuz fighters, flying past me. Violet

  particles dance around me, intermingling with the yellow streaks of

  Rakshasa knights and Oghuz jets, desperate to avoid the vortex, dancing

  around each other. A yellow blur races across the void at the edge of my

  vision, wings of plasma illuminating the void as it rushes towards me.

  Then it rams directly into me.

  A

  hideous three eyed face with bone white chitins pierced with ruby gems

  and jewels fills my vision, great wings of flame on its back, a vicious

  smile filling its face as it raises its fist, garbed in diamond knuckle

  dusters, and prepare to slam it into my face. Oh shit. Sensation

  returns to my limbs and I realize that I was still holding onto my hard

  light sword. I yank my arm and change my grip so that its fist will

  meet the flat of my sword, and lock my armor, the thin layer of

  semi-liquid gel under the metal pressurizing and the artificial muscles

  stiffening.

  The

  diamond knuckle dusters smash into the crystalized light of my sword

  and I am sent flying. I smash through debris so hard I fly out the other

  side of the metal. The knight blazes behind me, grabbing me by the

  shoulder and slams its other fists garbed in diamond into my chest, the

  metal of my chest plate shattering like a ceramic plate falling to the

  ground. I smash through the split hull of a battle cruiser and it

  shatters at my impact, cracking the metal at my back and revealing the

  artificial muscles underneath.

  When

  I land on a frigate, burning but still intact, my entire body is aching

  in pain. I think I broke some ribs even though my armor was locked. I

  unlock my armor, my limbs regaining their ability to move, and I pant

  and exhale raggedly with the occasional sob exiting. I grasp my

  bodysuit directly over my heart and it feels like it's gonna explode out

  of my chest. "Ch-chagri! Where are you! I know you're alive! Please hear me!" My voice is hoarse, my lungs exhausted and my throat is dry. "Fu… Fuck! Please! I know you are alive!"

  Then

  a voice breaks through my mind. It's an electromagnetic transmission

  instead of a resonance, a raspy guttural growl in my ear. "Do not worry, knigh-knife. Your friend is alive. I want to fell both of you at once. Now that would be glorious."

  I

  feel another impact on the hull, a humanoid composed of dark metal with

  one of his metallic limbs torn off.. I nearly cry when I realize it's

  Chagri. I stand up and I nearly collapse again, my step shaky as I

  approach the figure and reach out my hand. Chagri clasps his remaining

  hand in mine and stands up, his metallic frame glowing from plasma. "Holy shit… Are you okay?" His voice box is trembling as he speaks. I respond with silence, the honest answer is no and he gets the message. "Thought so. Where are you damn guards?" My HUD is barely readable with how cracked the screen is but they are close, just 50 kilometers of void away. "Yeah. We just have to hold out for ten minutes. Ten minutes, that's it." Then

  a figure descends from the sky, with chitins like white armor and ruby

  pierced face turned into a snarl, its fists covered in a fine dust and

  its knuckle dusters broken. Holy shit. It punched me so hard it crushed the diamonds in its knuckle dusters to dust.

  "You survived my fists. Impressive for a human." I laugh exasperatedly as its voice rings out my skull. "Yeah, I am not so easy to kill." I muster up my bravado and smile anxiously under my helmet. Eligos. I hate to ask for this but I need some help. Listen, is this a good enemy?

  "Oh,

  you're the descendant of that Knight Kor Halak hates so much. I didn't

  bother to learn his name but Kor Halak grits his teeth whenever he

  speaks of him. Serving your head to him on a plate should make him feel

  better." A shiver runs up my spine at the threat but I suppress any signs of fear in my body language.

  "Hah!

  Get out of my way. I'm going to fight Kor Halak and I am going to

  staple his corpse to my ship for all to see. You're not worth my time." Eligos rumbles through my soul. Very well then. This is a worthy combatant and I have deemed that you must kill Kor Halak or die trying. Be graced by my power.

  Black flames engulf me, black metal melding itself to my body as my

  flat helmet turns into that of a knight of old Terra's medieval age, the

  orange hard light sword in my hand turning into a metal sword wreathed

  in red flames, my helmets HUD replaced by a blackness consuming the

  edges of my vision. Eligos enjoys the image of belonging to the most

  savage aspects of humanity, the perception he wants is to be a

  primordial spirit embodying man's need for warfare rather than a mere

  byproduct of human perception. Like an illusionist using smoke and

  magnets to fool others. I may hate him but I can't deny that it's a

  great aesthetic.

  The Rakshasa's mouth splits into a savage smile at the sight. "Very

  well then. Consider me the gatekeeper to Kor Halak. Here I wager my

  life, if you triumph then you will prove worthy of his time and perhaps

  he may grace you with a Ghoul if he feels generous." Yeah, like I'd want to be some stupid husk with no recollection of my loved ones and no nostalgia.

  The

  Rakshasa raises its arms in an offensive stance then nuclear fire

  consumes its clenched fists. I turn to Chagri and signal to him. "Hey

  Chagri, stand back and don't get yourself hurt. You're in no shape to

  fight. Keep your distance and let me handle him but make sure to have it ready. You know what I am talking about." Chagri balks for a second. "Are you sure? You will be fighting him at such close range and you could be" "Just do it!" I snap back. "I have a plan. I know what I am doing. Just trust me, okay."

  He

  nods in acceptance, his shoulder unveiling a narrow cylindrical thing

  shaped like a beam cannon but with a small metal plate mounted on shock

  absorbers down the barrel, and his thigh splits and he takes out a

  container with a radiological symbol on it. I sigh and turn to the

  Rakshasa, still patiently waiting for me to make my move. Wings of black

  flame emanate from my back and I kneel down as if preparing to sprint.

  "Let's just get this over with."

  Then

  I launch. My wings propel me at him with my blade in a piercing stance.

  An aura of flame covers him as he stands stiff as a board before

  weaving under my thrust fast enough to leave an afterimage in my eyes.

  Then a fist covered in flame slams into my side hard enough that a spurt

  of blood exits my mouth. I unleash a flurry of slashes doused in red

  flames at him and he simply sidesteps every one of them, bobbing and

  weaving so fast he becomes a blur in my eyes.

  The

  one time I tag him is when he switches into a defensive stance and I

  put a narrow gash in the chitins of his forearm, red flames seeping into

  the wound and igniting the flesh. The Rakshasa's face turns from a

  manic grin into a snarl and it slams its fist into my guts hard enough

  that the armor cracks, plasma burning through the black metal and

  burning into the bodysuit beneath. Then a pair of strikes into my sides,

  heat sinking into my flesh from the plasma and leaving behind glowing

  metal. He unleashes a flurry of punches that I desperately parry.

  Holy

  shit, he is so fast. I go from two-handing my sword to single handedly

  wielding it while blocking with my freed hand. I slash with my sword

  while striking at its side with my fist. It dodges most of my sword

  slashes which only occasionally put shallow gashes in its chitin. It

  doesn't bother dodging the strikes of my fist which do little more than

  dent its armored shell. I have to create some distance from him. I flap

  my flaming wings and a pulse of black fire spreads through the void,

  burning its flesh, and forcing it to back off, giving me enough room to

  breathe.

  I

  have a narrative disadvantage here. The power this Rakshasa wields is

  the power of nuclear fusion, the force that powers stars. The sun of old

  Terra has long been a symbol of purity, holiness, good and justice.

  Humans can feel safe from the things they don't understand in the light

  of the Sun. Eligos as a demonic being shaped by humanities perspective

  is one of those impure things burnt away by the light of the Sun and so I

  am narratively disadvantaged. I could simply cut the Gordian Knot and

  beat him with brute force and skill but it would be much more difficult

  with the narrative working against me.

  90

  seconds have passed since our exchange has begun, my guards are 9

  minutes away, I just need to hold out or kill it in that time. I slash

  into the void and waves of red and black flames flow out. There is no

  hope of actually hitting him with it but that isn't the point. The point

  is to keep him pinned down enough for me to do this. "Chagri! Do you have it ready!" I resonate to Chagri and a stoic "Yeah" is all I get.

  "I'm gonna pin it down and I need you to use it on that Rakshasa. Just trust me okay. I have an—ARRGH!" My

  words are cut off when a leg slams itself into my side. The Rakshasa

  grew itself a pair of plasma wings and leapt up to my position. I break

  off, trying to gain distance, and he pursues. Our movements become a

  pair of flaming blurs as we dance through the void, the Rakshasa is

  burning so hot that the debris around him melts and turns to plasma

  around him. It rams through frigates and melts them into rivers of

  superheated metal and plasma. The blood in my veins and moisture in my

  flesh feels like it's burning when we clash, fists meeting blades as I

  desperately dodge everything it throws at me.

  My

  neurons are racing and an idea comes to mind, a very stupid idea but

  it's better than nothing. This time when me and him meet, I don't break

  off. Instead I take the hit, the black metal of my demonic armor melting

  into slag and the pain running up my burnt arm excruciating, and I bury

  my sword into its chest, sending black flames up and into its inside.

  Its three eyed face, burning with nuclear heat, twists in a soundless

  cry of pain and I press on, dragging the sword buried in its chest

  downward, slicing through its organs.

  Then I remember why this idea was stupid.

  It

  grabs me by the neck, the heat in my throat agonizing, and strikes my

  repeatedly in the side, each time turning metal to slag and burning my

  flesh, before it yanks me towards it and slams its forehead into mine

  hard enough that I swear my brain rattles in my skull before throwing me

  through the void, in the general direction of my Command Citadel.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Everything

  feels so hot as I collide with pieces of debris. My skin is burning and

  my throat is dry. Lethargy fills my limbs as my head throbs. I just

  want to close my eyes. Pathetic. I need to fight against Kor Halak. I

  made that promise and here I am struggling against a nameless Rakshasa

  noble. How useless am I?

  Get up, Argetlam. You have something to do.

  I must admit to something. I have only been lending you one-fourth of my power. I just thought you would be stronger. Eligos voice rings out in my skull and my limbs regain their strength in pure agitation.

  Fucking WHY! Screw you Eligos!

  Very

  well then. My previous contractors did well with this fraction of

  power. I shall attempt to compensate you as I wish to see you fight

  against Kor Halak. You have 80 seconds.

  Then

  my vision goes black. My limbs are pulsating with power as black flames

  engulf me. My medieval helmet distends, visor splitting in half

  sprouting metal teeth and a beastly maw reminiscent of a wolf, while my

  gauntlets grow diamond cutting claws. Waves and storms of black and red

  flames corruscate through the void around me.

  And my wings propel me at relativistic speed.

  I

  am a fireball streaking through the void. It feels like I am in a

  dream, every movement automated yet taking my complete effort as I lose

  sight of the world around me, unable to think of anything other than

  that damn Rakshasa. My vision is black and he is the only thing I can

  see. A vision fills my mind of him with his spine ripped out and a smile

  fills my wolf-like steel face, metal teeth twisting into a grin.

  The

  Rakshasa is at first blurry and distant in my vision but he rapidly

  becomes more defined as I get closer and closer until I can see the

  individual chitins on his body and the blinking of his three eyes.

  He

  raises his fists into a defensive stance and I slash through them,

  severing both arms at the elbow and passing directly through to cut a

  deep gash in its chest. Then my fist crunches against its face,

  shattering bone and crushing eyeballs. I grab it by the neck and bury my

  sword in its chest, to the right where its heart would be, before

  accelerating to slam it into the hull of a frigate, burying my sword in

  its right leg and pinning it to the metal before straddling it and

  slamming my fist into its chest repeatedly, shattering bone and

  crunching organs with each impact.

  There

  is a pounding in my ears, my vision is clouded and my chest beating as

  I pause my beating to bury my metal teeth within its shoulders,

  crunching chitin as the metallic taste of blood and flesh enters my

  mouth and I pull, yanking out meat from its shoulder.

  Then

  my 80 seconds end and I regain my senses. The aura of flames retreats,

  my helmet returning to its original shape and bone white color, and my

  sword returning to its original hard light form. My lungs feel like they

  will give out, my heart beating furiously in my chest, my throat is dry

  as my head pounds with adrenaline. It stopped moving and its chest is

  burning with black flames, it should be dead by now

  I

  pull my sword out of its chest. I still have a few broken ribs but

  thankfully the wounds I sustained while in my demonic knight form didn't

  pass over. I walk away. I need to find Chagri, he's hurt and without

  his weapon. He still has it as a deterrent but he needs my

  help. I need to fi-ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME! I feel a leg slam into my

  back hard enough that I am launched forward off the ship, thankfully

  managing to latch onto the hull to see that the one who hit me is a

  limping Rakshasa with its hands cut off at the elbow, with a hole in its

  chest leaking black flames and a deep bite in its shoulder.

  We both yell out the same words in that instant.

  "WHY WON'T YOU DIE!"

  I

  swing my sword at it and it brings me to my knees with a pair of blows

  to the side from its one functional leg before kicking me in the helmet

  hard enough that my visor cracks, fractures in the metal forming.

  A single more kick to the helmet and I will be exposed to the void.

  It

  kicks me in the chest and sends me on the ground. I close my eyes and

  prepare for the suffocation and cold of the void to come. I just want

  some damn rest, even if it means the cold of the grave.

  But it never comes.

  I

  open my eyes and see the Rakshasa bound with tight ropes made of

  ethereal green liquid mid kick. Then a round, much higher in caliber

  than even the stuff Chagri uses, pierces through the Rakshasa's head and

  it pops like a balloon.

  Then

  a pair of colossal figures in heavy armor, standing 8 to 10 feet each

  and possessing thick horns, enter my vision and I feel hands wrap around

  my figure and lift me up. The colossal horned pair becomes a squadron

  and surrounding them are much smaller soldiers in slick and elegant jade

  armor, ornate talismans and carvings on their thin frames.

  And

  among them are my guards, clad in slick white armor and wielding hard

  light swords and halberds along with machine guns and assault rifles.

  My vision darkens and blurs, I can hear my helmet cracking, but not before a blocky Tian'Chao gunship enters my view.

  The

  cracking gets more frequent as I get closer. My HUD is in ruins and I

  can barely see but I can feel one of the giant soldiers lift me up and

  put me in a bridal carry like the one Chagri gave me.

  My vision turns black. I just want some damn rest. The cracking of my visor distant in my ears as I close my eyes.

  Then depressurization

  Hey buddy, you still with us?

  Remember.

  You're not like us. We may die but you're not meant to. I can feel it

  around you. No. not that demon. Something much bigger and more

  primordial rewriting and even the chains of causality around you.

  Wait! Wait! Wha-what are you doing here? I-I don't understand.

  Don't worry. You're not dead. Your brain's just running out of oxygen and you are beating yourself up for failing.

  You're not going to die here. You still have something to do before you die. A will to carry on.

  Heh,

  you still don't get it. We are not mere men of flesh but patterns

  wearing skin sleeves. We only die when we are forgotten and are reborn

  when something else picks up our dreams. We can leave behind so much

  more than just bones.

  You're

  going to have to carry us to the promised land. It doesn't matter if we

  died. We just had to have mattered. Our deaths must lead to something.

  Wake up now.

  I

  jolt awake with a gasp. I wince as I open my eyes. Everything is so

  bright. My arm is heavy despite it being unencumbered by armor as I move

  it to wipe the gunk from my eyes. I realize that I am currently in a

  Tian'Chao gunship, though it would be closer to a frigate by Panhuman

  standards in both role and size. I stand up from the bed where I was

  laying down and a sharp pain runs through my chest. Shit. I remember my

  broken ribs.

  "My Lord!

  Please lay down!" The voice of a tall figure clad in ornate white armor

  rings out when I collapse while trying to stand up, desperately trying

  to drag myself to a standing position. "N-no. I'm fine, I swear. Where

  is my armor?" I lie to him while taking in my surroundings. The gunships

  insides are brutalistic, a muted green color palette filling the room.

  Shit, where is Chagri.

  "I'm

  right here." I nearly cry for what feels like the 8th time today when I

  hear Chagris' voice. He is lying down on a bench with one of his arms

  in ruin and a machine gun, too slick and smooth to be his, at his side.

  "Shit man, your helmet broke when we were a few feet away from the

  airlock. I have no idea how you survived that. Your heart went into

  cardiac arrest like three times before you were stable. Each time you

  came back, or something brought you back."

  I

  walk up to him and plant my arms on his shoulder. "Where. The. Hell.

  Is. My. Armor." I put special emphasis on each word and lean forward,

  forehead to flat metal. Chagri moves his hand and points to the side, to

  a disassembled bone white armor set repaired through Tian'Chao

  nanomachinery, a hard light blade set down next to it.

  I

  get off of him and cringe at my actions, moving to put on the metal

  armor. Chagri speaks as I put on my gauntlet and vambraces. "If you are

  going then I will go with you. If you die then I will carry on your

  memory and I will pass on your will to someone else." My eyebrows clench

  together and my lips curl at his resigned tone. I pop my neck and flex

  my back, thick muscles dense with tension.

  "No.

  Stay here. You have somebody waiting for you, a community to come back

  to. How do you think Charlotte would feel if you died a meaningless

  death because of me? You're not my friend. You're my ally. You don't

  have to work too hard for me. Abandon me to save yourself if you have

  to. I wouldn't care. Everyone just wants to live and I get it."

  I

  had first come to know Chagri as a mere ally of convenience. He and I

  met when we were both junior officers with great ambition. Our alliance

  was just one of convenience. The only reason we interacted on such close

  terms was because of his friendly and outgoing personality.

  "Argetlam."

  He puts special emphasis on my name as I put on my helmet. "I'm still

  going with you. I don't care. Someone needs to keep you alive. That

  bureaucrat wants to talk to you now. You told me to be on my best

  behavior because of him and I will fulfill that request."

  I put my hand on his shoulder and smile tentatively. "Do you still have it?"

  It would be very stupid to use it in my citadel but if it would mean

  getting rid of the overgrowth then so be it. He nods in

  confirmation."Well I'm gonna need you to have it ready for use

  in-doors."

  "Are you fucking stupid?" I expected that. "Just trust me."

  My voice stresses those words. "I promise you that I have a plan. I

  know what I am doing." I really don't have one but I need him to have

  faith in me. "Fine. But I have the right to disobey you if the order is

  stupid." His words are tense and I smile at him while patting him on the

  shoulder. "Very well then. Thank you for your cooperation."

  I

  put on my helmet, hearing the gust of air as the helmet is sealed, and

  move past him. A thin figure clad armor covered in elegant black robes, a

  featureless rounded helmet colored black with the visor stylized into a

  spider's web on his face and an aura of green coruscating fluid around

  him. I tower over him in height and figure. Bulky muscles covered in

  plating in contrast to his slender frame.

  "Greetings Lord Arg—"

  "You

  don't need to introduce yourself, minister Zhongli. I know who you are.

  I helped you and now you need to help me." My voice is tired and

  famished. There is no aggression or anger in it. I can't bring myself to

  be angry at him. I should be, his information was flawed and it led to

  millions, millions who were under my care, dying meaninglessly but I

  just don't care enough to.

  The aura of green fluid behinds him flickers and he tenses away from me before relaxing. "I see….

  I will skip the formalities and do what must be done. The forces of the

  Ecumene have managed to establish a foothold in the overgrowth

  consuming your citadel. We have also obtained information on a pair of

  high ranking Rakshasa nobles. An Raggarr, third in command of the

  Indomitable Brood, and Kor Halak, second in command of the illuminate

  brood. I pledge my aid in vanquishing them."

  What

  are two members of the Rakshasa royal family doing here? The overgrowth

  we were meant to clean out was just a minor front among god knows how

  many others in the hundreds of galaxies that the Rakshasa have burned to

  the ground.

  Whatever. It doesn't matter. I made a promise and I am going to fulfill it.

  The

  hallways and chambers of my Citadel, once made of sterile marble carved

  into ornate shapes, have become a teeming jungle overgrown with life. I

  make my way through vines, kudzu and tangled rot. The Oni, titanic

  horned figures clad in blocky industrial armor and two-handing

  autocannons, simply cut through the shrubs and weeds with combat knives

  that are more like short swords while I weave through the openings

  created. The air is humid, moisture manifesting as tiny droplets of

  water all over my armor and my vision is blocked by the thick fog that

  paints the hallways and corridors in a blue and green hue.

  Sweat

  drips down my back profusely from the blistering heat, warmth pouring

  past the insulation of my bodysuit and working its way into my flesh. I

  would take off my helmet and wipe my brow if it didn't mean my blood

  would melt into hot, tepid sludge from the hyperthermia. Entropy is

  master here. Little insects skitter beneath the leaves, spinning webs

  and consuming stone chips. Beneath the leaves, termites lay pulp eggs,

  and bacteria squirms to divide. Fuck, who can say how many viruses and

  infectious bacteria grow here? It's gonna take so long to clean this up,

  the consequences of the Rakshasa song of life.

  Hands

  stick out of the greenery, rotting from the heat and gnawed on by flesh

  eating critters, hands belonging to those who were devoured by the

  jungle. I pause for a moment and stare at some unlucky bastard who got

  consumed by the growth, his heart still beating in his chest as three

  eyed green moth nibble at his flesh, he stare at me, his eyes melted by

  the heat and his mouth agape in a silent scream. I nearly vomit when I

  see a slimy white slug crawl out of his throat and feast on his tongue.

  I

  should help him. I take out my hardlight sword and jam it into where

  his heart would be. Part of me knows that his brain is kept alive by the

  infernal magic of this place yet I pray that he can find the peace of

  the grave.

  We walk for

  twenty more minutes, the distant howl of laughing Rakshasa in my ears.

  The greenery becomes less and less and the stone upon which mandalas are

  inscribed is slowly revealed. "We are close." I mutter to the group in a

  low voice. Sensors are useless here from the harsh environment but he

  should be somewhere around…

  "You!

  Lower your weapons and tell us who you are! You aren't part of some

  trick by those… things, are you?" Two guards dressed in white armor

  colored with blue lines of light point their coilgun rifles at me

  through the mist. "Relax. Just relax. It's me. I managed to make it back

  here with some assistance. Just let me speak to Honorius. I have

  something to share with him, trust me." A startled realization runs

  through both of them at my voice. They raise their hands in a salute

  while a "Sorry sir!" exits both of them at the same time.

  They

  part and we pass through into a church made of smooth brown stone free

  from the constant growth outside. Oghuz and Knights alike, battered and

  exhausted with their armor worn, watch the windows while Oghuz shamans

  conduct ritual bindings, carving runes of death into the stone to

  prevent the growth from entering. The sound of praying rings out as we

  get closer to the altar, a slender albino figure clad in a cassock with a

  thorn as long as a spear in hand conducting the prayer.

  "Honorius!

  What the hell happened! Why did the ritual backfire like that?" It's a

  rather rude introduction but I can't help myself. A look of relief

  crosses Honorius's beautiful androgynous face, one that I am sure would

  make many men of… different proclivities and many women for that matter

  cry. "Argetlam! How wonderful is it that you are alive. One of the two

  Astrologers was being rather…. Difficult to work with and I lost my

  temper. Around that same time the song of life started playing and it

  seemed to have locked onto the social disorder in the room." Rakshasa

  ontological weaponry locks onto choice and disorder for their targeting.

  It seems that even social disorder counts, another thing to write down

  so that this doesn't happen to anyone ever again.

  "It

  was Oliphaele, wasn't it?" He nods in affirmation with a nervous smirk

  on his face. I sigh under my breath. "Well, what about the other one?

  The albino one with the ponytail? What happened to him?" Why do I care

  about this guy so much? He is just an aberration, his personal file is

  short and vague and I've only spoken to him once. What's wrong with you,

  Argetlam?

  "Sh—He got

  launched out at the moment the ritual took place. Around that time the

  Clan Elder we were hoping to work with went berserk and launched off to

  who knows where. All I know is that it's been moving towards a single

  direction and killing everything in its way, mostly Rakshasa

  thankfully?" a slight frown crosses my face beneath my helmet and a

  strange feeling of…. sadness floods through me at the answer. Poor guy,

  lived an empty and miserable life before becoming another statistic.

  Whatever. May as well make his death matter.

  "You're

  coming with me. There's a pair of Rakshasa nobility out there in the

  jungle. I'm going to find them and kill them and you're going to help

  me."

  He tenses, an expression of outrage on his face.

  "Shouldn't you assist with—"

  "I don't care. You're going to help me and that is that."

  "But you—"

  Disdain

  flickers beneath my helmet. "The death of two nobles, even if

  temporary, should give off enough energy and give us enough narrative

  momentum to perform a large scale exorcism and purify the rot."

  "That's not—"

  "I don't care."

  He

  opens his mouth before closing it and frowning while crossing his arms.

  "Fine. I will help you but I hope you know that's not how any of this

  works."

  A smile crosses my face and I put on my polite tone.

  "Very well then. Thank you."