AnimaNova.exe (Arc1:Chp6)

Arc 1

Chapter 6 - The First Mission

‘That was… unpleasant,’ Sophia thought, grimacing internally as she lay on the floor waiting for her body to relax. ‘Oh, my life sucks!’

The collar’s light slowed back to a steady blue. Her fingers were the first to twitch and she heard the Eastguardian man groan but quickly muffled it when they heard people draw close. She jerked her head around to see who the hissed whispers belonged to.

Armin appeared around the corner, dragging Gen’varel by a fistful of robes at his shoulder. His face was a mask of rage as he pushed the High Priest unceremoniously against the wall.

“If I didn’t know any better, Gen’varel, I’d think you let that riot drag on longer than necessary!” Armin bit out.

“I would never –” The rest of his sentence ended in a choking gurgle when Armin grabbed his throat and squeezed.

She could feel the seconds tick by. Each one increased the tension in the air as Gen’varel wheezed and squirmed.  Then Armin released him, allowing the High Priest to fall to his knees, clutching his throat and sucking in much-needed air.

“If you're lacking corpses for your undead menagerie, I’m more than happy to volunteer your own. Otherwise, do not test me! These Outworlders disrupt the Cosmic Order; do not involve them any more in the intricacies of our world. How did that death cult emerge again? They were purged!” he barked.

Through his tirade, Sophia noticed him covertly searching for something beyond the alcove they were in, his panicked eyes skipping from body to body.

“They were! All except that prickly Shaman, Lorelai,” Gen’varel rasped hoarsely. “She must be doing something with the Mindbroken.”

Armin growled in frustration. “Separate them from the rest, then cordon off this area, and any area Lorelai frequented. Ensure every square foot is cleansed of her Hexes. And find that Felis Cleric!”

To her dismay, her tail was the first of her limbs to move beyond a twitch. It swished into the air like a snake rearing up and her attempt to control it only ended with it smacking her across the side of the face, barely missing her eye.

“Found!” Gen’varel hollered cheerfully.

Sophia sighed internally, aggravated by how the High Priest could find the audacity to look so smug and proud at accomplishing nothing.

‘Bloody tail,’ she cursed silently.

Armin turned and squinted into the darkness where Gen’varel was looking and marched toward her.

She tried to move her arms and found them responsive but lacking the strength to push herself up. He slipped his hands beneath her shoulders and lifted her, reviving a dull ache in her left one, and she groaned from the effort. He placed her in a sitting position against the wall, completely oblivious to the Eastguardian man moving slowly behind him.

Sophia slapped his hand away when he tried to check her injury. He gave her an irritated look but let it go.

Many of the prisoners began regaining their bodily functions and shuffled silently away from the tunnels. Gen’varel stood up and filed between those still lying on the floor. He prodded them with the tip of his boot, appraising them like pieces of meat.

A painful memory flashed in her mind, taking her by surprise, and she shook her head to rid herself of it. Her breathing increased and her heart raced. It was stupid, foolish, and yet she couldn’t just ignore it.

“What are you going to do with the Mindbroken?” she blurted.

Armin shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re weak,” he bit out. “They tried to kill you, and you still pity them.”

“Intermisso Vita!” Gen’varel chanted.

He spun, robes billowing outward, twirling his body-length reaper’s scythe around in a morbid death dance.

Truci Risu: The Grim Smile was undeniably one of the coolest weapons in-game. Its snath was a long spine of vertebrae, topped by a human skull with a golden scalp. The scythe’s long blade jutted from its gaping, razor-toothed mouth and the runes engraved on the flats of the blade glowed brighter with each swing. But seeing it in action as it pushed sickly green magic from it after its final swipe made her skin crawl. Everything about the magic felt disgustingly… putrid.

It surrounded the Eastguardian mid-stride behind Armin, paralysing him in place, and settled into a green sheen around him. His hand was raised above him, a rock clutched within his grip. The expression on his face was frozen, not in panic, but in anger.

Armin looked over his pauldron at him, then at her, his brows furrowed with bafflement. He straightened, indicating to the High Priest to undo the Suspended Animation spell.

Gen’varel twirled his scythe in an impressive flourish before sheathing it on his back. It lost its sickly glow, the blade retracted into the skull's mouth, and it clamped shut, returning to its less menacing staff disguise.

The shimmer around the Eastguardian shattered and he stumbled forward, audibly expelling a breath he had been holding. As he came to a stop before Armin, he dithered, weighing his options, lips pursed tightly before begrudgingly chucking the rock to the side.

“She’s not weak,” he gritted between clenched teeth.

“Pardon?” Armin asked, leaning closer to hear.

“She’s not weak!” he answered louder. “Having sympathy for people who are clearly suffering is not weakness. You’ve just grown callous.”

Armin laughed uproariously. It sounded forced, tired and bitter. He used it in the game a lot, especially toward Merei, the game’s canon Hero Champion, whenever she tried to help him see the light. They had chosen the best fit for Armin’s voice actor, one who could adequately express the resentment that had been building from his lot in life. But god damn, did it not always put her teeth on edge with how unnaturally humourless it was. And now she was witnessing it in real time, allegedly, and liked it even less.

“What a strange day!” he mused. “You both seem to think you know me. I assure you, you do not! But I have need of a courageous heart such as yours.

“The Felis Cleric,” he said, pointing at Sophia, “needs to remain alive and unharmed. You will be her protector and mentor. Teach her the ropes so she gains better spells, then bring her to me when she learns Purify. In exchange, you will receive special privileges for your work… perhaps even your freedom. But hear me, if she gets hurt, you get hurt. Understood?”

“Commander!” Gen’varel blubbered. “I don’t think this is wise. The Eastguardian is a known troublemaker. Surely, the Order would be a better –”

Armin held up his hand to halt the High Priest's protests.

The Eastguardian looked at her, then at Armin, thinking, and then gave him a curt nod.

Armin turned to her with a look of confused disbelief.

“Why are you sitting there, gawking? Get up and go learn something!”

He shook his head and, before she could react or reply, marched to exit the alcove. But he stopped next to Gen’varel. His hands curled into fists at his sides as he watched the Outworlders slowly rise to their feet. Their dull eyes no longer held desperate fanaticism.

“Bring me the elf druid and all of the Mindbroken,” he ordered.

“Sir, to conduct the ritual on so many could kill you! Surely –”

“I don’t recall asking your opinion, High Priest! Do as I say, then get back to work,” he barked and marched away.

Gen’varel hissed through his teeth in angry frustration. He turned to glare at them both, coldly. The look sent shivers down her spine. Then he turned and followed Armin.

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