Ascension: Keep Going...

  Earlier that cold, quiet night...

  An armored carrier rides along a snow-dusted trail...

  Among those inside, one is exceptionally curious about another...

  "Your name is Dirge?" a young soldier asks in genuine curiosity, his grey eyes fixed on the stranger dressed in black who's quietly sitting across from them. The other three soldiers sitting in the back stay quiet, but two are listening and curious; the third is asleep beside the 'civilian'. The stranger doesn't seem like a socially awkward person, but he hasn't said a word since arriving. He suddenly and quietly turns, answering their wandering mental assumptions while casting that amber gold-eyed gaze over each of them; his eyes look as enchanting as his gaze, and his expression is calm. There's a strange aura about him.

  "No, it's a callsign, much like your names..." Dirge casually corrects, reaching to scratch at the mess of black hair framing his unscarred features; the rocking and swaying vehicle isn't helping make his unruly hair any neater. His voice matches everything else about him; it's stress-free and nonchalant, yet godlike. The air and aura of a powerful Lion that's aware of its strength compared to Hyenas, but with it a calm and comforting human humbleness. His openness invites another question toward the dazzling, cross-shaped pendant strung around his neck, barely seen under his dark, poncho-like overcoat.

  "What's that pendant? Looks super expensive and important. Why bring that out here?" a curious inquiry again, but this time Dirge hesitates. He looks down in silent thought, like he's trying to figure out the best way to explain it. He eventually turns that eerily supernatural, amber-eyed expression on the soldier once more, answering a question all of the others in the vehicle likely wanted to know as well.

  "It's an important keepsake that's better used in my constant possession," Dirge's strange wording incites mild curiosity from some, but falls on ignorant ears to the private. The soldier merely assumes Dirge is super sentimental about a piece of jewelry. He circles back to his initial inquiry: Dirge's name, or callsign. His question carries mild disbelief.

  "So, the Church uses callsigns like the military? Why would they do that?" his eyes light with further curiosity. Dirge quickly realizes that if he allows the kid to keep asking questions, he'll turn into an encyclopedia. He doesn't have the energy to talk and explain that much. There are also things he's not allowed to speak on. He moves the conversation as easily as grooves lead streams.

  "Your callsign is Soap, right? I think my superiors mentioned that," Dirge counters questions, and the young soldier's brows furrow. Soap? His blatant confusion at Dirge's question elicits a laugh from the Replicant; it's a light one, but a laugh nonetheless. "I'm kidding. My name is Noah. You must be pretty..." a pause as he tries to recall the right slang. "High-speed? To be on a mission like this.". His ignorance makes everyone in the vehicle chuckle. The soldier who asked the first question eventually cleared his throat and spoke again, looking and acting far more at ease.

  "Ha! No, I'm a fucking private!" he chuckles in morbid humor at his life choices while pointing at the singular mark on his chest patch. "I hear back before the Second Descension, kids went to college and shit to get promoted faster! Wish they fucking kept that around. I for fucking sure wouldn't be out here on an experimental AAR assignment. Smart people hear an Abyssal Rift is coming and get the fuck away..." A dry sigh precedes the soldier to his right smacking the back of his combat helmet. The smack happens in coincidence with the vehicle hitting a soft bump, enhancing the force of the blow.

  "You'd still be a fucking private! Books can't fix the kind of stupid you are!" The second soldier chuckles, eliciting laughter from everyone in the vehicle, even Dirge and the Driver. "Besides, this is most likely just another dumb assignment that'll end up with nothing happening but us freezing our asses off in the dark. An Abyssal Rift hasn't popped up in a long time. We're going off the insight of some old people that don't know what they're doing," he adds with a mild shrug. The Private smacks the other back, quickly retorting. He's got a youthful spunk to his words, likely freshly military age.

  "Says fucking Specialist Doe. Who the fuck asked for the residential Deer bitch to get a fucking M4!?" his counterattack rewards him with harder laughter from everyone. Dirge covers his mouth and looks away, trying his best to keep it professional. His subtle chuckles are muffled by the roar of laughter and rocking of the vehicle. The Specialist eye rolls. His words are more laid back and arrogant at first, then he ramps it up.

  "Your mother after I got done fucking HER!!!! OHHHHHHH!!" Doe's comeback ERUPTS into a self-proclaimed victory yell, which naturally hypes everyone else up. This wins him the battle through simple momentum, and the Private snorts and shoves him some before their Sergeant finally chimes in to quell everything down. He's the oldest in the vehicle and the second most distinctive. His gear is far cleaner and more orderly than his subordinates', and his voice matches his foreign accent. He's got quite the intense lisp.

  "Alright, y'all need to shut that shit up!" he firmly says, getting everyone under control. "Listen, don't ask questions you don't get paid to answer and don't think about shit you don't have the power to change," a pause while he raises his hands in an easygoing gesture to sell his ending comment. "And you'll live a happy life like me! Anyway..." he turns to his subordinate.

  "Specialist Doe, when we pull up, you're the first to pull guard since you like fucking people's mothers," a slick comment warrants laughter from the nameless private till the Sergeant's rustic eyes flick his way. "Private Jackson, you just became his relief. Thanks for taking my shift," a wink, and Jackson's chuckle quickly dies. Specialist Doe vaguely smirks but lowers his head so he's not seen. The Sergeant sees it, but doesn't say anything, or he'll be here all night giving extended punishments between the two. His gaze falls upon the Replicant leaning in silence against the wall. The man stopped paying them attention a while ago.

  "Dirge, do you know what you'll be doing once we arrive? The Church briefed you?" he asks, and Noah turns those archaic golden eyes on the Sergeant with a small nod of confirmation. It's like a golden-eyed, black-furred wolf is staring him down every time, but there's no malicious intent. Such a powerful, primal sensation. A predator shelled within a human form. Is this what being superhuman means?

  "Roger, Sergeant Miro," Noah acknowledges, and the Sergeant nods and bangs on the side of the vehicle, now looking at the sleeping soldier beside Dirge.

  "This motherfucker's capable of sleeping through a goddamn hurricane! Oi! Specialist Otis, wake your ass up!" he smacks the knee guard of the sleeping giant, the physically largest man in the vehicle. He's a country-looking man with pale skin, much paler than the rest of his peers. Otis budges a little and hums, but doesn't wake. Sergeant Miro eye-rolls and lets it go; he's got to be fresh for his first guard shift. He turns his attention toward the driver behind them. Noah, meanwhile, feels a subtle shift in the air but brushes it off. A lot is going on with the noises and talking.

  "Private Dexter! How long till we're there?" Sergeant Miro questions, and there's a high-pitched yell back. Whoever's driving isn't older than twenty. Some things don't change over generations, it seems.

  "Uhhh, not far?" the kid yells back with a questioning inflection. "GPS says we're on track, but the screens busted where the important shit is. We'll be there in less than thirty minutes, though," he answers after some talking, and the Sergeant pinches his nose. Noah quietly wonders a few things, but keeps them to himself. That's not a world he has experience in. The Sergeant's comment distracts him anyway.

  "You could've said under thirty minutes from the start and saved me ten seconds of your yapping. Thank you!" Sergeant Miro sighs and settles back in his seat while everyone else chuckles. Dexter's quick to yell back, risking push-ups for his next comment. Noah feels that weird feeling again, and this time perks up, but not enough to draw attention. He looks into space, like he's thinking, and it's bothering him that he can't figure out what this sensation he's feeling is. It's too loud. He can't keep his thoughts together. Or, maybe what he's feeling is too subtle to be anything worth caring about, and he's overthinking. He dismisses it.

  "But then I'd have no excuse to talk to you, Sergeant!" the Private screams louder than necessary, and a wicked snort escapes even Sergeant Miro's stalwart expression; he shakes his head while everyone laughs. Noah cracks a smile, watching over the soldiers in peace while it lasts. This is his first assignment out; he's glad it doesn't feel like an ocean of pressure's on hi--

  His spine shivers...

  That feeling was real...

  His Hunter Instinct tried to warn him...

  Otis finally wakes up...

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "AAAAARRRRRRGHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

  The man starts flailing like an insane asylum patient in the small confines of the vehicle, catching Noah off guard with a vicious elbow into his nose that slams his head against the metal wall. A blow that would've shattered the nasal cavity of anyone else in the vehicle merely stuns the Replicant for a few seconds, which is all Otis needs to lurch forward and attack Private Jackson. His longer arms snatch the private's throat before anyone can intervene, and he screams in the most horrifying voice anyone in the vehicle's ever heard, save one.

  "tO HeLl WEE DRaG tHE DAmnED!"

  SNAP!

  Private Jackson is dead.

  "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Specialist Doe abandons trying to pry the man's hands off his dead friend and reaches for his rifle, but it's too small a space. Otis rips the corpse from the seatbelts with inhuman strength with one hand while his other seizes the Specialist by his neck the moment Sergeant Miro drives a knife through the large man's neck. A disgusting squelch accompanies a wicked crunch of bone; Noah simultaneously grabbed Otis before he killed Doe. He destroys the man's wrist with all of his might in that grip, but it's not enough. Otis ignores the lethal blade in his neck and his crunched wrist and SEIZES Noah before taking them both through the several inches of metal-thick door behind them, bursting the bolts out and rolling the vehicle. They hit the snow in a deadly embrace while the vehicle swerves out of control.

  "ROLLOV-" Sergeant Miro's words are drowned out by the tumbling chaos as Otis and Noah ragdoll across the open snow. Otis's increasingly monstrous form overpowers the off-guard Noah, the abominations disfigured and grotesque new arm picking up and slamming Noah beneath into the snow, pinning the young man. There's a series of gross, sickening noises echoing from the fleshy monstrosity's newfound, several meters tall form, bathed in newfound moonlight. Noah realizes what happened too late, his mentor's words echoing in his mind.

  Abyss Fractures fester in the hearts of every mortal...

  Even those with Divine origin...

  "kILL..." the abomination groans...

  That soldier wasn't divine, but still...

  The monstrosity speaks in a wailing agony. Every movement is suffering.

  "ThE SaVioR..."

  Noah's eyes widen...

  Then, they burn with a matching intensity as dark-tinted, purifying flames sear his body.

  Born without parents in a blazing inferno of Divine authority like the Phoenix HE befriended...

  His Divine flames shall burn away all sin and bring forth a brilliant, rising DAWN...

  A Dirge for the wicked...

  But Noah, of Heavenly comfort for the lost...

  "Blaze to life..."

  The ghostly screech of a fallen Legend's friend echoes through the night...

  And from oblivion bursts forth the fleeting embers of an Immortal Fire...

  A feather of power plucked from...

  "Ra..."

  A RADIANT INFERNO of black and gold fire bursts from Noah's form with such power that it sends the monster over thirty meters high into the air, where it crashes with enough weight and force that its impact crater sends SHOCKWAVES. It stumbles to its feet amidst debris and dust seconds later as a smoldering mass of burned flesh and gore, but quickly bursts into accursed energy. It's a living shadow of pure Abyssal Corruption; a reflex reaction to the Phoenix Fire searing the edges of the black-metal gunblade manifested from Noah's pendant, wielded in his left hand. Dirge stands tall and calm, his features a golden-eyed wolf locked onto another target. Only this time, there's killing intent behind that eerily still expression.

  The Replicant and the Monster square off in the quiet darkness of the snow-covered night, in a clearing many miles from civilization. Noah keeps his eyes fixed on the monster, posturing and growling like a rabid animal, but notices the sparking flames far off into the distance. The vehicle caught fire! Noah's plans suddenly have a fork in them. Go save survivors before the vehicle explodes and risk getting them killed anyway with the chasing monster, or deal with the beast first and potentially fail to save anyone? He's got moments to decide. The monster attacks before he can, and Noah reactively lunges at the creature in return, pulling the trigger of his gunblade and unleashing an explosive trail of concussive flames in his wake. The two adversaries clash and impact at the midway point of their attacks, ending up with their backs facing one another as they slide to a crouching halt, pausing in the silence.

  The Monster collapses with a weak wail seconds later, disappearing as ash and cinders while Dirge is unscathed...

  Noah flicks his wrist and disperses his blade back into pendant form before taking off toward the vehicle...

  The young man vanishes like a ghost and reappears a moment later within range of the smoldering ruins of the vehicle, right as it bursts into a plume of molten metal. The explosive SHOCKWAVE blows Noah away as he rushes toward it, sending him tumbling again. He quickly rebounds to his feet again and eyes the burning destruction in silence. The gleaming fires of destruction reflect off the silent regret and lamentation behind a calm, featured face; this was all his fault. If he'd listened to his Hunter Instinct, he would've sensed Otis succumbing to Abyssal Corruption in his dreams and likely saved him. He sucks his teeth and clenches a gloved fist in quiet frustration.

  How can I be a Savior when I can't even...

  "Noah!" A voice cries out.

  Noah snaps out of his descending disgust at himself and scans the debris field in front of him, but stops. He mentally reprimands himself for such a stupid gesture, then closes his eyes and calms his spirit, focusing on one of his strongest skills: Life Detection. He almost immediately zeroes in and pinpoints the only surviving soldier several meters away from the flaming vehicle; it's Private Dexter. Noah dashes over to him and slides onto his knees once close enough, scooping the bloody and injured soldier in his arms as the moonlight shines over them. Dexter's disfigured and burned face matches the scorch wounds across his body; it's a miracle he managed to climb out of the driver's hole before the explosion sent him flying. He coughs, his voice broken and as burned as his body.

  "N...Noah..." the kid chokes out. Every word hurts. Noah quietly holds the man in his arms and keeps a calm, gentle expression; not much longer. He listens in silence while Dexter speaks his final words while weakly forcing a GPS into Noah's grasp; he saved the mission.

  "I... want... my... mo..." he falls silent and limp right before Noah's eyes, and the Replicant gently puts the corpse down, closing Dexter's eyes and turning to look over the destruction. He doesn't attempt to look for the others; he knows they're all dead.

  "... I'm sorry..." Noah takes a moment to let his emotions flow; nobody is around anymore. A tear falls down his cheek; a cry for those he failed to protect, but he blinks it all away and regains his composure. The path to Ascension was never going to be easy; his mentor made sure Noah accepted this truth. With newfound resolve to not let another soldier die in front of him, Noah turns and salvages a transmitter from Dexter's corpse. It thankfully still works. The moment he picks it up, someone calls in from the other side.

  "APC, this is Sergeant Peterson. What's your ETA? It's getting around the time the Abyssal Rift should start bleeding into our world, and I won't lie to you, I'm feeling kinda anxious, haha!" a chuckle. Noah holds the transmitter in silence while listening; it seems nobody managed to call for help before they died. Noah hesitates to reply, but he eventually does, maintaining a persevering and calm tone in his words that betrays the emotions dwelling within him. He's got to keep up appearances.

  "We got ambushed. I'm the only survivor, but the mission carries on..." Noah pauses and eyes the GPS, making a mental calculation of the distance left and the time he's got before the Abyssal Rift fully bleeds over. "I'll be there in under thirty minutes..." a declaration of intent more for himself than the others; he can't fail this assignment. There's a long pause over the comms before Sergeant Peterson replies, his voice isn't easygoing and relaxed anymore, but understanding and... gentle?

  "Every soldier knows what they signed up for, even if they want to believe it'll never happen to them..." The Sergeant's words snap Noah out of a mental spiral, and Noah eyes the transmitter once more while the Sergeant speaks. "You can't change what's happened, only prepare for what's to come. So, we'll honor the dead after this mission. Get your ass over here before we all die, too." A sudden chuckle at the end, but Sergeant Peterson's words spark a newfound flame in Noah's spirit, and he nods.

  "Roger."

  Noah vanishes in a burst of black and gold, disappearing like a dying myth...

  Only to fall into the clutches of the Abyss with the one soldier he barely managed to protect...

  The Abyss shall drown all...

  Next Chapter: Don't Fear the Abyss...