"That is quite a strong man trying to break through."

  Kirk looked at the steady waves of ripples made by the armored man's hammer striking the canoness' barrier. It was unbelievable at first, seeing that the force emanating from a single person was even greater than the barrage of cannonfire and small arms that, at full strength, Euphemia's spheres and barrier managed to shrug off.

  "It is hard for me to accept that I am using loose magical force. This may not be from the earth, but from people we're supposed to be helping." The cleric said, "All of this. From this city..."

  Euphemia assumed the form of light; the only proof of her presence was the field that wrapped the tower itself, and the ball that gave off a glow so bright, yet it was mild to the eyes.

  Meanwhile, the men outside were gathering behind the armored man, pounding through the bright field with his weapon. They were bringing to bear larger guns than the ones the first wave of the attackers carried. There was a keening sound that came from the canoness' sphere form; beams of light struck their weapons, forcing them to throw their flaming or molten remains.

  Kirk saw a burning fragment hit a syndicate operative on the arm. It made a gash in his suit; the exposed skin did not bleed, but he dropped to the ground in less than a minute. The protection offered by their outfit was not perfect; no need to kill when something as simple as a little fabric damage could knock out enemies senseless.

  "It is time for both Rook and me to be of better use."

  "So, what are we going to do?" Rook went to one of the open windows; Euphemia's barrier drained much of the surrounding ambiance to different shades of amber.

  "I would say we should split," Kirk replied. "I'll take the knight-looking man and his monster partner, you take the ones with guns."

  "Pretty fair, fiend-conjurer."

  "I'll make you drop the name-calling one day, cheeky bastard."

  Kirk looked at the tubes and diodes above the tower's main controls. Solid, painted colors did not blend with the raw, antiquated look of the rest of the structure: a forced addition to the stones and levers on the console, which bore the same aged look as the tower's masonry. Rook also noticed where his eyes were, which made the boy say:

  "Yeah, that. Aren't they after the rock-like thing on this machine?"

  Rook pointed to the prismatic object encased in the tower's main mechanism. A light of varying colors was seen coming out of a metal cage, changing into a myriad of hues, swirling into varying intensities, and differing in random degrees of brightness. A wheeled device with an attached metal capsule and claw sat beside the apparatus.

  "I say they were literally expecting to cart that thing off and walk away with no problem." Kirk approached the machine's controls, looking at the array of buttons, levers, and dials. "Say, any of you know how to operate this thing?"

  There was no reply from Euphemia, who was occupied in maintaining the screen of light that was in the way of the armed men outside. Rook went to the controls, eyes focused on the largest lever. Without a word, his hands shot forward and pulled down the mechanism. The glowing filaments atop the tower gave off a light brighter than usual, followed by an explosion that sent sparks and threads of energy to the ground. Smoke came out of the machine before the mechanism's upper reaches revealed a blackened metal assembly.

  "That looked like it worked," Kirk observed as the rest of the machine powered down; more sparks trailed to the floor. "How did you figure it out?"

  "Honestly, I don't know, but you're welcome." Rook went away from the control panel and resumed looking at the enclosed colorful object.

  Kirk went to the window and saw the gathering of enemies beyond Euphemia's barrier; the hulking armored man was still banging his hammer against the screen of light. He returned to where Euphemia stood and said:

  "Now that's a man with a lot of energy to spare. Do you think you can keep him and his friends at bay for long?"

  "I should be able to, but I would have to resort to destroying his weapon to be sure."

  "Rook and I make a great distraction. Also, to find a way to not let their grubby hands get that colorful crystal-looking... thing, or whatever they're after inside this place."

  Kirk drew his staff and pried the metal cage open, revealing a large object of ever-changing colors. He first touched the stone; an unfamiliar strength coursed through his body. He lifted the object from its enclosure with little trouble and placed it on the claw-equipped cart.

  "That green-eyed freak is mine." Rook went to the tower's right window, with a strange change in his voice. "I'll peel that smug smile off his face."

  "Sure thing, Rook. Your enthusiasm scares me." Kirk looked at Rook one last time before opening the tower's left window. "Anyway, let's do our best to stay alive. We'll leave looking after that rock-like object to you, Sister."

  "Please be safe, both of you." While Euphemia's sphere form couldn't see, Kirk felt its presence staring back at the two companions.

  · · ─ ·?· ─ · ·

  "This is going to be easy, right?" Kirk went through the bright white field in front of the open tower doors. "There's two of us... and more than four dozen of them, but I'll have to keep armored man and his monster ally at bay."

  "You sound far from confident, Master Kiergaard." Kirk heard the revenant's voice in his head.

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  "So what's slowly killing the people in this city isn't affecting ghosts... rather, ghostly forms like you?"

  "I prefer believing that I am not made of magical force, Master Kiergaard."

  "That's a relief. Now, on the matter at hand. I should be confident after all. We have the alluring prayer lady on our side." Kirk held his staff on one end using both his hands. "But I'm not sure how that boy and I are going to make quick work of, uh, practically every guy on the other side."

  Gunmen formed a crescent around him; the metallic battle machines walked in front. The hum of Euphemia's magical spheres assured the staff fighter that he was still afforded some kind of protection. A rain of beams emanated from four of Euphemia's artifacts; three of them pierced the mechanical fighters and split each machine in half. The air was muffled by a short chain of explosions; some of the men struck by shrapnel caught in the city's strength-sapping air lay on the ground shortly. Those who remained intact withdrew and left two other men to deal with Kirk. At least, a large man in armor and an actual man-beast.

  "No way either of them is going down with blunt strikes." Kirk assumed a defensive posture, as if he were holding a sword. "The others will find that they're not the only special ones here."

  "Use my power, Master."

  Blue and black flames wrapped around the staff, transforming Kirk's weapon into a flaming yet cold blade, almost a man's width. The bull-headed monster charged and threw a fist at the warrior. The flat of the blade took the force of the blow, but the punch was strong enough to send him flying. Kirk struck his weapon on the ground to break the momentum.

  "This is a rare chance I get to destroy a creature such as this." Macario's hollow voice was more expressive than normal. "Hundreds of years. All catching up to me."

  "Wait, you mean?"

  Kirk waved the sword and made an upward cut. The blade connected to the monster's body. The wielder struggled little in finishing the slash, splitting the hateful creature in two. Black fire engulfed its body; smoke and ashes were drawn to Macario's sword form.

  "Not a magical construct, nor a man-made monster."

  "You're talking in riddles right now, Macario."

  "Let us deal with the armored man before I tell you my story."

  "Wait. What?"

  The hammer-wielding man closed in too quickly for someone in a full suit of armor. He swung his weapon, which Kirk managed to block with his blade. Kirk stopped the weapon from crushing him, but it wasn't enough to prevent him from being propelled to a stack of wooden boxes nearby. Crashing with enough force to reduce the containers to broken wood and needle-like splinters, Kirk thanked Euphemia's field that he was in no pain after the impact. He held on to his black-flamed greatsword before he recovered to stand straight and assume a stance.

  · · ─ ·?· ─ · ·

  The alleyways to the right of the event venue were not as crowded as the main roads, particularly for an occasion meant to be celebrated by everyone outside their homes. Strangely clean for an area close to the festivities. Nothing but the low hum of the Wizards' wall could be heard everywhere; even the soles of running men were muffled by the overpowering sound.

  Winston Norton's face felt warmer than usual; the occasional tingling in some parts of his head caused his eyes to lose focus at times. Random colors appeared as flashes and spots and got in the way at some points, so he needed to pause after a few steps before resuming at a jogging pace. He had fifteen men behind him; beams of light served as their eyes in search of the shadow that kicked the syndicate commander.

  Their search brought them to a section of the city where buildings were larger and higher than the residential areas near Tower 7. A voice echoed by the time the group arrived at a clearing surrounded by an open warehouse and closed buildings. It said:

  "You've always been no fun, Green Eye." The source sounded like a youth; raspy laughter interrupted his speech at times. "...you just keep calling for more people to join in. You know, try to be a little selfish. It's fine. I can make this a little more exciting."

  The glow in Winston's synthetic eye was stronger than before. All he saw inside the open warehouse were stacks of crates and larger metal boxes. He continued to scan the surroundings; his eyes came across the upstairs platforms where pulleys were operated from. Chains were tipped, causing ringing and jingling sounds to bounce everywhere. Winston's men moved in groups of four, back facing each other while attempting to form a protective screen for their squad leader.

  There was a puff of air, followed by a thunk; one of Winston's men lay on his back on the floor. He examined the fallen body; there was a dent in the man's helmet. Not far was the stone used to knock him out.

  "Split up and find cover!"

  Winston dived behind one of the larger metal boxes. Some of his men ran outside and aimed while the rest found their own places of concealment. This opponent knew his way in the dark, and hiding too long would let that enemy pick them off slowly but surely. Winston found the staircase leading to the upper platforms, and he tapped four of the men closest to him to follow suit.

  "I can see you, Green Eye." The target seemed to be speaking from one of the warehouse's upper rooms.

  Winston's men were following him to the staircase that led to the upper floors. A flash and a crack on the left corner, followed by an interrupted cry of pain; the last man to come up fell to his face on the stairs.

  "I envy you, Green Eye. You've made so many friends."

  The boy spoke from the shadows. Even the rapid responsiveness of his mechanical vision could not keep up with the stalker. Now stripped of the protective light seen on him at the tower, this boy should have fallen to the strength-draining field of the Gray Fox. How could he continue his attempt at harassing the formation?

  "What about Master? Are you still friends with Master?"

  "You're spouting nonsense, boy!"

  Winston aimed from the hip, but the target didn't stay in one place. There was no point wasting bullets on someone none of them could get in their sights. Their attacker's subdued laughter echoed, though it was as if he was everywhere. It asked:

  "Have you forgotten the Master? And I thought you knew where Master is."

  "I don't remember you serving the one I call 'master'." Winston grinned, both in annoyance and fear. "You are out of your mind."

  "I feel sad. We're not even worth remembering."

  Winston could not feel the boy's presence nearby until one of his men disappeared into the shadows. There was an attempt to scream, but the dark threw an unconscious body towards the syndicate commander. He shifted his weight to the right, evading what was meant to be an attack using a man as a missile. In a fading voice, the boy spoke:

  "I like these guns your friends have. I'm taking this, whether you like it or not."

  The sound of falling wood was heard, which prompted the remainder of Winston's squad to shoot in the direction of the source. The enemy spoke from above:

  "I'm not done playing with you. Maybe outshooting you can help you remember the master. Our master."

  Winston probed with his rifle at the ceiling; neither the flashlight nor his machine eye spotted anyone close to a target. Three men, out of the starting fifteen, remained with him; everyone was waving flashlights, eyes on their gun sights in the hopes of out-hunting the elusive hunter.