The Sign of the Fallen

38

A massive shockwave threw the learners backwards off their feet. Newton felt the hood of his jacket drop, but he didn't move to return it to its position. What stood in front of him was much worse.

A black-haired female dressed in red armor with hateful red eyes had dropped from above and left a crater where she landed. A crown-like headpiece ran around her forehead and down her nose, but now there were no lenses to obscure her eyes.

Mortem had arrived.

The pictures were nothing like the real person. As the emotionless red eyes pierced into him through the slits in the headpiece, he felt a surge of fear. He scrambled backwards as the menacing red figure stood above him.

Then, he felt it. The pain he had felt back on Uthra was nothing compared to what Mortem did now. Every fiber in his body felt like it wanted to combust. Behind him, he heard his companions cry out in pain. There was nothing they could do to stop the angry red energy wave pulsing from Mortem.

Newton's vision started to fade, and he thought he would pass out. Spots dotted his vision as he was forced to his knees and his head jerked back to see Sadie behind him at the feet of Ciela, who was staring in fear. Ciela crouched to attempt to aid Sadie, but there was nothing for her to do.

While Newton, Romen, and Adia could shield it slightly from their advanced training, Sadie would be helpless. Newton wanted to get angry at this and use it like before, but he couldn't. He couldn't get angry at anyone but himself for dragging his friends into this mess. It was his fault they were here, and he was going to get them out.

Instead of anger, he felt responsibility and protectiveness. Pictures flew threw his mind: all six of them working in the library, Nia and Schwarz laughing quietly, working on his aircraft with Sadie, but the most powerful image was playing with Ciela back on Egia so long ago. It filled him with warmth and the pain started to subside. He stumbled to his feet on shaky legs and detected a flicker of surprise from Mortem.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you, but you can't do this," he wheezed to the stoic figure. "Innocent people don't deserve this. You can't start a war just to get what you want. You can't do this."

Mortem stared at him and didn't respond.

Newton brought up his fists in a fighting stance.

"If this is the only language you understand, then bring it," he said with a fiery look in his eye.

Then, she spoke. It was a cold metallic voice completely void of any emotion.

"You can't understand. War is just one step to the ultimate goal."

"Which is what?" he shouted at her.

She regarded him coldly.

"We will free the people and end anyone who stands in our way."

Newton shook his head.

"Not like this. Do you really want to kill someone to do this? Would your parents really want that?"

A cold wave of anger passed over him and he was nearly knocked off his feet again. "They were weak. They didn't make the necessary sacrifices. I will."

"Why her?" Newton shouted. "Why kill someone who shares your goals?"

"An unfortunate but necessary sacrifice. A martyr will outrage the people into action."