Loyal Servant (Crossmare) (Rewrite)

A Long Time Coming

Cross heard movement above him. Stone scraping against itself. Although his mind felt hazy and weak, he still had enough sense to process that just maybe the stones were shifting to fully cave in on him. He had already attempted to move the mass with magic, but without light or any real grasp on how much of the structure was piled above him, he couldn't really risk shifting too much without putting his life in further danger.

He winced when a sudden beam of white light poured down upon his face. His fizzling pinpricks struggled to make anything out. "Cross! Hey, buddy, can you hear me?" A familiar voice called down to him. Killer. His scattered mind started to clear as he realized his friends were there. He managed to glance up and make out their kneeled outlines, slightly silhouetted by the light behind them. He easily recognized Dust and Horror's pinpricks alongside Killer's empty sockets. They must have gotten out of the tower before it struck the ground. The trio were moving the stone bricks, attempting to dig him free. "Cross, answer me!" Killer called again.

"I hear you," Cross rasped, voice expectedly weak. Beyond his friends, somewhere behind him maybe, he heard sounds reminiscent of a battle. "Where are the others?" He questioned, giving one sad attempt to lift himself. A sharp pain shot up his spine and he slipped right back down to the floor. Damn it. The bricks must have fractured one too many bones.

"I think they're fine. They were near Paperjam when the tower fell, so no god took the full force of the blow thanks to their shields," Dust answered, tossing aside a couple more stones with magic. "But they still need to dig themselves out of this mess. The fight you're hearing is Paperjam and Gradient. Both of them were lucky enough to get through the tower's windows when it fell," He then explained.

"We haven't seen Fatal either. He might be buried too," Horror added.

Cross shifted his arm, reaching it up towards them. He opened his hand, revealing the vial he had kept safe in his palm. "Don't worry about me," He told them, shaking a little bit from just the effort of holding up the tiny glass of clear paint. "Find a way to make Gradient drink this. It will clear his emotions, then you just need to convince him to stand down," He said as Dust carefully took the vial from his open hand. Cross let his arm drop back to the ground. "Getting it in his system should be the hardest part of all that," He murmured, finding himself growing abundantly exhausted. He knew better than to let his sockets shut. "Go," He ordered, knowing they'd follow his command.

They were still hesitant to leave him there, but eventually Killer replied. "We'll get it done," He said with a curt nod. When he stood, so did Horror. Dust hesitated a moment longer, but when Cross gave him a stern stare, he finally rose to follow Killer. Once they vanished from view, Cross eased and allowed himself to lay limp. He trusted that his friends would find a way to make things work.

...

Dust felt Killer's hand grab him by the back of his coat. A moment later Killer yanked him downward. He ducked his head as a blaster blared overhead. He could feel the heat waves pound his skull, but Killer had spared him a direct hit. Gradient is summoning blasters now. He looked towards Gradient again, finding Paperjam then took to simply tackling their counterpart rather than letting him have the advantage of a ranged fight.

"We should circle around. Try to grab him from behind then just force that paint down his throat," Killer suggested as they slid to shield themselves behind a wall of scattered debris. Error had at least made a few good places to hide during the battle. Dust looked at the vial. It should be easy enough to force feed it to Gradient once they got close. However, he's going to fight like there's no tomorrow. Past the vial, he saw scattered lines of blue. He focused on them, and realized they were Error's strings.