Arc One: Awakening

Chapter 23: A Greater Purpose

From the moment Esther set foot on Delorem soil, constant noise had accompanied her. Initial steps welcomed her with agonised screams, the next with thunderous gunfire. The rest amalgamated into yelled orders, and thrown punches, and squelching boots.

Squeaking on rusting hinges, the disused door gave way. Rain and oil coated the stairway outside in a treacherous mixture and she collided palms first with the opposite brick wall.

At the end of the alley, a blur of black gear splashed past, a wet sheen glinting from their helmets. She couldn't tell one from the other as the foggy lamplight pitched their shapes into the shadowed track, each of them reaching across refuse and debris like reaper hooks and arching to snare her in the deadly curve.

The ongoing struggle nearby persisted. Plumes of smoke rocketed into the thick cloud-cover and descended in sharp arcs to rock the city's foundations.

As Esther made to meet the sounds, a uniformed body crashed into the corrugated metal protecting the warehouse windows. In mere seconds, an insurgent pinned him, blood-soaked thumbs squeezing his windpipe. Smothered grunts gurgled inside the helmet, and thrashing limbs grew weak. Dangled and limp, he dropped.

Esther retreated in a startled stumble and the revolutionary's eyes zeroed in on her. He barely got the chance to move before her hand shot out, an invisible barrier knocking his legs out from under him. She didn't waste a second waiting for him to regain his footing and darted down the side street.

Momentum propelled her until her jog turned into frantic leaps. Puddle water clung to the hem of her cloak as though the world fiercely sought to drag her into its depths. More than once, she teetered on the verge of lumbering into the chaos. Batons swung. Gun barrels roared. Maimed bodies hit the rain-sodden concrete with a thud and blank eyes.

A flare burst in the middle of the disarray and indistinguishable figures scattered, silhouetted in the mist as the smoke buried them. Several stayed behind, defiant and fearless in their cause as they shrieked their war cries and unleashed their fury.

Dodging and weaving, Esther's only aim was to outrun the ripping grasps that threatened to capture her. There was no obvious way of discerning how this had happened or why the industrial city had descended into turmoil. All she had was the pungent stench of burning plastic swarming her nostrils and the crunch of broken storefronts beneath her escape.

Another explosive popped, this one loaded with liquid. Drenched in crimson light, the splatters landed on bare flesh, harvesting distressed screeches from the insurgents. Officers reacted swiftly to the brief lapse and slung them into the waiting trucks.

Consumed in the cruelty, she spun around and slammed into a boulder of a man in pitch armour. His hands clasped her throat and her world became a fuzzy grey mirage. He didn't bother asking for her identity, simply continued crushing.

The fear in her watering eyes reflected in the polished surface of his visor once he'd hoisted her into the air. She tried to conjure her magic to push him off of her, but it faltered around her palms like a panicked insect and recoiled underneath her skin. No, she thought. This wasn't how it happened. I overpowered him. I got away.

He drew back his arm, leather gloves creaking as he clenched his fist. The sheen of his blood-soaked jacket manifested a distorted view of the street and in one fell strike, the darkness received her.

With a wheeze and an arced punch, Esther jolted awake, clammy and gasping to mitigate the ache in her ribs. Wisps of her braid stuck to her cheek, and she combed her fingers along her hairline to rake them all back.

"Hey there, quick shot," Lucy chuckled nervously, withdrawing from the side of the bed. "It's me. Sorry to wake you."

"Not a problem," Esther panted. "Didn't catch you, did I?"