The Oracle Of Kairos

Oracle couldn’t help the small frown, still carefully cradling Zoryas broken form.

“I… I know. I thought about it, but… A lot has changed, little one. I’m not about to put things back to how they were, either but… I couldn’t just abandon her.”

There would be questions, certainly. Concerncs too. But they could wait.

Sviat floats a bit away from Oracle, still hidden from view of the others’. He takes a glance at Zorya - all bloodied, bruised, thinner…

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

The Ghost looks back at Oracle, shaking his shell.

"Hide in my pack... I'll get you two to my tent. It's heated."

He couldn’t help but wince in sympathy, gently pressing against her side and leaning closer, running a hand through her hair.

“It’s alright… Just… Take it easy… We’ll get you cleaned up, and put back together once we find Sviat, but…”

He didn’t finish, content to cradle her there in the snow.

Oracle’s familiar touch makes it easier to pass, especially after so long of nothing else but harsh treatment. The pain stops finally, the last breath leaves her lungs, and her eyes glaze over.

The Ghost feels this in their Light, his shell shuddering a bit. It’s never a pleasant thing. But it makes him float up to Oracle finally and he presses his shell against the man’s chest.

"I... I know. I thought about it, but... A lot has changed, little one. I'm not about to put things back to how they were, either but... I couldn't just abandon her."

The Oracle stormed forward, emptying the rest of his magazine into her. She’d proven durable *and* slimy in the past. There was no way he was risking another getaway.

Once she was gone, however…

He dropped down like a stone, kneeling next to Zorya and carefully reaching forward to cradle her head.

Zorya’s breath is shallow, ragged, wheezing, and she coughs up blood violently when she tries to speak. 

It’s cold. So very cold.

Sviat finally wiggles out from the cage and immediately flies over to hide between the Warlock and the Warlord, out of sight. He knows it’s going to be far easier if she dies than if he tries to heal her.

"It's alright... Just... Take it easy... We'll get you cleaned up, and put back together once we find Sviat, but..."

The distraction is enough, The Oracle hopes.

Immediately he raised his sidearm, firing three shots. Hoping to catch her torso enough to knock her over, at least.

But he doesn’t wait to see, leaping forward in a glide to bring his light to bare once again.

Her body jolts with each bullet and she stumbles a step, then collapses, wheezing and moaning in pain. That’s not how she wanted it to go…

Once she was gone, however...

The Oracle froze, hovering a few feet away, his own sidearm level with her head.

“Alright. I’m stopping.”

He swallowed, one hand going behind his back as he slowly lowered his gun. Hopefully *one* of his men would catch the hint and fire. But until then, she had him at the disadvantage.

“Let me leave. I will let the Ghost go when I’m safe.” The woman demands, making a step back where the line of trees starts. 

The Warlord, with her last strength, rolls to her side and crawls towards the other to try and trip her.

Immediately he raised his sidearm, firing three shots. Hoping to catch her torso enough to knock her over, at least.

Feeling the solar light fade out from the exo, The Oracle took a breath and let the trance fade, coming down to try and get a grip on his surroundings, and finally spotting the skirmish beyond him.

With a growl, he drew his own sidearm and sprinted forward, hoping to get an angle on the woman stabbing Zorya.

A bullet reaches the woman faster than Oracle can take aim and she grips at her shoulder, swaying to the side. But the knife hit the mark nonetheless, penetrating the lung, and leaving Zorya gasping for air.

Another bullet wheezes past Sviat’s cage on the woman’s belt, which brings her attention from her own injury to the Ghost. She pushes herself up to her feet and holds the cage up, her other hand bringing a sidearm to it’s side.

"Alright. I'm stopping."

A side effect of the trance was a loss of the finer details around him. Oracle couldn’t sense where his target had gone, only that she’d vanished into the background noise.

The tug of the exos circuits catching his arc pulled his attention to his pursuer, spinning on the spot to dart forward and bring down the lightning on the solar flare instead.

Zorya and the other woman struggle to get an upper hand on each other, and the Hunter really hopes someone comes to help her. Without her Light and with the injuries she can’t hold the other down for long.

The situation turns sour even quicker when the woman finds the injury with her elbow and it stuns Zorya enough so the other can twist out of the hold. A stray bullet isn’t fast enough to stop the leader from sinking a knife in the Warlord’s chest.

The Oracle trusted his own men to hold. It may not be pretty at the end of things, but they would not go quietly.

He could feel the rising solar heat behind him, lifting gently off the ground and advancing on the leader while he could, letting the trance flow as deadly strikes of Arc flowed out from his fingers towards his target.

Zorya manages to shake off the haze of hypothermia, shock, and the recent treatment, and scrambles back up to her feet. She looks around, still more than a bit confused -  in all the heat of battle, no one really pays attention to her.

Both the Exo and the leader of the group have their backs to her, and she hesitates for a moment - it’s either helping Oracle or his men. The Hunter figures he has a better chance against another Lightbearer than the others and so she runs towards the woman. Maybe she can even free Sviat from the suppression cage if she’s lucky.

With the little strength she has, she uses the binding on her wrists as a garrote. The two of them slip on the snow, but even though Zorya’s vision blurs from the pain, she doesn’t let go.

Naïve? Perhaps.

Stupid? Certainly not.

Merciful? Not anymore.

Oracle’s own handgun went back to his belt as he dodged to the left, a stray piece of solar light catching the hem of his coat.

Once he found solid ground again he shouted out, before letting his eyes close and attempting to focus.

“KILL THEM ALL!”

His hands came together, forming a triangle as he felt his veins alight with the familiar feeling of Arc and Light as he let the trance overtake him, preparing to lunge forth and counter charge with thunderous fury, once his troops had a chance to soften and scatter the group.

Their men focus on Oracle’s men, fully ignoring the fighting Risen. Flashes of firing guns accompany those of Arc, and the warmer flicker of Solar. It’s a mess and they know it, but they still have faith in the ideals their leaders instilled in them. They’re fighting the good cause, right?

#♡ ———｡- ; ❝ You're certainly a quirky one, ❞ Pex's lashes flutter as she leans against the broken wall of a building. One of the districts still left barely touched following the Red War, nobody seemed to like the reminder of walking through the remains of war. Still, here she was, creeping up on a Warlock who seemed completely entranced in whatever he was doing.

She bats her cloak aside with a subtle smirk, caught in her ego of seeming slightly cool for the moment. ❝ Pex. &. you are, stranger ? ❞

The Oracle's initial indignant blabbering quickly gave way to quiet frustration, brow furrowing as he leveled his eyes with the Hunter, motioning to the ruins.

"Yes, well. Ruins they may be now, people USED to live here, people who I know and who would very much like to know what's still standing... Not that it's much, especially now..."

He grumbled something under his breath, shaking his head.

"And frankly, you have NO right to be lecturing me on suspicious. Stasis' black ice is still black, no matter how you might try to hide it in an alley's shadow. I've seen more trustworthy faces on the twisted shore."

CORSAIRDCWN •:

♡ ;; ❝ Please, ❞ Pex is lacing her words with poison, carefully sprinkling powder to resign all saliva in one's throat as she offers a drink of her own agitation. ❝ Stasis is the least of our worries right now. Do you know how long I spent fighting it before it became part of me ? ❞

Too long. Too long spent running, hiding what horrible blizzard she'd kicked in her storm. She lost sight of what weather she wanted to stow away in, trailing from the electrocuting invigoration to grim winter flurry. Frozen daggers pierced the ace of hearts she held to her chest in that blindsided era; Violence. She let that consume her.

But now is different; now she is one with the Dark. She's accepted it as her &. how she will be perceived, &. since then the harsh winds have went quiet. Pex has some peace of mind when she sleeps at night, only gentle rocking leaves of nostalgia in the breeze.

❝ You know, there's a reason Warlocks are perceived as snobs. ❞ How rude. But she has every right to it as she sees it. She'd intended only a small shock &. now she's being accused of tainting from the enemy.

"Close Minded, Maybe. Cautious, certainly. And old, seems to become more apt by the day."

He crouched back down, trying to pick through the shattered tiles and rusting framework for anything of sentimental value that might remain.

“Oh to the Dark with that. Even you aren’t stupid enough to think you have any of my patience left to bargain with. You’ve proven twice already you’re just going to leverage any allowances I give you.”

His handgun raised up, pointing up into the sky as he held it at rest.

“You can either do the decent thing for the first time in your lives and make some concessions, of we can find out the hard way who the light favors.”

The woman scoffs. “You’re too naïve for those times, Oracle. Too bad, cause you’re damn smart, could go a long way.”

She attaches the cage to her belt, and surprisingly, lowers her gun. For a moment, it seems like she’s going to order her men to surrender. Her next words say otherwise, though:

“We will take our chances.” 

A shot rings out and Zorya’s blood splatters the snow, her body staying upwards for a bit, a gaping hole in the side of her head, before she slumps to the ground. Without a moment of delay, Arc crackles around the leader’s hands and she floats back, while the Exo swings the hammer at the ground, sending a burst of Solar towards Oracle.

Stupid? Certainly not.

Merciful? Not anymore.

Oracle's own handgun went back to his belt as he dodged to the left, a stray piece of solar light catching the hem of his coat.

Once he found solid ground again he shouted out, before letting his eyes close and attempting to focus.

"KILL THEM ALL!"

Oracle’s handgun came out, but it was pointed at Zorya, not the runaways.

“This line goes on all the way to the Ridgeline. Only way you’re getting through alive is if we let you through, and I’m not having my people escort you til you put down your weapons.”

The Oracle’s head nodded back towards the line.

“No one here is going to shoot until you do. So stow your arms, and you’ll get passage through.”

Zorya rolls to her side and lifts herself on one elbow, but when she raises her head to look around and sees the gun pointed at her, she freezes instantly. Whatever game Oracle is playing, she doesn’t like it at all.

The leader glances down to her, then to the Warlock.

“Are you going to shoot her yourself?” She snickers, not really waiting for an answer. “I don’t trust you. We’re not putting down our weapons. We don’t need an escort either.” She cocks her gun, and Sviat shudders in his cage.

His handgun raised up, pointing up into the sky as he held it at rest.

Oracle cursed under his breath before leaping over the line.

“Lights on! Heavy weapons, prioritize the Risen!”

He ran forward, coming to stand between his lines and the attempted escapees.

“Stop! We have you on two flanks. Drop your weapons and surrender peaceably, and you’ll be treated fairly. Persist, and we will put you down, risen or not.”

“Oracle!” Zorya cries out, her voice hoarse, again trying to get away from her captors, but is reigned back by the woman, and she slips on the snow. With her hands bound, she can’t catch her balance, and she falls on her back with a yelp. There is a flash of crimson on the bland clothes she has on, and this time it’s much harder for her to get up.

The Exo doesn’t let the hammer dissipate, though the men hold their fire. The leader makes a step back, and instead of pointing the gun at the Hunter, Oracle, or anyone else, she points the gun at the Ghost in the cage.

"This line goes on all the way to the Ridgeline. Only way you're getting through alive is if we let you through, and I'm not having my people escort you til you put down your weapons."

The Oracle's head nodded back towards the line.

Oracle sent word up the line as soon as possible to darken the lights and use what low light vision they had to try and surprise the group as they approached, bringing his own fellow Lightbearers and the heavy weapons unit onto the front where he hoped they’d be exiting into view. He made sure a lighter contingent had orders to circle around, both to flush them out and recover their wounded.

Oracle himself joined his fellow risen, eyes locked on the treeline before them as he watched for any sign of movement.

Soon, a group of eight comes towards the tree line, all of the armed, aside of three at the front. Suddenly, there is a commotion - a small silhouette trying to run off, but is pulled back by someone much bigger, and thrown to the ground.

An exchange carries over the open space:

“Why don’t we leave her, for fucks sake?” “No. She’s our bargaining chip.” “We have her Ghost, why is it –?” “Shhh…”

A blazing hammer ignites in the Exo’s hands, illuminating everyone around him, which probably is not the best idea. But Oracle can clearly see the small figure trying to scramble to her feet, and the alliance leader holding an intricate cage with a Ghost inside.

"Lights on! Heavy weapons, prioritize the Risen!"

He ran forward, coming to stand between his lines and the attempted escapees.

He nods firmly, rising to join the man outside.

“Absolutely. Bring them here to camp, if they’re civilians we can make sure they’re safely over the line, but don’t take any chances. Wouldn’t be the first band of saboteurs they’ve tried to bluff past us.”

Not so long later, a distress call comes in through the radio:

[They had Risen, attacked us on sight. We have casualties. Those who can are tracking them, seems like one of them got injured, but we can’t take them alone. Possible sighting of Lady Zorya. Sending coordinates of the last known position.]

The Oracle offered him a firm nod.

“Very true. As much as I wish to aid them, I’m afraid we can only expect the worst. Increase the overlap on the night patrols if we can, I don’t want anything slipping through the cracks while I’m focused elsewhere.”

He inhaled slowly.

“And, I feel the need to say… No matter what Lady Zorya claims, our territory is no longer her dominion. We haven’t made a life out of this hellscape just to hand it back over to a tyrant.”

It’s not like either of the men is going to disagree - Zorya was a terrible ruler, and they held little to no love for her. Oracle, on the other hand, suited them well.

—

During the night, one of them enters Oracle’s tent.

The Oracle’s eyes narrowed, and those who knew him well enough recognized the soft sigh of sympathy he couldn’t help but let out.

He shouldn’t, but this campaign was costly on all fronts…

“Tell them this. If they send Zorya back unharmed and intact, I will have my troops relinquish control of the farmland back into your hands. Fates willing, if you’re quick, you’ll have enough time left to garner a full harvest.”

She fidgets with the cloth, looking at him as if she doesn’t understand at first, but when the meaning of his words register, she can barely hold back tears. The state of the woman is a good indicator of the state of the rest of the civilians - scared, hungry, barely getting by. Oracle’s decision brings some hope into her heart, though, and will to many others.

“Thank you… T-Thank you, so much. I will t-t-tell them… I h-hope they listen…”

Was that term made up by her, or was it a message from the alliance?

She rushes away, dropping the white cloth on the way, and disappears behind the gates. After a while, a single shot rings out through the air, then everything falls silent again.

"Very true. As much as I wish to aid them, I'm afraid we can only expect the worst. Increase the overlap on the night patrols if we can, I don't want anything slipping through the cracks while I'm focused elsewhere."

He inhaled slowly.