#nbl downfall

Rich remembered.

He remembered his life. He remembered leaving the Brotherhood. He remembered loving Sophie, and everything that came after. His hands shook as he remembered holding her head down in a barrel of water. He turned away, trying to escape himself.

"Come on, Masterson, come peacefully and it'll go easier for you," Rich called. Aaron chuckled, the sound ringing throgh the shadows. 

"You know the last time I came peacefully Travayne tortured me. you came for me and left a trail of bodies," Aaron called back. He heard Rasoul's sharp intake of breath and chuckled again.

"You're a little muddled there, ol' boy. Travayne is dead, and you haven't been captured." Rich called back. Aaron chuckled again, shaking his head.

"Yousefi with you?" Aaron asked, though he could hear the other man's heartbeat.

"I'm here, Masterson." Yousefi answered, tone cautious.

"You should tell Rich who killed Travayne." He heard Yousefi draw in another sharp breath, and he could almost feel Rich's confusion.  "Do you know, Rich?"

"A rogue Brother. Someone who defected. Someone they thought was loyal but turned out to be a traitor." Rich answered, voice tight. Aaron laughed.

"Did they name him to you?" Aaron challeneged. Rich let out a breath, licking his lip and blinking hard.

"It was you, Masterson." Yousefi's voice was calm. 

"Ah. That's Patrick North spinning it, isn't it?" Aaron would recognize his mentor's work anywhere. "It was me? Me who broke in, me who killed a bunch of Brotherhood bastards, me who tortured and killed Travayne."

"Yes." Yousefi's voice was tighter, and closer. Aaron shook his head.

"Getting hands dirty like that, Rich- who does that sound like? Me or you, ol' boy?" he drawled, stepping out of the shadows. The pair of Brotherhood hunters hadn't spotted him yet, but he watched them move together as one unit. Rich had always, always been good at this. It would take him a moment longer to see Aaron there; when he did, Aaron took another step forward.

"Sounds like a traitor." Rich said; there was anger and betrayal in his voice, and it would have pained Aaron if it wasn't laughable. His smile flashed in the gloom, however; it was fucking hilarious that it had come to this.

"Couldn't have been me, I was being held and tortured by Travayne." Aaron said, voice cheerful. Rich shook his head, blinking again.

"you were saving Claire Novak." Rich said. Aaron laughed again,the sound hollow.

"The time I saved Claire, I died. Carter shot me like a dog in the street." Aaron told him. Rich lowered his gun ever so slightly, but Yousefi kept his steady. "Luckily ! have friends in high places."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"Evelyn resurrected me. Crowley pardoned me. You became a demon to rescue me, remember that? She gave you a fucked up deal and made you a demon, and then you threw over your perfect life with Sophie so you could-"

"you talk too much, Masterson." Yousefi said, firing his weapon. Youseif was a dead shot, even in the half dark; he missed Aaron's heart by milimetres. Aaron touched the wound, expelling the bullet and healing himself.

"Nice shot. But it takes more than that these days." Aaron said, his eyes flashing gold. rich's eyes narrowed, but both Brotherhood hunters remained steady.

"I could cut your heart out. That'd give you pause." Rasoul countered. Aaron chuckled again, the sound cold and devoid of humor. 

"Try it, if you think you have the balls." Grace magic electrified the air around them. "I promise you, though, they won't be able to find remains to put you to rest, and where I'll throw you? you'll pray to me for deliverance. There are fates worth than death and I will inflict as many as I can think of on you. But come at me, Rasoul. Prove you believe in the Light more than you believe in my power to torture you." Aaron's cltohes faded away, to be replaced by the shining armour of Heaven's Army. His sword was bright in the light, his smile gleaming in the dark. Rasoul, well trained and devoted, managed not to run or drop his weapon; but he swallowed hard, forcing himself steady, unable to answer.

"What the fuck," rich said, eyes widening. His firearm dropped tohis side, his stance relaxing. Aaron turned to him, shaking his head at his oldest friend.

"You killed her. The love of your life, your light in the dark. you called her sugar and you have two beautiful children and you were getting married and you killed her, you drowned her with your damned filthy hands, you took her out of this world because you forgot everything." his voice shook ,his anger radiating through the building. "All you've ever done is hurt her, and she's a precious gift. Well, you can't hurt her anymore, but I can get to you. Vengeance is mine, and you don't get to walk away this time." 

He seemed to expand, flexing his wings, though Rich and Rasoul couldn't see them. Rasoul's knees shook and he began ot buckle under the onslaught of Aaron's rage; Rich was frozen in fear and awe.

"Aaron-"

"run, Rasoul. Get out of my sight before I smite you for the old fashioned satisfaction of slaying my enemies." rasoul dropped his weapon and backed away, hands shaking and heart hammering. "If you ever come into my sight again, have no doubt I will end you." THe hunter's scrambling footsteps echoed in the dark, and Aaron and rich were left alone. 

Aaron considered his old friend for a moment. Since Rich defected, they'd been through a lot together. Their bond had been firmer than ever, and Aaron had been grateful for it. But he had other ties, too; he loved Sophie like she was hiso wn flesh and blood. he loved the twins. They were his family, and Rich was a threat. Sighing, he advanced on his friend.

"I won't absolve you, not yet. But is there anything... last words?" Aaron's voice had softened, still reverberating with power. Rich shook hishead slowly.

"You gon' kill me?" rich asked.

"Only for a bit."

"Huh." Rich closed his eyes, sinknig to his knees. Aaron moved to him, raising his sword. "I forgive you, Aaron. Whatever reason you're doin this, I forgive you. you're still my brother."

By all accounts, a terrorist attack had hit a research facility in Southern Nevada. Rescue teams were still trying to put the fires out, and there was yet no fatality count, but all were assuming high.

He was gone.

In every way that mattered to her, it was as if he was still dead. She was as good as dead to him, and he had made it clear she had no place in his life. Hel had been surviving, living with the knowledge of his death. She had mourned him.

She had thought he had died not knowing how she felt truly, but now it seemed that didn't even matter. No matter her feelings, she was nothing to him. She had no future with him, nothing.

And she couldn't stand to stay in that room and see his cold, emotionless stare any longer.

Hel had no destination initially in mind, but somehow she found herself in the last place she would have considered. She made her way over the remains of the craggy mountain, slowly walking over the craters caused by the final blast. Nothing had changed since the day Zirnitra had died, since they had pulled his body from the rubble.

Nothing had changed.

He had died that day... and though he lived, a dejected part of her wondered if it might not have been better if he had stayed dead. She cursed lowly, hating herself for such thoughts, knowing that Peri and the others were overjoyed to see him. It was only she that was forced to suffer.

And Alaric. The boy who would now have no chance at existence. She couldn't blame the young man for his outburst. His very life was on the life. She was proud of his loyalty, and with a sad smile considered that she would have been proud to be his mother.

But it wasn't to be. She was no one to him.

And that was as the fates wished.

As she moved through the mountain, the memories of that terrible day plagued her, and she stopped multiple times, almost doubting her ability to continue as tears began to fall. She sat in silence, leaning against the rocks as the sun began to sink below the horizon.

Those monsters had killed him. Captured him, destroyed his mind, turned him against his own kind, and used him like a toy. She had already greatly destroyed their numbers in her initially search for Zirnitra... but now she needed more.

Had he not died on this mountain, had they not taken him, lured him into at trap, he would still know her. Perhaps even... she shook her head, unable to consider the thought that hurt her more. The so-called Brotherhood would pay for this slight.

Their facilities were hardly as inconspicuous as they would like, and if nothing else, she was the daughter of the Trickster. Finding a few puny humans, especially a number exuding such hate and prejudice, strong desires, would be a simple task.

A small facility would be pointless. They could easily replenish their numbers. But something larger would send a message to the humans. And even more than that... she wanted their blood on her hands.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 

She had found the perfect target. It was one of their larger facilities, filled with staff and technology, and bustling with activity, even at such a late hour. Dusk had fallen over the desert, and her patience was already thin.

Waiting for morning, no matter how poetic it might have been, was not an option.

The building had seven entrances in various locations. With a simple trick her father had taught her, she entered at all seven at once. She held her human form but for only a few moments, long enough to find her first victims.

As she took hold of each human, her true form began to bleed through, and she couldn't help the sneer on her features as she met the eyes of her victims. It would have been too simple to snap their necks or to simply tear their heads from their shoulders. That would have been too kind.

Far too kind a punishment for all their misdeeds. For those they had harmed.

No good deed goes unpunished. No act of charity goes unresented.

Instead, she broke the back of each, a precise and skilled hand keeping them alive, but rendering them paralyzed. Some from the waist down, some watching on in horror completely helpless as none of their limbs would move. The further she moved into the compound, the more that tried to attack her, tried to capture her. Tried to kill her. She left the fools in piles on the floor, leaving them to watch helplessly as she did the same to their comrades.

No good deed goes unpunished, that's my new creed.

Once she reached the center of the compound, she rejoined herself, one complete being again. As she moved through the halls, she destroyed every piece of technology she could get her hands on. Cameras, motherboards, anything that fell into her path was rendered useless.

All but for one. The silly humans had given themselves doomsday preparations of sorts. Security system that would ensure nothing harmful could enter once activated. With a dark grin, she activated the system as she left the building. Those few she hadn't paralyzed would not even be able to leave now. They were locked in their little building like rats, unable to escape.

My road of good intentions led where such roads always lead.

Trapped. Injured. Forced to watch as their world crumbled around them and buried them.

Once she was clear of the building she took to the air and set about her final task. With an echoing snap of her fingers, explosives began to ignite and explode, consuming the buildings of the compound. The explosions kept coming, over and over, utterly destroying every square inch of what had been the Brotherhood's facility.

No good deed goes unpunished. Sure I meant well, well look at what well meant did. Alright, enough. So be it. So be it then.

She centered herself and searched for the souls of those that might remain. An airy, dark laugh cackled on the wind as she took off.

Let all be agreed, I'm wicked through and through. Since I could not succeed, Zirnitra saving you...

No survivors. All the remained were the pillars of flame lighting up the night sky in the otherwise vacant desert.

The Vault? Not the - fuck. 

>We copy you, Captain. Status?

>Device retrieved. We've lost some of our number to an unforseen attack and there has been no call back from Sergeant Pryce. But we are en route back to base with what we came for, ETA about 5 hours. Inform Senator Rearson immediately for briefing protocols and the next step.

Merrick groaned.

Shit. What had happened? The last thing he remembered, they were retrieving the Hayyan Device-...then there was some kind of distress order (but they'd been hearing those the entire mission), and then it was like the whole fucking mountain collapsed. A cave-in or something? He thought they would have been able to predict something like that happening beforehand, but admittedly with all the magic and shit messing the place up...

...well. The fact he could remember that was a good sign he was still alive, at least.

He opened his eyes, blinking slowly. It was dark, and the air thick with the dust of pulverized stone. It made him cough and left a chalky texture in his mouth, causing him to grimace slightly.

He managed to force himself into a sitting position. Everything ached like a bitch, but nothing felt serious enough to be fatal. So that was another point in his favor.  

He pulled his radio from his belt, tried to contact the rest of his unit. See if anyone else was still alive, or hurt, or at least to figure out what the hell happened. 

"All units." Another cough. "...khaak. All units, this is-...this is Sergeant Merrick Pryce...do you copy?"

Nothing but static in return.

Great. So this was where the luck decided to peter out.

He sighed in frustration. At this rate, he'd have to find his own way out of this mess. Gingerly, he decided to try standing next, to make sure and see if his legs still worked. He managed to get up on one knee, only to be forced back down onto the ground with a slight hiss of pain. His other foot was pinned beneath the rubble.

"Nngh...fuck."

Even though he knew it was likely futile, Merrick kept trying his radio, in-between bouts of pushing and shoving at some of the rock that had him trapped. He'd survived worse, he was NOT going to die in here. Not when they were so close to seeing their plan work out-...not when they were so close to wiping every last one of these goddamn supes off the face of the planet!

Eventually he fell back with a tired huff. 

No use. The massive pile of earth wouldn't budge.

"All units, this is Sergeant Pryce...goddammit...does anyone copy? Can ANYONE hear me?!"

His words faded into silence.

But it wasn't silent for long. 

Soon enough, he thought he heard another noise, coming from somewhere in the gloom ahead of him.

"Yyyyoooooooou..."

He took no chances. He drew his weapon, flicking the light on the top of it on and aiming it around, trying to see. Did something else survive the rockslide? If it was another Brother, they might be able to help him get loose. But if it was one of those freaks, he was going to make sure he killed it before it killed him.

He saw nothing, but he continued to hear sounds growing louder and echoing around the cramped tunnel. 

"Who's there? Show yourself! 

"Hahahahaha...hahaha..."

"I'm not warning you again! Show yourself, before I start shooting!"

"Go ahead. Your little bullets cannot hurt me..."

Who...or WHATever was speaking, there was something wrong with its voice. It sounded thick, a burbling growl that devolved into a hiss, almost like it was trying to talk through a gargle of sludge.

He thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye, and he fired off a warning shot, hearing the sharp ping as it ricocheted off the stone.

"Pathetic. Your aim needs work."

Something WAS moving, though - it was rising up from the mound directly in front of him.

He pointed his gun at it, intending to shoot first and ask questions later.

But he faltered, then Merrick's eyes widened as he shrank back in horror.

It was the god.

But it was worse, far worse than he'd ever seen it - battered and bloodied as it pulled its body loose from the pile it had been buried in. He could only describe the strange angle its head sat at and the collapsed-inward state of its ribcage as 'broken' (which would probably explain the horrible noises it was still making), and the less said about the twisted and painful grinding lumps of broken bones he saw shifting just below its skin every time it tried to move, the better.

It should have been in massive amounts of pain - after all, it had been able to feel pain before, hadn't it? Hell, it should have been dead, after they enacted the failsafe, after the fucking cave-in had clearly broken it from the inside out, if the mottled patches of purplish blue and deep red all over its skin were any indication. But no, it seemed to feel nothing, merely continuing to struggle and try to pull its way out as it kept its eyes trained on him - the former blue now a faint, burning orange that glowed in the light from his sidearm.

For a moment, it seemed like it was going to be stuck halfway free, just gargling and reaching out with gnarled fingers caked with dust and blood.

But then something finally seemed to give way, and as it slid down the mound, faint coils of something like...rope (Merrick had to swallow a mouthful of bile that rose up at that - it definitely wasn't rope at all) that made a damp slapping sound and sprayed the stone with a splatter of dark flecks could be seen, turning into a long smear as it continued its slow crawl towards him.

His hands shook as he took aim, but he still fired at it, finger squeezing as fast as it could.

Most of the rounds went wild, sparks flying as they bounced off the surrounding rubble, but he still managed to hit it at least once; its head suddenly slammed to the side as one half of its jaw was ripped through.

It remained unphased though. It merely turned that fiery gaze back to him, spitting out a mouthful of broken teeth and blood before it continued its slow advance, leering at him even as its mouth now hung crooked and slack on one side.

"What is the matter, little rat...? Afraid?"

Of course he ended up fighting to keep the note of terror out of his voice, but he still glared, eyes full of hatred for the...thing...in front of him. "No. Of course I'm not afraid of you. I took you down once, remember? I can do it again."

"You liiiiiie, you worthless mortal. I can smell the fear on you. You STINK of it. What's the matter? Wish to scurry off and hide in a hole somewhere, wait for your 'Brothers' to come and rescue you?"

"Shut up and just die already!" He fired again, this time the bullet hitting the god dead center in the middle of its forehead.

Blood poured from the wound in a high arc as its head jerked back, dripping down the end of its nose, but still it kept coming.

"Sad, sad, scared little human. You have taken down my weakened dog of a brother. But you have never taken down something like me."

This thing...it looked like the god. Horrifically mangled, maybe, but still mostly like the god. But it...wasn't the god?

"What-...what the hell ARE you?"

"I am the last thing you see before death, mortal. I am the darkness itself, closing in on you."

"Yeah. Right." He swallowed roughly. His mouth was just dry from all the dust in the air. That was all. "I don't believe you. You 'gods' are all alike. Big talk, no substance."

"Are you not AFRAID of the dark, little rat? You should be, you know...with the things that LURK within it..."

Merrick said nothing, but he tried the button on his radio again, hoping, hoping that this time someone would answer him.

"Poor little rat. Why haven't they come for you? Why haven't they called~? I thought your Brothers cared about you..."

"Oh, they're coming, ugly. And they'll finish the job on you once and for all."

"Will they? It seems you have outlived your...usefulness. And this...they would consider this failure."

The god had gotten close enough now that it was above him, bracing its mangled arms against the rubble that Merrick was forced to sit against, dripping blood onto his uniform. He could even see the faint remains of a brand, every through the layer of grime and bodily fluids. He tried to focus on it, instead of the wheezing above or the...mess, below.

He didn't say anything. But there was a certain hesitation, that tremble in his fingers as he aimed his gun just under that crooked jaw and its horrible attempt at a grin.

"And they don't LIKE failure, do they? Do they kill you if you fail? Is that why you are so afraid~?"

"Sh-...shut up." There was no mistaking the waver this time, and no matter how he tried, his hands shook too badly for him to pull the trigger.

Just end it. Just fucking shut it up and end it.

"Always overlooked. Always the spare, the second, the last resort. Heh...hahaha...they only need you when no one else can do the work. Like when no one else could get those girls to cooperate. When the other was too afraid to strike my brother down. You ALWAYS get the dirty chore no one wants~..."

He forcibly tried to ignore the way his heart pounded in his chest. The way beads of sweat ran down the side of his face. The gun shook in his hand.

What's the matter with you? Pull the trigger and END IT!

He was struggling. What the god said wasn't true. Of course not. It was just trying to get inside his head, psych it out. That's how these stupid deities worked, they claimed to know more than they actually did just to get a reaction...

"I don't need to get inside your head, little rodent. I can see it in your face. Tell me, do you ever get appreciated? Do they ever acknowledge you as their little muck-boy?"

Merrick's breath caught in his throat. Did it just-?

"No. No, I can tell they don't."

With a nasty cracking sound, the god suddenly tipped its head to the side, as if squinting at him curiously.

"...that's why they won't come for you, isn't it? Because you're just not...worth it."

Shut up. Shut up!

He started firing again, his fingers clutching the gun's handle so hard they turned white and began to ache. Only to have clicks echo painfully in the thick air.

It jammed. Of all the things to happen. He hadn't even run out of ammo yet.

Jammed.

"Ahahaha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Laughter then. It erupted, loud and hacking, blood still continuing to bubble up out of the being's throat with every rattling breath it took.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA! You believed that you truly meant something to them, didn't you? Stupid little rat! They don't care! They don't care about you, they never cared!"

He covered his ears. He tried to block that damn noise out, but it bounced off every surface, it practically seemed to beat itself against his own head.

Shut up shut up shut up STOP LAUGHING AT ME.

"Just because you have a name does not mean they bothered to know it!"

SHUT UP! STOP IT! The words roared in his head, but nothing came out of his mouth.

Coward. Why didn't you end it? Why?! You failed them! They left you behind because you FAILED them!

"But now they've left you alone...all alone...haha...hahaha...with...ME."

A crooked finger tapped at dented skull.

"...well, not alone. You see, little mortal, or perhaps you can't, I can feel how angry he is in here, you know. How much he wants to end you. How terrible he feels about how he could have finished off the little half-breed, to watch the light die in her eyes as he took the very air from her...I would have loved to see his face if he HAD succeeded in killing her. OR the cold one, you should have felt how his heart simply -raced- when she screamed out~..."

...its head tilted, almost as if regarding him curiously.

"But then again. You are here. And it would be a shame if I didn't give him one last request...we ARE brothers, after all. Hhahahahahaha!"

Merrick would have gasped, but suddenly he couldn't breathe. Smoke was flooding his throat, his nose; thick smoke that reeked of burning flesh and the must of earthen rot. It even felt like it was trying to invade his eyes and ears, and tears flowed from them as it burned. He didn't have time to question the how, he could only try to draw breath, becoming more desperate as his vision swam with tears and each cough, each choke, made his head a little bit lighter.

And then a hand was around his throat, tightly squeezing. It was then he let his panic wash over him, and he struggled, blindly striking out with his pistol and feeling it smash into the mangled face, the squelch of torn flesh and rough edge of bone against his own hand over and over and over again, boots kicking out and getting tangled in the remains of its lower half. But the grip didn't loosen, and that garbled laughter still rang off the walls and in his ears stop laughing stop laughing STOP LAUGHING!

Stop it-!

Stop-...

Eventually, he stilled.

Just in time for the orange to burn away.

o o o o o o o o o o o o

Zir wasn't sure what had happened. All he knew was that suddenly everything hurt. Everything. Worse than he'd ever felt before. And he couldn't move. And it was so hard to breathe. Like a hand had wrapped around his torso and squeezed as hard as it could.

Stone surrounded him, and for a brief, terrifying moment, he thought he was back in his cell.

But no. Not the cell. Somewhere else. He couldn't remember where.

A mountain. That was all he could hold on to.

What was this beneath him? His hand. Around a throat. A body. Human. It was dead, it smelled of stillness. It was-...someone he recognized. It was the human who had attacked him, back in Wyoming. The serpent-tongued one.

What-...had he killed him? Finally?

Oh how badly he hurt. He needed-...he needed magic. A pain ward. Something. So he could focus. If only-...he could...

He tried. Tried to well up something.

...but he felt none. Not a spark. For the first time ever, he had...no magic at all.

He realized he was, essentially...mortal. He'd never felt this weak before.

It was a terrifying thought. If he was this weak, then he might-...he might-...

His vision was dimming. The right eye was going first. The entire side of his face felt torn, as if he'd scraped it open on the jagged stones around him. 

Aw. Poor little mutt. You might have made it if I didn't use up your power.

Zir could feel how his heart was straining, but even as it struggled to keep going, it still managed to throb faster in fear when he heard HIS voice, twisting its way through his pain.

He was afraid. That voice...somehow he knew it wasn't lying to him this time.

Don't worry...you'll be back in my darkness soon enough.

No. No, he couldn't. He couldn't go back. If he went back, he might never leave again.

He couldn't-...he couldn't do that to them. He'd hurt them. he had-...had to help them.

At the very least, he had to tell them he was-...sorry.

Far far too late for that, now isn't it?

If not that, then to tell them...goodbye.

Don't worry. It's not REALLY goodbye, Zirnitra. At least. Not for long. Hahahaha...

The voice was growing fainter. The silence thicker.

But even as he fought to stay awake, to stay...alive. Just to stay at all. 

Things started to fade.

Every breath was growing shallower.

Every heartbeat slower.

And the world...grew darker.

Not much longer now.

If there was one comfort, though...he had to admit it was the cold. 

More than just cold, it was a numbness that settled into his very bones. It soothed the pain. Almost encouraged him to slip away into it.

...he wondered why?

Was it because it was like home? The mountains?

...no. Not the mountains.

Her.

Her home.

The Black is calling, Zirnitra.

Time to come home~.