Chapter 28 - Asset #9
The group followed Steve and Julia down the winding metal staircase to the rune-enchanted grate containing Asset 9. Siurad approached warily, his hand hovering near his sword hilt.
Thirty feet down, the beast was still asleep. Its massive chest rose and fell rhythmically, exhaling wisps of shadow that dissolved into the air like dry ice.
“That is certainly something,” Alexander whispered, clutching his holy symbol. “I assume it does not fetch?”
Steve approached the grate first. The massive skeleton knelt, the metal walkway groaning under his weight, and hooked his thick, fused finger-bones through the iron mesh. He turned his skull to look at Julia.
The skeleton in the sundress stepped forward. She raised a skeletal palm, and a flare of necrotic green energy surged forth. The light washed over the angry red runes etched into the metal. There was a hissing sound, like water hitting a hot pan, and the runes flared a bright, iridescent green before flickering and dying out.
The magical seal was broken.
With a grinding shriek of metal on stone, Steve hauled the heavy grate open, revealing the narrow stone stairway leading into the dark.
The noise awoke the beast.
Down in the pit, the wolf’s head snapped up. Its eyes were a dull grey. The wolf seemed passive. Siurad could tell that it was for show; it was alert, predatory, and dangerous. It darted its gaze toward the opening, lips peeling back to reveal teeth that looked like obsidian daggers.
Then, it saw them.
It looked past Steve. It looked past Julia. Its gaze locked onto the man in black armor standing at the edge of the pit.
The wolf rose to its haunches, its ears perking up. As it stared at Siurad,and at the Ring on his finger, the dull grey glow in its eyes vanished.
A deep, vibrant Violet flared to life, illuminating the bottom of the pit with the light of the Void.
'…THE HOUND RECOGNIZES THE VOID,' Obi pulsed, a warm vibration against Siurad’s knuckle. '...GO TO HIM, SHEPHERD.'
“Wait, why me?” Siurad protested, stepping back. “This was Yona’s idea. Send the fox.”
“You heard Mr.Spooky. You are the Heir. You are the Vessel. Go get 'em, champ,” Yona said with a grin, nudging him toward the open grate.
Siurad looked over to Alexander, eyes wide, pleading for assistance.
Alexander immediately became fascinated with a crack in the ceiling, averting his gaze entirely.
‘Fuck,’ Siurad thought.
'…DO NOT BE A COWARD,' Obi chided. '...STEVE AND JULIA WILL JUDGE YOU.’
Siurad glanced at the skeletons. Steve tilted his massive skull. Julia adjusted her sun hat. They did look judgmental.
“I am not Xara,” Siurad hissed. “I don't care if they judge me. Dogs bite. Wolves kill. That thing is a tank with fur.”
“Hey, don't be a pu—” Yona started.
Siurad raised his hand, cutting her off. “Fine.”
He took a deep breath and took the first shaky step onto the stairway. The metal clanged loudly in the quiet pit.
‘No worries,’ Siurad told himself as he descended into the gloom. ‘If things go left, we just Void Step out of here. Maybe it will escape and bite Yona in the ass. Serves her right.’
'…I WILL TELL HER YOUR THOUGHTS,' Obi threatened.
‘Hey!’ Siurad snapped back mentally. ‘She just called you a sticker! Pick a side, Obi!’
'…HMPH.'
The descent felt like walking into a freezer. With every step Siurad took, the air grew colder, the ambient heat of the volcano sucked away by the creature waiting below.
When Siurad’s boot finally touched the stone floor of the pit, the silence was absolute.
The wolf was standing ten feet away. Up close, "German Shepherd size" felt like a gross understatement. The beast was dense. Its fur wasn't just black; it was a physical absence of light, shifting like smoke in a draft.
The violet eyes locked onto Siurad.
Siurad froze. He slowly, carefully, held out a hand.
“Hey there,” Siurad whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “Nice... Asset. Good... void puppy.”
The wolf didn't growl. It lowered its head, sniffing the air. It took a step forward. Then another. Its movement was liquid, silent.
'…HE IS HUNGRY,' Obi noted.
‘I don’t have any ham,’ Siurad panicked.
'…HE DOES NOT NEED HAM. HE NEEDS RESONANCE. GIVE HIM A PULSE.'
‘A pulse? Like... magic?’
'…JUST A TASTE. DO NOT OVERLOAD HIM.'
The wolf was close now. Close enough that Siurad could feel the cold radiating off its snout. The beast sniffed Siurad’s armored knee, then moved up to his hand,specifically, the hand with the Ring.
Siurad closed his eyes, focused on the connection with Obi, and pushed a tiny sliver of Void energy into the Ring.
Hum.
The Ring vibrated. A small ripple of violet energy distorted the air.
The wolf’s reaction was instant. It didn't bite. It gently bumped its cold nose against the Ring, inhaling the energy with a soft, contented chuff.
The violet light in the wolf's eyes flared brighter, syncing perfectly with the pulse of the Ring.
The wolf sat down. It looked up at Siurad, tongue lolling out, tail sweeping across the bone-littered floor. Thump. Thump. Thump.
It wasn't a monster. It was the newest member of the pack.
Siurad blinked. The fear evaporated, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming urge that defied all logic.
He reached out and scratched the wolf behind the ears. The fur felt strange,like touching static electricity and velvet at the same time.
“Who’s a good boy?” Siurad murmured, his voice dropping an octave into 'pet voice.' “You are. Yes, you are. You’re a terrifying little void-eater, aren't you?”
The wolf leaned into the touch, closing its eyes.
“Siurad?” Yona’s voice echoed from thirty feet above. “Did he eat you yet? I need to know if I should start looting your corpse.”
Siurad looked up, grinning.
“He likes me,” Siurad shouted back.
He looked back down at the wolf.
“We can’t call you Asset 9,” Siurad whispered. “That’s a cop name. You need something cool.”
'…RUNE,' Obi suggested. '…HE IS A LIVING TESTAMENT. RUNE SUITS HIM.'
“Rune,” Siurad tested the name.
The wolf’s ears perked up. He let out a sharp, happy bark.
“Rune it is,” Siurad said. He stood up, tapping his thigh. “Come on, Rune. Let’s go scare some cultists.”
Rune followed Siurad up the stairs, keeping pace slightly behind his right heel. The violet glow in his eyes faded back to a dull, unassuming grey, and the wisps of shadowy mist retracted into his fur, making him look, for all intents and purposes, like a very large, very dark stray.
Once they reached the top of the stairs, Rune decided to investigate his new pack members.
He was instantly attracted to Alexander. The priest smelled of holy magic and fear, a delicious combination. Alexander tried to look away, clutching his staff, but Rune had no respect for personal boundaries. His wet snout explored the priest's robes, sniffing deeply, before ending with a heavy, satisfied huff against Alexander’s thigh.
“Siurad... your dog is uncomfortably close,” Alexander squeaked, too terrified to shoo the beast away.
“I think he’s just trying to get to know everyone,” Siurad said with a shrug. “I’ve never had a dog before, so your guess is as good as mine.”
“Aw, look at him. Who’s a good little pupper-wuppers?” Yona cooed, reaching out to rub the wolf between the ears.
Rune froze. He looked at Yona with a stare that clearly communicated 'Touch me and you lose the hand' before returning to snuffling at Alexander’s pockets.
Yona’s hand hovered in the air. Her eye twitched.
“Ungrateful mutt,” she muttered. “You would still be in puppy jail if not for me.”
'…HE SAYS HE IS NOT A PUPPY,' Obi pulsed. '…HE IS A HARBINGER OF DARKNESS.'
“He can’t talk, can he?” Yona asked, bewildered.
“Wait, he talks?” Siurad asked, shocked.
'…WE CAN COMMUNE THROUGH THE VOID,' Obi explained. '…IT IS A PRIVATE CHANNEL.'
“Am I the only one who can’t hear the jewelry?” Alexander asked, gently nudging Rune’s head away from his crotch.
“Just try to pet him, Saint,” Siurad suggested.
Alexander hesitated, then reached out and scratched Rune behind the ear. Rune leaned into the touch, his tail thumping rhythmically against the priest’s leg.
Alexander, slightly surprised, looked over to Yona with a smug grin. “I see the wolf has excellent taste in character.”
“You have just made a massive mistake, mongrel,” Yona sneered at the priest.
“Okay, break it up,” Siurad said, stepping between them. “Where to, Steve?”
The massive skeleton in the tuxedo gestured down the hall with a creaking wave of his hand.
They followed Steve and Julia back up the stairs and down the corridor until they reached a wide, hollowed-out cavern. It appeared to be a common room for the Watch. Stone benches were placed sparsely throughout the space, and groups of cultists were sitting at tables or leaning against the walls, eating gruel and complaining about the heat.
Steve gestured around the room, the implication clear: Relax and hang out until the feast is prepared.
With a stiff, formal bow, Steve and Julia backed out of the room, their heavy footsteps receding down the hall.
The moment the skeletons left, the atmosphere changed.
A group of four cultists sitting at a nearby table stopped their conversation. They looked at the newcomers. Then, they looked at the black wolf standing by Siurad’s leg.
Rune stopped panting. His tail stopped wagging.
Slowly, deliberately, the wolf detached himself from Siurad’s side. He didn't run; he stalked. He moved toward the table with a liquid grace that made the shadows in the room seem to stretch toward him.
The dull grey in his eyes vanished, replaced by a violent Violet flare.
Alexander looked at the wolf. The carefree puppy attitude was gone. There stood an apex predator off the leash, and it seemed he had an axe to grind.
“Rune… buddy,” Siurad whispered, sensing the spike in aggression. “Come back over here, bud.”
'…NO,' Obi cut in, his mental voice cold and judicial. '…THEY THREW ROCKS AT HIM. THIS IS JUSTIFIED.'
“Wait, wait, we are guests of Vex! We can’t be fighting his subordinates!” Siurad pleaded under his breath.
'…THIS WILL NOT BE A FIGHT,' Obi replied. '...IT WILL BE A CORRECTION.'
The room grew instantly colder. The Void emanating from Rune expanded, a shadowy haze drifting across the floor like dry ice, curling around the ankles of the terrified cultists.
“Little Rune, please come back,” Alexander called out softly.
His words fell on deaf ears.
One of the cultists at the table,a scarred man with a half-eaten turkey leg in his hand,looked down. He recognized the black fur. He recognized the scar on the nose where he’d hit the beast with a stone three days ago.
“It’s Asset 9!” the man shouted, scrambling back and knocking over his chair. “The wolf got out! Grab a spear!”
His companion laughed nervously, reaching for a dagger. “Relax, Marv. Look at it. It's domesticated.”
The cultist took a step forward, brandishing the knife.
Rune stopped.
He simply... unspooled.
It didn't look like biology; it looked like an ink spill in water. The defined edges of the wolf silhouette blurred. The shadows clinging to his fur suddenly erupted outward, swallowing the light in the room.
Siurad watched in horror as the "Travel Size" wolf dissolved into a cloud of roiling darkness, and then, just as quickly, solidified into something else.
Kill Mode.
The creature that stepped out of the shadow was massive. Its shoulders brushed against the low-hanging soul lanterns. It was the size of a draft horse, but broader, denser. Its fur was no longer soft; it was a coat of jagged obsidian needles. Its tail retained its fluff but now emanated the same shadowy smoke.
But it was the jaws that froze the blood in everyone’s veins. As Rune opened his mouth, the jaws revealed a maw of violet fire and rows of teeth that looked capable of shearing through plate mail like wet paper.
The cultist with the knife dropped it. He didn't scream because his lungs had forgotten how to work.
Rune lunged.
It was too fast to track. One second, the monster was ten feet away; the next, he was on top of the table. Wood splintered and shattered under the massive paws.
The scarred cultist fell backward, scrabbling on the floor. Rune landed on top of him, pinning the man’s chest to the stone with a single massive paw.
The cultist stared up into the face of death. Rune lowered his massive head, the violet fire from his eyes blinding the man. Dark saliva dripped from the massive jaws, sizzling as it hit the cultist’s grey robes.
The room was dead silent. No one moved. No one breathed. Even Yona had taken a step back, her hand frozen on her dagger hilt.
“By the Light...” Alexander whispered, clutching the symbol of the Spire so hard his knuckles turned white. “He... he expanded.”
Rune opened his jaws wide enough to fit the man’s entire head inside, held the pose for three terrifying seconds, and let out a growl that echoed through the room.
DOOM.
The cultist fainted. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he went limp.
Rune sniffed the unconscious man. He sneezed, spraying void-snot over the man's face.
Then, the shadows swirled again. The massive form collapsed inward, condensing, shrinking, folding back into itself.
In the blink of an eye, the monster was gone.
Standing on the chest of the unconscious cultist was a German Shepherd-sized wolf.
Rune looked around the silent room, his eyes fading from violet back to a dull, innocent grey. He wagged his tail once, hopped off the cultist, and trotted back toward Siurad.
He sat down at Siurad’s feet, looked up expectantly, and let out a soft, happy woof.
Siurad stared at the wolf. He looked at the unconscious man. He looked at the terrified room.
“Okay,” Siurad squeaked. He cleared his throat, deepening his voice. “Okay. Good... good correction. Very efficient.”
'…ADEQUATE,' Obi judged.
Yona stared at the wolf, a look of pure, calculated greed entering her eyes.
“I want one,” she whispered.
“He is not a toy, Yona,” Alexander said, his voice trembling but filled with awe. “He is a divine judgment. A fluffy, terrible judgment.”
Rune looked at Alexander and tilted his head. He walked over and nudged the priest’s hand again.
Alexander flinched, then slowly, reverently, patted the wolf’s head.
“Good... Judgment,” Alexander whispered.
A heavy slam echoed from the entrance, followed immediately by the sound of shouting. A mob of fifteen cultists poured into the room, trailing behind a man named George.
George walked with steely resolve, his robes swishing aggressively. The other cultists, however, looked terrified. They tugged at his sleeves, whispering frantic warnings.
“Please, stop,” one pleaded.
“This will not end well, sir!” another shrieked, eyeing the massive wolf on the floor.
Siurad turned to look at the ruckus. He didn't reach for his sword immediately. Instead, his posture shifted. He widened his stance, crossed his arms, and dropped his chin. He instantly shifted from Adventurer to Bouncer.
“Oh, this isn't going to turn out good,” Siurad muttered. He sized George up. Irate patron. Refusing to accept closing time. Likely outcome: Ejection from premises. Violently.
George ignored the pleading of his peers. He didn't stop until he was two feet away from their table, looming over them.
“Hello there,” Yona said with a bright, fake grin.
“You are a liar,” George spat, staring daggers into Yona. “Your name is not Tricia. His name is not Tiny. And is this even a priest?” He gestured wildly at Alexander, his voice raising an octave with every word.
“I am indeed a priest of the Spire!” Alexander squeaked, clutching his pearls, genuinely offended.
“I have worked diligently as a member of Peronin's Watch for decades!” George yelled, his face turning beet red, spittle flying from his lips. “Only to be abruptly informed that my life's dedication has been a facade, thanks to a crew of vagabonds!”
“You are a member of a cult, George,” Yona said, staring at him deadpan. “It happens.”
“I’m sure we can figure this out,” Siurad interrupted, keeping his voice low and calm,the 'de-escalation' voice. “Look, we had no hand in the lie. Trust me, we feel bad about your circumstances, but we aren't the management.”
“I am supposed to believe you are a prophet of some kind?” George sneered.
“Prophet? No. Not at all. I'm just a normal man.” Siurad stood up slowly. He towered over the cultist. “Look, I don't have the answers you want. But I suggest you go back the way you came. Sleep it off.”
George didn't back down. The fanaticism in his eyes burned brighter than self-preservation.
“Do you think I fear you? I have seen the darkest corners this world has to offer. A muscle-bound man in black armor and his degenerate group strike no fear in my heart, little man. Furthermore, I don't know what sorcery you have used to enthrall our leader, but rest assured... I will not let it stand.”
The ring on Siurad’s finger grew cold.
'…INSOLENT BUG ' Obi pulsed, the vibration rattling Siurad’s bones. '…CORRECT HIM.'
Under the table, the "dog" stopped wagging its tail. Rune stood up. The dull grey of his eyes was instantly swallowed by a violet flare. Shadows began to leak from his fur like smoke.
Siurad moved his hand toward his hilt. Yona was already stepping forward, a knife appearing in her hand as if by magic.
Siurad sighed. It was a long, heavy exhale that conveyed exactly how much he didn't want to deal with this. He really didn't want to clean blood off the floor again. It was sticky, it smelled, and it stained the grout.
He decided to try the "Friendly Escort" maneuver one last time.
“George,” Siurad said, his voice dropping to a gravelly, authoritative baritone. He stepped into the cultist’s personal space,close enough to be uncomfortable, but not close enough to constitute an attack. He placed a heavy, gauntleted hand on George’s shoulder. “You’ve had a long night. You’re emotional. You’re making bad choices. Why don't we walk to the door, you get some fresh air, and we pretend this didn't happen?”
George didn't blink. He looked at the hand on his shoulder as if it were a venomous snake.
“Get your hands off me, false prophet,” George hissed.
With a speed that surprised everyone, George whipped a jagged ceremonial dagger from his robes and slashed upward.
Siurad leaned back, the blade missing his throat by an inch.
'… CORRECT HIM.'
The voice screamed in Siurad's mind, heavy and vibrating.
“That’s it,” Yona snapped. She lunged, her knife leading the way.
Rune roared,a sound befitting divine judgment,and launched himself from the floor, jaws wide, aimed directly at George’s throat.
George raised the dagger, a feeble attempt at a defensive maneuver against a monster of that size.
CRACK-BOOM.
The room erupted in blinding, necrotic green light. The force of the explosion knocked everyone near its epicenter backward. As the spots cleared from Siurad’s eyes, the twirling vortex in the center of the room faded to reveal three figures: Vex, Steve, and Julia.
“Now, whom do I have to thank for this?” Vex asked, smoothing his robes. He eyed George before sliding his gaze to Siurad.
Siurad raised his palms. "Wasn't us. He wouldn't take no for an answer.”
“Master Vex! I am trying to free you, they have you spellbound!” George pleaded, scrambling back from Rune. “The charm has changed you! I have served by your side for decades, please…”
“And that is the reason you still breathe, Lector George,” Vex said, his expression stern. “Today has been a most eventful day for you. You have much to process. Take a sabbatical. Return when you have cooled off and can think more clearly.”
George stammered, but Vex had already moved on. Turning his gaze to Siurad, the Lich continued, “Master Kivuli, please be sure to corral the Heir and his help. I cannot have them disrupting the flow of operations. We have much work to do.”
The help? Siurad thought.
His initial thoughts were confirmed by Yona’s bristling posture. “Where does he get off calling us the help?”
'… ENOUGH APOLOGIZE.'
Obi’s voice was reluctant, grinding against Siurad’s mental defenses.
“Wait, what? Me?” Siurad looked at his hand incredulously. “You want me to apologize? He just tried to feed me a dagger!”
'… VEX IS SENIOR STAFF.'
The ring pulsed, the vibration stinging Siurad’s knuckle.
'… YOU ARE TRAINING.'
“I am wearing you!” Siurad shouted at his own finger. “I am the Heir! I am the Lord of the—ow!”
The ring tightened painfully.
Vex watched this display with the pitying look one might give a toddler throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. He clasped his skeletal hands behind his back and floated down to floor level.
“Master Kivuli,” Vex sighed, sounding exhausted. “Please. The theatrics are unnecessary. I understand that adventurers...” he said the word like a slur, “...prefer a chaotic approach. But we are an organization now. We have standards. I am sure they just need to be… educated on the ways of the Authority.”
“Standards?” Yona stepped forward, spinning her dagger into a reverse grip. “Listen here, Glow-stick. I’m not ‘help.’ And the Heir is the only reason you are able to have this reunion.”
“And I am eternally grateful,” Vex said, bowing slightly. It was a mock bow. “However, gratitude does not equate to blind tolerance of incompetence. You allowed a Cultist to distress you. You allowed the Asset...” he gestured to Rune, “to engage in unauthorized mauling protocols inside the dining hall. It is messy. It is inefficient.”
Steve nodded in agreement. Click. He pointed a bony finger at Rune. Bad dog.
Rune growled low in his throat, violet smoke leaking from his nostrils.
“He was defending me!” Siurad argued, stepping between Steve and the wolf. “Because George was trying to kill me!”
“George was filing a grievance,” Vex corrected. “Aggressively. If you had handled the HR dispute properly, there would be no blood on the floor.”
Vex waved a hand. The bloodstains on the floor hissed and evaporated.
'… WE NO LONGER HAVE AN HR DEPARTMENT.'
The vibrations rattled Siurad's bones.
'… THAT IS NOW YONA’S JOB.'
“Now,” Vex continued, turning his back on them as if the conversation were over. “I have matters to attend to. The feast is almost ready and we can continue this conversation.”
Alexander squeaked from the corner. “I am a priest of the Spire!”
“Intern, then,” Vex corrected without looking back. “Steve, show the intern to the library. Maybe he can learn something useful, like how to silence his footsteps.”
Vex drifted toward the exit, Julia trailing behind him.
Siurad stood there, his mouth opening and closing. The sheer, unadulterated audacity was suffocating. He looked at the Ring.
“You’re okay with this?” Siurad hissed. “You’re the terrifying artifact of doom, and you’re okay with being middle-managed by a skeleton?”
The Ring pulsed with a slow, smug rhythm.
'… VEX IS JUST EXCITED.'
Obi vibrated.
'… VEX HAS A PLAN, YOU HAVE A DOG.'
“He’s a wolf,” Siurad muttered, defeated.
Steve stepped forward. He loomed over Siurad, casting a long shadow. He pointed a massive finger toward the hallway leading to the barracks.
Click-Clack.
“We’re going,” Siurad sighed, sheathing his sword. “But for the record, I hate this.”
Yona sheathed her dagger. “I’m stealing the silverware.”
The dining room was set up for a private feast. Siurad, Yona, and Alexander sat on one side of the stone slab table. Rune nuzzled near Alexander’s feet. Vex sat on the other side, accompanied by Julia and Steve.
An awkward silence hung in the room. Unsure of where to begin, Siurad started.
“So, Vex, I apologize about the… ahem… HR incident. I meant no disrespect; this is all still new to us. It's just shocking to find out this is all… real,” Siurad said. “I also want to apologize about Rune..Asset Number 9. I'm new to him too, so—”
Vex raised his skeletal hand.
“Please, Heir, an apology is unnecessary. You would have no way of knowing how things were back then.” Vex paused for a moment, staring off into the past. “We had discrepancies like that all the time, and they usually ended in death.”
Vex continued, “The General was… special. They built something so perfect, so pure, so bureaucratic.”
Siurad squinted his eyes. “Bureaucratic? So the Obsidian Authority wasn't some tyrannical evil empire?”
Vex laughed, a deep, hearty rumble. “Of course it was. The people of the Authority were under no illusion. People came because they wanted safety, and Xara provided that. Lysander engineered it. The Weaver, when he was around, made sure everyone's liberties were upheld. Aman would give his life for the intern or the mailman,” Vex said with a smile.
“So if it was all so great, what happened? Why does no one remember the great utopia from 3,500 years ago?” Yona asked.
Siurad shot her a look.
“Our citizens were the safest. They led great lives. No death, no war, no poverty, no disease. Lysander personally showed me the metrics year over year newborn mortality rates, ha!” He laughed. “Let's just say there was nothing like it. I won't sit here and blow bone marrow up your ass.”
Alexander shifted uncomfortably at the suggestion.
“Our people were great. Outsiders who didn't know what was good for them? Well, let's just say most of them didn't have a great time. They made great contributions to my bone collection… We will be bringing back the bone collection, right?”
Siurad gulped. “Umm, I will have to get back to you on that one.”
“No worries. I will have Steve draft a proposal for your approval.”
Steve looked at Siurad and gave a thumbs up. Clack.
“For you and your friends to rebuild the Authority, you must learn what it is. Why it was, and what we hope to accomplish.”
“ I have taken the liberty of making an agenda before we depart for Zuria: Training with Steve, training with me, followed by more training with Steve. Morning meditation and yoga with Julia, followed by more training with Steve.”
“ The wonderful thing is it's a rotating schedule, and one of you will be training with one of us around the clock. Just like the old days.”