Deep Sea Embers

“Remnants of the Black Sun?” He mutters, astonished and outraged by the intruder, “You dare to step into this sacred ground?!”

Without a second of delay, a loud bang shattered the tranquility within this domed structure. It’s the old priest drawing his large caliber revolver and firing off the blessed bullet from within. Unfortunately, this came as no surprise to the umbrella man. In exactly the same moment, two shadowy tentacles had whipped out from underneath the trench coat – the first deflecting the bullet, the second lashing out to smash into the old priest’s shoulder and sending the guy flying across and into the nearest bookshelves.

Seemingly pleased with his deed, the dark, gloomy umbrella man proudly stomped towards the mound of books that had dumped over the priest from the impact. But that was a mistake. In the following second, a deafening roar of a battle cry blew up from beneath the pile as the old priest jumped out – he had drawn his vibrating sword at some point and used this opening to slash down at the invader.

The intruder didn’t fret though. Instead of jumping aside to dodge, the person only tilted that black umbrella slightly and met the blade head-on. This caused a series of screeching sparks to fly between the two weapons of choice as they clashed together from the force.

But a veteran of light wasn’t one to be fended off so easily within his own realm. The old priest expected his assault to fail, so he promptly flexed his arm and swung sideways in his follow-up attack. He kept going and going, leaving arcs of silvery grey in the air as he continuously slashed at the foe like the battering waves of the ocean.

That’s how storm priests fight, wave after wave, slash after slash, without giving up a second of momentum they’ve built to increase their blade’s strength.

Unfortunately, the black umbrella in the intruder’s hand was more durable than it seemed. Aside from being pushed back due to the sheer physical force of the exchange, the umbrella suffered no damage at all. Even so, the mere fact that he’s been forced into a corner enraged the shadow.

Issuing a long gurgling growl of incoherent murmurs, this heir of the Black Sun was obviously mustering a counter-offensive with whatever spell he’s conjuring.

But this didn’t matter to the old priest though because he had already closed off any unnecessary perceptions within his sight. He didn’t care about the noise emitted by this intruder, nor did he care about his own safety for that matter. As the only defender of light here in the realm of the Storm Goddess, he had the duty to defeat this blasphemous entity to regain his honor for today’s failure.

Nevertheless, the old archivist couldn’t deny the swirling doubts sprouting from within his heart at the moment. For example, how did something like this thing infiltrate the grounds of the main church? This was the epicenter of Gomona’s influence within Pland. Even if the goddess herself didn’t detect it, the patrolling clergies outside should have. On top of that, countless protective wards are also in place to signal the alarm. The fact that it all failed pointed to a fundamental weakness in their defenses, a flaw that would be fatal if left unchecked.

Can it be… this remnant didn’t enter the church through normal means?

Exactly then, a sharp whistling sound broke through the air. Before the old priest could react, his lower thigh muscle had tensed up out of reflex due to years of experience in the field. He slightly adjusted the angle of his vibrating sword and readied it for the assailant’s sneak attack.

But then severe pain came from under his ribs, a spot he least expected because he had readied his posture for that area.

He stopped his pose, glanced down, and saw a black squirming tentacle poking through the front of his stomach from the back. He wanted to touch the wound to confirm its true, but even that little maneuver was deprived from him as the rusted gears inside the prosthetic limbs grinded to a crawl from overheating.

Finally, things dawned on the poor veteran – he’s gotten too old

He and these gears on him are too old…

With a disgusting squishy sound, the ugly tentacles retracted back into the intruder’s trench coat as he approached. Now, all that remained supporting the old defender was the longsword that could barely remain upright due to those shaky arms.

“Go tell your God~ That this disgusting era is over and that the sun will rise again from history…” The barely recognizable flesh that was the face of the shadow finally spoke.

“History…” the old priest’s body shuddered at the word. His physical body may have failed, but his brain’s not broken yet, “You polluted history?!”

Somehow, despite the warped, twisted face, the intruder still managed to show a devilish grin with those crooked teethes: “On the day when the fire rose, the wishes of us all were granted.”

The remark didn’t reach the old priest’s ears at this point though. The wound had been lethal, and it had caused the poor fella to begin his departure into the afterlife. His time was near…

This outcome bored the intruder due to losing his only audience. Then, as he’s about to re-hold his black umbrella and leave, something unexpected occurs with his back turned. A loud roaring grind of metallic friction had suddenly ramped up, followed by the pressuring noise of oil pumping and steam whistling. Swinging his head around to check, the intruder was taken aback by the blistering sword coming down over his head!

“Goddess, please bear witness!” The old priest yelled with a look of absolute devotion.

His entire body felt so weak right now, but his soul burned with the ferocity that no evil could tarnish. He’s the sword and shield of mortals. When the darkest moment befalls his realm, it’s his duty to shine at his brightest, right up to the last second of his life. No matter the cost, no matter the price, he will pay it!

Due to the abrupt nature of this turnaround, the old priest finally landed a critical blow to the shadow, slicing him from the head down and into two. This should be lethal to any ordinary foe, but this was a sun heir, the vilest and most evil of those out there. The severed halves suddenly emitted a disgusting sound of flesh and blood squirming together. Afterward, tiny tentacles shot out from the wound and merged the body back together like he was never harmed.

This dashed the last glimmer of hope in the poor defender’s eye. That’s his last struggle, the last glorious fight for the light, but he could do no more. The goddess did not abandon him and blessed him with strength for the last blow there, the proof of another miracle. But even so, it frustrated him to no end knowing he couldn’t fell this abomination.

After several seconds later, the intruder was now up again and ready to exact revenge for the insolent struggle. Extending the tentacles out, the umbrella man barred his teeth and was ready to rip apart the opponent for good. He didn’t like surprises, least of all from a storm clergy.

……

Unbeknownst to the assailant though, something else was occurring beyond the boundaries of the archive. In this twisted and warped reality, clusters of green flames had engulfed much of the crumbling ruins of Pland, seeping into every facet of the city. Now, the only parts left untainted were none other than the church grounds, and even that wouldn’t be true for much longer.

That’s the sort of picture the old priest saw in his final moment before moving onto the afterlife – the green flame driving up from behind the unaware assailant. How should he describe it? It was like a hound finding its prey, and its head was now baring its fang at the perfect moment to strike.

This confused the old priest dearly of course. He didn’t know if this was real or just a hallucination on his part, but if it was real, he could only applaud with satisfaction. The umbrella intruder thought he had won today, but no… the serpent-like green flame had silently bit down with such a force that it trapped the twisted man in it like a cage – a burning hell as he melted away. If the old priest could still hear his surroundings, he would be covering them from the horrific screams of panic and terror due to this execution.

And then, everything went quiet again….

The sea of fire faded like it never came, the polluted history temporarily returned to the depths of the curtain, and the archive, located between the crossroads of two different histories, fell into a dead silence. No one visited, and no one knew. Whatever happened today, it’s gone forever…