Crumbling to Dust

Their arm fell. One lucky blow finally did it. Crait’s Lore brought their staff down and instead of stopping it, the metal plating that held Lore’s shoulder to their body gave up. Jagged spikes protruded from their now sleeveless uniform. As with last time, it didn’t hurt but it was an interesting sensation. Their arm chipped the concrete as it settled into its fallen position. Lore looked to Lore. The battle continued. Lore wasn’t at as big of a handicap as Crait’s Lore had hoped. Ambidexterity suited them but it was quickly taking the wind from their sails. What had once been powerful attacks, now barely connected. It was unsustainable. Lore attempted to pause time, reaching out with their missing limb but they couldn’t. Something else did happen though; from their shoulder, a tendril of light emerged. It didn’t last long and was nearly unnoticed, but while it was there, Lore felt a connection. Switching to assume a more defensive posture, they had time to consider their next steps. That’s when they remembered Varkral’s teachings. His arm, although still connected to his body, could be controlled by his magic, the same could be true here. They tried again. Like a sprout from the dirt, out of the spikes of metal they called their shoulder, a tendril once again grew. It writhed and wormed from their collar and down towards their staff. The vinelike limb connected and secured itself. It wasn’t quite what they were used to but it felt natural. The vine swelled as Lore demanded more of it until it more closely resembled their twice missing limb. It lacked distinct fingers but for the time being, that was the least of anyone’s worries. Crait’s Lore could see the tide turning and coming for their feet. Not wanting to get wet, they absconded, dashing for higher ground. Without thinking, Lore whipped their arm towards them. The white light extended and continued to travel far further than Lore had envisioned. The tendril thinned as it stretched and by the time it had reached Crait’s Lore, it was barely a centimetre thick. Using the last of its range, Lore tripped them and began to pull.
“No you don’t.” Lore shouted after themselves. Crait’s Lore’s ankles getting progressively closer.
They were now back to close quarters fighting. After escaping their bounds, Crait’s Lore had adjusted their arm. Whatever they had done caused the plating on the crest of their shoulder to glow a faint reddish pink and increased the speeds of their attacks tenfold. With their arm of pure energy, they had been able to match them but now, now, they were falling behind again. Back to defending, they returned also to the drawing board. Thinking on their feet, they created a list of things they could use in a situation like the one they found themselves in. Top of that list was a shield. Then they re-remembered. Dropping their staff with their right tendril, they focussed on that thought. The bulk of their arm flexed as it moved towards where their hand would be. The large sphere of coalesced energy flattened and a shield was born. Then idea number two struck. Lore was bashing them with their shield when it came to them. Crait’s Lore soon got the same idea as a shard of time impaled them. Lore had made one slight change to their shield. Spikes. Time energy, hardened to glass, now protruded from Crait’s Lore’s chest. The wound began to bleed but as the murder weapon melted, it stopped. The blade appeared to dissolve into the cavity.
“Honestly…” Their voice was dry and raspy. “Didn’t think you’d do that.” Their intense exercise had taken its toll, but the knife in the chest may also have effected them. “Now what?”
Lore knelt to their side and placed their fingers on their neck. Their pulse was their but it was fading. As the last of the blade melted, so did the last of their pulse. “You die.” Lore said bluntly. “I didn’t mean to.” They felt that was what needed to be said, after all, it was the truth. Crait’s Lore shook their head.
“But you needed to. Only one of us was going to survive this. The best one evidently did.” They nodded, their life over. Their story complete.
The buildings above ground had been impressive but the structures underneath were something else indeed. As they travelled ever downwards, they began to question the building teams logic then sanity. It had been a short spell since their departure from Lore and only one of them knew what had happened. They pressed ever onwards. The room they finally arrived in seemed too large for its purpose. A grandiose display for a meagre creation, like a child’s ‘art’ being displayed atop The Mona Lisa.
“Bloody hell. They could have saved so much time with those stairs if they didn’t want such a high ceiling.” Charrlene pointed upwards. Indeed most of their journey had been stairs and most of those stairs were only there because of the aforementioned high ceiling.
“Let’s do the job then get out.” Crait swung the bag off of their shoulder. All present removed a small device from it before moving to their designated spots. They had hoped it wouldn’t take long but given the distance between the entrance and the nearest wall, that hope was shattered.
“Ready.” Piper was the first to his position.
“Ready.” Char wasn’t far behind.
Charlene elected to simply nod.
“Alright then, let’s get gone.” Crait set their charge and ran. They had positioned themselves the furthest away from the exit. With the other team’s distraction plan emptying the complex, their escape was simplicity itself. There was a slight kink in the plan when half way to the exit and a third of the way through their time, they realised Piper was missing but Char insisted they pressed on. The overcast light of Sheffield’s sky was a surprisingly welcoming sight. Lore was waiting for them with their arm in their hand and Piper by their side.
“There was a lift.” Piper smiled. Crait was going to retort but was still recovering from the hike.
“We better get out of dodge. This whole area’ll be underground in a mo.” Lore gestured towards the way they entered. Crait held up their Breacher and got everyone linked up. They were about to push the button when a white light engulfed them.
“That’s one way of doing it I suppose.” A familiar voice spoke from the darkness. “A problem gone is a problem solved.” Lore could have sworn they heard the voice mutter ‘let there be light’ but as they finished, the room illuminated. They were somewhere on Earth judging by the architecture. A slow clap drew their attention to their saviour. Time stood, slowly clapping and shaking its head. Visions of Hope.