Chapter Text
The sun was finally beginning to set, dousing the land in shades ranging from ruddy reds to gentle yellows. Against the steep canyons, it should have been a beautiful sight, inspiring the awe of nature and life itself. Alas, the world–or perhaps humans–are not that kind and peaceful. Bodies littered the earth, staining it with deep maroon that would later dry into a garish brown.
Amidst the carnage were four figures–three drunk off of victory. Their raucous laughter and boastful words echoed through the valleys, completely ignoring their fourth ‘teammate’ (if it were even apt to call her that).
Uriel’s vision was blurred with tears that dampened the packed dirt, and her arms were trembling from the exertion of keeping her body from collapsing to the ground. Grime was packed under her nails from digging them into the hard-packed earth.
“Come on, Aegis. Stop being dramatic,” one of the men said, nudging her side with his foot. The woman’s arms gave out, sending her weakened form into a heap on the ground. One of the other ‘heroes’ scoffed, muttering something under her breath about Uriel that the winged woman almost certainly didn’t process.
With her vision obscured, the sunset looked like the flame that her tribe used to gather around. Those memories were the only thing that kept her fragile mind intact.
Thwack!
This time, instead of a nudge, a kick was swiftly delivered to Uriel’s ribs, sending her sprawling onto her back. “Stop lying around like a useless lump and get up!” the woman demanded, rolling her eyes when all she got in response was a groan of pain. “I swear… you don’t even actually get injured. It’s all in your head.”
If only it were that simple. The lingering pains from the battle were vivid to the point that if she reached a hand to her neck, she would be surprised to find her head attached and not a burnt stump. She’d experienced death hundreds of times over, only to be berated by those whose lives she’d saved.
Useless. Weakling. Failure. More often than not, those words had been flung at her, breaking her down until a shell was left. Her only reason to live was to protect her tribe’s descendants, but to do so, she had to sacrifice her body and mind for the sake of ‘justice’.
Uriel’s third teammate looked away, pretending to observe the corpses of the dead villains they’d dispatched. Of all three, he was the only one who felt guilt, though he never spoke up. He wasn’t the team’s sacrificial lamb, after all. There was no reason for him to rock the boat and potentially receive ire from the others.
As he stared into the distance, a dark blot appeared on the horizon, slowly but surely approaching.
The Smiling Man had known from the start that a band of scavengers would be poor followers, but as he surveyed the corpses and the three heroes before him, his opinions of them shifted lower. All of the scavengers had died from different sorts of wounds, the inconsistency from the clan members in bringing death a clear sign of weakness.
None of the heroes were dead or even injured. The (former) leader of the scavengers had at least gone out in a blaze of glory, but the only mark he left was scorches upon the canyon walls. While Engen was happy to be rid of such dead weight, that didn't change the fact that the heroes before him bore not so much as a scratch.
No, that wasn't true. Upon further inspection of the heroes, Engen noticed a fourth person amongst them. The fourth hero was collapsed on her back, white wings smudged with the dirt of the canyon floor. Engen had broken enough men and women with his gift to identify when someone was in agony, and the girl clearly was. He suspected she was the key, and how exactly these puzzle pieces fit together would make itself apparent momentarily, as the hero on guard finally reacted to his approach.
Aaron could now make out the man’s features. Pale brown hair, piercing grey eyes, and a scar spanning across his features from his ear to the corner of his mouth–a cruel reminder reminiscent of a smile. Only one villain had such traits. It was Engen, the Smiling Man.
“We have to get out of here now!” Aaron cried, feeling panic well up in his stomach. This was a foe far beyond their capabilities, a legend spoken only in hushed whispers and cautionary tales. “It’s Engen!”
Enforcer’s head snapped toward the incoming threat, grabbing the necklace around his neck. His skin hardened and took on a metallic sheen as it morphed into steel. Winter bristled and snatched Uriel from the ground, her lips drawn into a snarl.
“Activate your gift. Now,” she growled, just barely resisting the urge to shake the dark-haired woman like a ragdoll. “Do it or we’ll all die.”
The command barely registered, but the sound of Winter’s angry voice and the word that sounded vaguely like ‘gift’ was enough for her. That was all they used her for anyway. Ignoring the ghost pains of blistered, peeling skin and missing body parts, she muttered, ‘Soul Sacrifice.”
A faint ring of light circled the area, spanning a radius of about one hundred meters. Three intangible chains of light extended from the left side of her chest, connecting to her teammates before fading from view.
It was time for battle.
Engen smiled at the fear his presence induced in the boy before him, someone who clearly knew just who he was, and what he did to heroes like them.
The physical was the lowest priority. No matter what he composed himself of, Sanjiva would pierce him apart the same, but that would come in due time.
The more interesting subject was the winged girl. The callous way that the other girl had treated her and the clear lack of lucidity on her part told Engen she was someone the clan saw as a tool first and foremost.
Unfortunately for the heroes and their tool, the aftermath of the battle and what little she had demonstrated already gave away how to pick apart this team.
The ring of light, combined with the ephemeral chains that had burst from her chest, told Engen that her gift seemed to bind her to them, but only within a certain radius, as the light she had emitted hinted to him. Some form of protection, dealt with easily enough.
His first step would be to separate her from the rest of the group. He would use 'The Lady of Pain' to throw her outside the initial light circle perimeter. With her obviously poor mental condition, she would almost certainly be unable to provide further aid to the heroes, at least through action. Once she was disconnected from the other heroes, Engen would tear them apart and deal with her at his leisure.
"The clan won't be able to tell your remains from the garbage you already disposed of." Engen tilted his head to the side, lips curling slightly upward as he conjured the 'Lady of Pain' alongside his sword, and began to attack.
Winter dropped Uriel to the ground, enraged by the Smiling Man’s taunts. Despite her icy gift, she had a fiery temper. “Shut up and die, you bastard,” she snapped, waving her hand and conjuring icicles that sped toward the shadowy man. At the same time, Enforcer charged in recklessly, confident and reckless in his knowledge that Uriel’s gift would shield him.
Engen's smirk grew as they charged at him. He gestured with his sword, the 'Lady of Pain' slamming her right hand down onto the metalform as a newly conjured wall of shade blocked the incoming missiles. The man under her palm struggled where he should be flattened, but didn't seem to have the strength to get out from under her hand for the moment. Engen smiled at the last hero, the one so very afraid of him. He was the only one in a position to help their little angel, for now.
A crushing weight made Uriel balk. Thankfully, the pain from the previous fight was beginning to wear off, making this more bearable. Still, she was in no condition to fight. A gift required focus, but with a mind clouded by phantom wounds, she could do very little to assist in actual combat. Perhaps if the Hero Clan had developed her skills instead of relegating her to support, things would have been different.
At the same time, Aaron’s eyes flitted around like those of a cornered animal. Cold sweat ran down the back of his neck. With Enforcer restrained, only he and Winter could fight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he watched her throw waves of ice toward Engen, only for them to get brushed off. Deep down, he knew that this battle was far out of his league, so the coward did what any would do: run.
Engen's lips parted, his smile now all teeth as the boy ran. While maintaining the wall between him and the ice woman, he slashed with his sword, commanding the 'Lady of Pain' to grab the winged girl and throw her behind him, the bonds of her gift breaking as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon. "Fitting your angel disappears when you're confronted with hell."
A strangled yelp left Uriel’s lips when she suddenly felt her body go weightless. With her body suddenly being flung away from the battle, her allies were suddenly out of the effective range of her gift. The chains of light shattered, breaking the connection, suddenly leaving every single one of them vulnerable.
Right before she hit the ground, she managed a flap of her wings, reducing the impact just enough, although it still hurt. As she staggered shakily back to her feet, she wondered why her life hadn’t been snuffed out; it’d quite literally been in the hands of his construct.
The struggling beneath the right hand of the 'Lady of Pain' redoubled, though as Engen pushed down with it, the struggling stopped when the creak of metal turned into the breaking of bones. He set his gaze upon the last one left, drinking in the look on her face.
“Dammit, you’re all so useless,” Winter huffed, unable to drop her ego even in the face of death. The blonde woman took a step back, suddenly feeling as if she were a bug about to be squished underneath an uncaring shoe. “I’m not meant to die here.” With a swipe of her hand, the projectiles turned into a fog–a final resort. Since the battlefield now lacked visibility, Winter took a page out of Aaron’s book, trying to escape with her life.
Engen considered the woman fleeing for her life. Did she truly believe that such a simple tactic would actually work? With a wave of her hand, the 'Lady of Pain' cleared the fog enough for Engen's night vision to make out the running woman through the twilight. Another hero who failed to consider that Engen just might see easier in the darkness than he did in the light.
He pointed his sword at the woman, a wave of Kalasutra rushing forward and piercing a dozen fist-sized holes throughout her body. If she were on the hardier end, she might be able to live through such an injury. The 'Lady of Pain' pulled herself forward, crushing her with the same hand that had done so to her partner. With that, he dispelled his gift, turning around and heading towards where he had thrown the winged girl, putting his hands back in his pockets for the moment. If she had survived her landing, she may be able to provide Engen with something of value.
Uriel's bloodshot eyes went wide when she saw Winter skewered beyond recognition. Enforcer’s body was mangled as well. How could someone be so powerful? Despite the dire situation, she found herself slightly envious. With power like that, she could’ve protected her tribe without needing to give her life to the Hero Clan.
Speaking of lives… a shudder ran through her spine when Engen, as she’d heard Aaron call him, started to approach. Was he going to finish her off, too? What would happen to her people if she were killed in action? Would they be kicked from the only land they knew? They were no longer nomadic, so the changes could end them. The thought of those she cared for for generations being left vulnerable was terrifying.
Mustering what little strength she had left, Uriel activated the shield that the townspeople had given her. When activated, the metal felt impossibly heavy from the fatigue of her gift, practically taking all of her strength to hold up.
Engen let out a single, mocking laugh at the sight in front of him. Engen could tell she was barely able to hold herself up. Engen slowly closed the distance while scrutinizing her, trying to parse out what exactly it was that made her stand here. It couldn't just be the desire to do good; she wasn't spouting any righteous nonsense in the face of oblivion.
He stood right in front of her, basking in the fear in her eyes. She wasn't hiding some trick or deciding her pride would be better served dying on her feet. No, she stood because she was terrified of dying. A similar flavor of terror had sent that boy running off into the night, but that didn't quite fit what he saw in her. The boy had been terrified for himself, but she was terrified for something else.
He lay his fingers on the top of her shield, with his thumb resting on the face of the shield. As he did so, he covered the very tips of his fingers where they lay upon the metal. Looking down at her, he began to ask, "Why-" he pushed with his thumb and pulled with his fingers, bending the shield towards his body "-are you here?"
The ease with which Engen moved her shield made Uriel wince. He could have easily killed her a hundred times over in that instance, but here he was, asking a question so casually. Had the pride not been beaten out of her years ago, it would have bruised her ego.
“Does it even matter to you?” she croaked, voice hoarse from the day’s ordeal. “What satisfaction would knowing give you?”
"I need to know how much attention I've drawn." Engen’s grip on the shield tightened, leaving indentations on the metal where his fingers were. "Do not make me repeat myself, girl."
The groan of metal being squeezed like putty was certainly a good motivator. “The clan sent us to take out the band of scavengers,” she replied, mind racing. Was there a single course of action that wouldn’t lead to death? “There was no mention of you.”
"Was there no mention, or no mention to you?" She wasn't a believer, far from it. She could be far too useful a tool to be disposed of here. "The boy who ran seemed to know me well enough. Do you think they sent you all here to die? You wouldn't be the first loose end I ended up tying for the clan."
A mirthless laugh left Uriel’s lips. “My job is to make sure heroes don’t die. The Clan has rather frequently told me that. I’d have been transferred to another unit if they intended for us to die.” She was their precious shield, after all, broken and compliant. Even now, she was contemplating whether she could expend the rest her EST in an attempt to take both of them out—anything to allow her people to live in peace.
Engen laughed at the girl's words. She really believed the clan wouldn't just have her killed. "You are far from the first useful piece of the clan to be disposed of. The clan won't want a savior who failed."
Uriel was no stranger to the Clan’s ruthless workings, so Engen’s words rang true. A hero would die, then be replaced in the blink of an eye, erased from the public’s short memory. Anxiety bubbled in her gut. She’d been useful, right? That’s why they’d kept her tribe under their protection for all these years. At the same time, though, they allowed every squad she’d join to treat her like the dirt under their shoes.
So what would happen to her people? That was all that mattered–the only thing that kept her going. She became so lost in her spiral of thoughts that she didn’t say a word.
"No denial that the clan will dispose of you then, girl." Engen leaned back slightly, looking down at her with a smirk. He grasped her jaw with his unoccupied hand and forced her gaze to meet his. "I would be happy to take you as a tool. You wouldn't be the first abandoned clan partner I took in."
The golden-eyed woman took a long moment to contemplate her options. If she tried to fight here, then she’d die not knowing the fate of her people. If she joined him, she could at least warn them of what was possibly to come. It was an easy choice.
“I’ll become your tool,” Uriel vowed, eyes filling with a new kind of determination that she’d long lost. “But first, can I at least visit my tribe?”
'The people she had belonged to were what had caused her desperation,' Engen noted. A weakness he would keep in mind. The clan seemed to have already burnt any goodwill she might have had to them, but she had failed to prove her stomach for bloodshed. Engen would prefer being the lesser of two evils, but he had never had any issue with taking hostages when the need arose.
"Very well," Engen said, letting go of her and taking a step back. He turned on his heel and began to walk away, giving her a chance to try to drive any hidden knife she may have into his back. She was more likely than not trustworthy, at least he trusted his assessment of her, but better to test for betrayal here than be surprised by it later.
It was that simple? The ease with which Engen had turned his back toward her was startling. Still, she’d been raised to be good to those who did good for her. “Where should I meet with you later?” she called out, already beginning to flap the large, avian wings attached to her back. It was taking all of her self-control not to just zip away to see them.
Engen looked up at the airborne girl appraisingly. He had assumed her wings were for show with how useful the non-physical aspect of her gift seemed to be. He had misjudged the girl in front of him. While she herself was barely more threatening than a normie by her lonesome, he had improperly judged her incapable of flight. That she could have attempted to fly away in the fight but hadn’t made it confirmed to him this woman was the selfless sort. He briefly questioned whether it would be worth adding another bleeding heart to the Nameless, but decided it would be. He couldn't afford to be too picky for now.
Conjuring darkness under his feet and lifting it up, he joined her in the skies. "I will be joining you on your trip. Private correspondence is a privilege you will earn once you prove yourself.”
Uriel’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, but she just nodded, feeling as if any further questions would result in her being turned into a pincushion like Winter had been. “Alright,” she murmured, already taking in the position of the moon to figure out where true east was. Once she’d gotten her wits and directions about her, she flew off toward the plot of land where her people lived.
The cool night air whipped at her dark curls and ruffled her feathers, but the sensation of flying with no limits was unmatched. Plus, she’d get to go home for the first time in months. All the missions she’d been deployed on made it nigh impossible to do anything.
By the time she landed, the moon was high in the sky. Immediately, Uriel’s nose picked up the unmistakable scent of gunpowder and death. She broke into a sprint, tearing through foliage, only to freeze when she saw the village–well, what was left of it.
Buildings were reduced to piles of charred wood. Bullet holes littered any wall that could even be considered erect. But worst of all were the decaying bodies that littered the ground, picked at by vultures and bugs alike.
Before she even knew what she was doing, Uriel was tearing at piles of rubble, uncaring if the splinters dug into her flesh, turning her hazelnut skin bloody and raw. Her gift activated, forming a circle of light around the area, but no shimmering chains emerged from her chest. There was no one alive. Not a single soul.
Pained wails ripped from her throat until her voice was no more than a ragged wheeze, but even then, she continued to cry. EST poured out of her, crackling in the air like lightning, but it was all for naught. As she cried into the rubble, she saw a small, burnt arm with a metal bracelet around the wrist. She remembered how years ago, that tiny hand held hers while she’d helped him learn to walk. Her stomach turned so violently that she had to turn away. This couldn’t be real.
Engen kept his position above her, the final piece of this puzzle falling into place. The clan lost their leverage over the girl, and sent her and the heroes that held her leash to die to him. Unfortunately for the clan, he wasn't as quick to throw away such a useful tool, especially when she was now in such a vulnerable state of mind.
Engen slowly descended into the village, landing next to one of the corpses and studying the scene with a careful eye. The attack couldn't have happened more than two days ago, and the excessive amount of firepower involved hinted at an insult to either a very important person, or someone whose gift involved modern weaponry. The lack of spent bullet casings on the ground told him which of the two it was more likely to be. Engen was content to watch the girl from afar. Once the disbelief turned to rage, she would come to him, one way or the other.
Uriel forced herself to dig through all the wreckage, pulling out her deceased loved ones. Some were missing limbs, others were scorched beyond recognition, and others… others were too ghastly to describe.
Through tears, she laid the bodies in the middle of the village where their nightly festivities were held. A choked prayer to Velarus was muttered into clasped hands before she started a small fire and let the blaze consume them. As the last living member of the tribe, it was her duty.
Bloodshot eyes stared blankly at the flames. She had no one left.
Sadness festered into something ugly–something Uriel had never felt: rage. It twisted and thrashed in her chest, eating away at the soft lessons of kindness that’d been instilled in her from a young age.
She turned to look up at Engen, dull, yellow eyes hiding her cold rage. “Do what you’d like with my life,” she said lowly, her ragged voice barely a whisper in the silence of the night. “It’s yours so long as you tear the Clan down brick by brick.”
Engen gave her the most dreadful smile he had. “That was already the plan.”
