Brothers-in-ArmsMature

That was not the same Marx Lancer I met today. There was something else occupying his body. The real Marx knows what he fights for, and how to control his power. But how much can I say about a man I’ve met in less than a day?

Even though I’ve known him for such a small amount of time, it feels like Marx and I have been friends forever. It was the camaraderie of brothers-in-arms that brought us so close, and it wasn’t something I thought I would find at the guild. I planned to isolate myself from the rest of them, not getting too close in case the day came where I would burst out of control.

But today, I have seen what it truly feels like to be out of control.

There was no remnant of Marx in his bloodthirsty eyes. And yet, there was a familiarity in the way his face contorted. I had seen that face somewhere: the robber who tried to kill my parents.

I shook out of the trance I was in as Grimlock picked Marx up off the ground. Whatever magic he just used, it completely drained him. He had already reached his limit; just how far was he willing to go?

“Grimlock,” I said, and he turned to me with a look of concern I had never seen on him before, “What are we going to do?”

“We’re retreating,” he sternly replied.

“What do you mean, retreating?” What was I even arguing about? Retreating was our best option, if even Marx can’t fight. “I’m sorry Grimlock. Does Master Juxon have a route plot—”

“Juxon is dead, Fallen. I’ve stepped up as guild master for the time being.”

No. No. The man who took me in when no one else would, gone. He no longer walks Ether; he will never open his eyes again.

“Fallen,” Grimlock called.

I snapped back into reality, thanks to his words. “Sorry. Just...tell me what to do.”

“Think you can fight your way to the tunnel?”

I looked at my open palm, and tried channeling the remnants of my magic through it. I have enough in the tank for a final push. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, come with me. And what did I tell you about calling me sir?”

“Right, sorry.”

Even carrying Marx, Grimlock was still surprisingly agile. He and I ignored any Nightwings we passed, making sure they couldn’t catch us. I needed to conserve as much magic as possible, and Grimlock had to keep Marx safe. Neither one of us could risk a fight right now.

After running through the ruined guild, we finally reached the guild hall. This place used to be filled with members, but only a fraction are assembled. Are the rest dead? It looked like there were only half of the entire guild here.

“Now! Open it!” Grimlock yelled as a man stood up and revealed a hatch in the far corner of the hall. The hatch appeared to have a magic lock, making it so only a Supernova can open it, I assume. Two more members opened each side of the door in unison.

“Everybody, through the door!” Grimlock ordered, and the guild began to flood through the hatch. It was amazing to see how much influence Grimlock can have over the guild. If anyone had to replace Juxon, it was him.

Nightwings began to bang on the guild hall’s doors. They probably saw Grimlock and I run inside.

“I’ll take the back,” I volunteered. “If they come in, I have enough magic to hold them off.”

“Actually, we’ll take care of it,” a man rested his hand on my shoulder. I turned to him, seeing a small platoon of elites behind me. “We haven’t had any action all day.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin your fun,” I laughed, and caught up to Grimlock, who was already climbing into the hatch.

The End

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