— CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE —

  Winter

  \Davi/

  December 20th.

  I stared at the untouched plate of sausages and eggs, watching as a thin film of grease congealed along the edges. Outside the bar's frost-laced windows, snow fell in thick, lazy clumps.

  I didn't feel much like eating. I didn't need it - I was entirely focused on what lay ahead. Today was the day - my first assignment. My first chance to hunt down that man. Razorto. Somewhere out there he was robbing and killing more innocent people.

  The fork felt heavy between my fingers as I pushed the food around, the scrape of metal against ceramic lost in the background noise of Bedlam's morning crowd.

  A gust of cold air cut through the warmth as the door slammed open. The blast of winter air that followed was as sudden as a slap.

  Rho was stood in the doorway, face flushed. "Everyone listen up! Get your equipment and get ready to ship out - It's all hands on deck!"

  "What's the fire?" one of the guys asked.

  "The Fringe launched a terror attack on Stonehearth City. The peacekeeping force needs help regaining control." Rho said. "The trains are too hot to take, so we're riding out on horseback immediately. Ten minutes, people. Move!"

  The bar exploded into motion. Chairs scraped, tables were abandoned, and the veterans whooped as they grabbed their gear. There was an almost festive energy to their movements - this was what Bedlam lived for. Hunting Fringe. Being heroes.

  I stood, leaving my breakfast untouched. This wasn't Razorto, but it was Fringe. It was a start.

  Within minutes, I was in the back of a wagon alongside Rho and a crew of others. The convoy of vehicles stretched ahead and behind us, loaded with grim-faced fighters.

  "This is a big one." one of the men sharing our wagon said - a heavyset man with a thick beard who carried a massive war hammer across his knees. "Fringe doesn't usually go near the big cities."

  "They're getting bolder." a woman replied. "Guard's been too soft on them."

  As we left Celestia Grand on the west highway, the snow gradually thinned, then disappeared entirely. Suddenly, we were traveling under clear blue skies through the green, rolling hills of the Stonehearth Plains. The plains then gave way to the patchwork of farmlands that surrounded Stonehearth City. Fields of golden wheat and vibrant vegetables stretched to the horizon, broken by occasional clusters of farm buildings and small hamlets. It should have been picturesque, but an underlying wrongness permeated the scene.

  It wasn't long before we came across the trail of refugees fleeing the area - scared people making their way to Celestia Grand on foot - exhausted, frightened, some injured. A few looked up as our convoy rumbled past, their expressions shifting from fear to hope when they spotted the Bedlam nameplates.

  "The Fringe hunters are here!" someone shouted.

  "Thank god." called another.

  Further down the highway, we encountered the first World Guard patrols maintaining checkpoints to direct the flow of refugees. They waved as our convoy passed, a few cheering or saluting.

  "Give 'em hell, guys!"

  As we crested a final hill, Stonehearth City came into view, and the wagon fell silent.

  The sky above the city had been stained a dark, blood-red. Meteors rained down, trailing flames as they disappeared into the thick black smoke that billowed up from every district. Occasional plumes of fire erupted above the city walls, followed by distant booms that reached us seconds later.

  The black tower that normally dominated the city's skyline - the Meteor Spire - was completely obscured by smoke. The entire city looked like it was being devoured from within.

  "Holy shit." breathed the bearded fighter. "What in blazes did they do?"

  It wasn't a terror attack. It was... complete destruction on a scale I hadn't thought possible in Dawnfall. They were razing an entire city to the ground.

  "Read about it in the paper tomorrow." Rho said sharply. "Stay on task. We have a job to do."

  As we approached the city gates, our convoy turned off the main highway, taking a side road that led to a small cluster of buildings nestled among the farmlands. The hamlet had been transformed into a makeshift command post with World Guard and Bedlam personnel moving between tents and hastily erected barricades.

  Our wagon rolled to a stop, and Rho was on his feet immediately. "Everyone out!" he ordered. "Get ready for combat and gather on the north side - we'll sort you into squads there."

  I hopped down from the wagon, arranging my weapons in my belt pouches. I was still a designated marksman, but this time I had brought an extra carbine better suited to close quarters, though, looking at the open hills of the farmlands, I wasn't sure I would need it. Better more prepared than less. I also still had Jax's sword. Around me, other Bedlam members were performing similar checks, the earlier excitement replaced by professional focus.

  "Sergeant!" The voice cut through the general clamor like a knife.

  Colonel approached our group. He was now wearing a suit of knightly armor that gleamed in the bloody sunlight, making him look like a warrior in his prime - broad-shouldered, powerful, and intimidating.

  "Sir!" Rho snapped to attention.

  Colonel said, "We have Fringe infesting the fields, robbing civilians as they flee the city. Expect to find them hiding in every nook available, waiting for us to pass by so they can target refugees. Anyone you come across is to be escorted toward the main highway east of the city - the World Guard has a better presence on this side. Take your sections and patrol the distant farms north of the city - outside the first circle of surrounding highways. Don't go into the forests of the foothills - they haven't been secured yet, and we won't have the manpower for it until later this afternoon."

  "Yes, sir!" Rho responded crisply.

  As Colonel moved on to brief another group, Rho pulled up his map, studying it as he led us toward the north side of the hamlet. Other Bedlam squads were already gathering there, checking weapons and trading information.

  "Alright, you lot!" Rho announced, addressing the assembled fighters. He began pointing to different sections of his map and assigning teams to various sectors of the northern farmlands.

  "The plan is simple." he explained. "Individual squads will spread out into the fields to locate threats. We'll have a central force ready to reinforce you when you encounter Fringe. Split up wide and be thorough - you never know where these bastards will be hiding. This is as much a stealth mission as anything else - they'll scatter if they're alerted early."

  As the other squads dispersed to their assigned sectors, Rho walked over to our team.

  "Everyone ready to go?" he asked, checking his revolver one last time.

  I felt the weight of my weapons.

  Maybe Razorto wasn't here. Maybe he was. Either way, Fringe was Fringe, and this was what I'd been training for - a chance to strike back at the people who'd taken Clark from me. If I had to wade through an army of bandits to find the one I was looking for, so be it.

  I nodded.

  Rho saw something in my expression that satisfied him. "Let's move out."

  Our squad stalked into the hills, using the wheat fields as cover as we rotated around the city's perimeter. I kept my rifle ready, scanning constantly for movement as we made our way around the city's perimeter. The others fanned out around me - Kreuzer, a squat man with a shaved head who specialized in close-quarters combat; Reagan, a tall woman serving as our scout; and Lalanne, our support specialist who wore a belt lined with mana crystals and healing potions.

  The silence out there was complete, broken only by the soft rustle of grain against our clothes and the occasional whisper between squad members.

  "Jesus, would you look at that?" Kreuzer's voice carried easily in the stillness. He had paused at the crest of a hill, staring at the burning city.

  The dark, billowing smoke twisted upward from the burning metropolis, moving with such immense scale that it seemed to crawl across the sky in slow motion.

  "How the hell did the Fringe manage to do that to an entire city?"

  The meteors were still falling, trailing fire as they punctured the thick smoke and disappeared into the inferno below. Each impact sent shockwaves of orange light rippling through the smoke.

  "We'll figure that out when it comes to it." Rho said. "For now, focus on the threats immediately around us. That's our job."

  "But sir, this isn't normal Fringe activity." Kreuzer persisted. "This is something else entirely."

  "I said we'll address it later." Rho snapped. "The Fringe are opportunists. Whatever caused this, they're using it to prey on refugees. That's what we're here to stop."

  Kreuzer nodded reluctantly and resumed his position. We continued our sweep, moving methodically through the fields.

  Finally, a message appeared in our squad's group chat.

  [Reagan]: Found something. Fringe over the next hill. At least 5-6 of them.

  [Rho]: Hold position. Davi, with me. Everyone else maintain perimeter.

  I caught Rho's eye across the field. He made a series of quick hand gestures - advance low, maintain silence, converge on Reagan's position. I nodded and began moving forward, keeping my body below the tops of the wheat stalks.

  We crept through the golden sea, eventually reaching a stone wall where Reagan was crouched. She acknowledged us with a brief nod, then pointed toward a structure in the valley beyond. Through a gap in the wall, I could see a large farmhouse nestled in the next valley - three stories with a sizable yard and outbuildings.

  Several figures crossed the yard and entered. Even from this distance, I could make out their ragged clothes and weapons - definitely Fringe.

  "What do you think?" Rho whispered, squinting at the farmhouse. "Looting or coming back from scouting?"

  Reagan shook her head. "It's an NPC house - what loot would there be?"

  "Maybe they're hunting for refugees." Rho suggested. "People flee the city, find this nice place to hide in. Fringe come along..."

  "I'll check." I volunteered, passing my rifle to Reagan. "Cover me."

  She took the weapon and quickly settled into position on the wall, sighting down the scope toward the farmhouse.

  I vaulted over the stone wall and sprinted to the next piece of cover - a cluster of barrels left at the edge of the field. From there, I moved quickly inward, making my way toward the farmhouse while staying out of sight.

  When I reached the wooden fence surrounding the yard, I crouched low and worked my way around the perimeter. At each window, I paused to peer inside using a pair of binoculars.

  The place was crawling with Fringe bandits. I counted at least seven inside the main house, lounging in what had once been a family's living room. They weren't actively looting - instead, they seemed to be waiting for something, their weapons close at hand and their eyes constantly checking the windows.

  The group I'd seen earlier passed through the main building and entered a barn built into the side of the house. I shifted position, trying to get a look inside, but the barn had no windows.

  I ducked behind a water barrel and opened my group chat:

  [Davi Crockett]: At least 7 in the main house, possibly more upstairs and in the barn. Looks like they're using it as a base. The group that just arrived went into the barn, but I can't see inside.

  [Rho]: Got it. Davi, hold position. Everyone else, move in and check the perimeter. We're going to breach. I don't like not knowing what's in that barn. Lalanne and Kreuzer, you go straight for it. The rest of us will sweep the house.

  The rest of the squad materialized from the wheat fields, silently surrounding the farmhouse. They took positions beneath windows, weapons ready, waiting for the signal.

  I hunkered down beneath a large window on the north side of the building, swapping my binoculars for the carbine. Fully loaded, safety off.

  [Rho]: Grenades in. On three. One... two... three.

  I reached into my belt pouch and pulled out an ice crystal - a small, translucent blue gem that pulsed with frozen mana. I stood and hurled it through the window above me. The crystal shattered against the far wall inside, just as similar sounds of breaking glass echoed from all sides of the building. Each crystal broke with a musical ring, followed by an explosion of frigid air that briefly crystallized everything in its radius.

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  Without hesitation, I vaulted through the broken window frame into what had once been a living room. Two Fringe bandits stood frozen in place, their bodies encased in a thin shell of rapidly melting ice. I shot immediately, hitting the first one squarely in the head. The blue wireframe scars spread across his face as he collapsed.

  The second was already breaking free, the ice cracking as he moved. He tried to run for the door, but I fired quickly, catching him in the chest. The shot didn't deal enough damage to drop him, but it sent him staggering, the wind knocked out of him. As he fell, I stepped forward and put a clean shot into his head. His body shuddered on the floor, but he wasn't getting up.

  A crash from the hallway gave me just enough warning. A third Fringe charged through the door, swinging a wicked-looking cleaver at my head. I sidestepped his wild attack, bringing the butt of my rifle around to slam into his ribs. The impact sent him sprawling across the floor. Before he could recover, I put a round in the back of his head. My rifle clicked empty - the ammo wouldn't regenerate for another two minutes.

  I slung it across my back and drew Jax's sword before moving quickly into the next room - the kitchen. The space was already littered with the bodies of Fringe bandits, blue wireframe wounds crisscrossing their forms. Lalanne and Kreuzer were at the far end, preparing to breach the door that led to the barn.

  Before they could move, the door burst open from the other side. A group of Fringe charged through, led by a mage throwing out fistfuls of fire. Lalanne took one full to the face. He screamed, staggering backward as the flames consumed his face and upper body.

  "Shit!" Kreuzer dove for cover behind an overturned table.

  I rolled behind the kitchen island just as a fireball scorched the wall where I'd been standing. "Mage!" I shouted.

  A shadow passed over me. I looked up to see a Fringe bandit vaulting over the counter, his machete raised high. I brought Jax's sword up to meet the blow, deflecting it to the side before driving my blade into his chest. Again, no damage on its own, but it sent him reeling back, gasping for breath.

  I followed through, grabbing his wrist and twisting sharply. The machete in his hand rotated, and I guided it downward, using his own blade to sever his arm at the elbow. He howled, falling back as his limb disintegrated into blue motes of light.

  The mage was readying another spell, a ball of fire growing over his shoulder. Without thinking, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter and threw it. The blade spun through the air and buried itself in the mage's forearm, pinning it to his face just as he was about to release the spell.

  A gunshot cracked through the chaos, and the mage's head snapped back, a blue wireframe hole appearing in his forehead. He collapsed in a heap as Rho stepped into the kitchen, his revolver trailing wisps of smoke.

  "Kreuzer, get Lalanne out of here!" Rho shouted. Kreuzer nodded, grabbing Lalanne's arm and dragging him toward the front of the house.

  "Davi, follow me!" Rho circled around to the barn door, motioning for me to take the opposite side. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal canister.

  "Chamomile!" he shouted - Bedlam's code word for a flashbang.

  I pressed myself against the wall and covered my ears as Rho tossed the canister through the doorway. A second later, a blinding flash and deafening bang erupted from inside the barn.

  I moved in first, sword leading the way. Two Fringe bandits were writhing on the ground next to a large wagon, their hands clasped over their eyes. I didn't hesitate - I drove forward, cutting their limbs off. Neither had a chance to fight back as I disabled them both.

  Rho circled the wagon, his revolver tracking smoothly as he checked each corner and rafter of the barn. "Clear!"

  Reagan appeared in the doorway. "Building's clear. We have twelve Fringe unconscious with three more dead."

  "Any injuries other than Lalanne's?" Rho asked, holstering his weapon.

  "No sir," Reagan replied, "and he's saying he's fine."

  "Excellent." Rho approached the wagon that dominated the center of the barn. It was loaded with wooden chests. He reached for one, but an error window popped up in front of him: 'LOCKED: Requires Owner Authentication.'

  "Looks like they're pooling their loot here. Requires an ID lock... Let's see if we have the owner here with us." He checked the interface. "Name's Zeldovich39."

  He walked over to the two fallen Fringe bandits and pulled the blanket away from one's face. The nameplate appeared above the unconscious figure:

  Venon42 [Grimoire]

  My breath caught in my throat. Grimoire. That was Razorto's guild.

  We moved quickly through the farmhouse, examining each of the fallen Fringe members. I personally checked each one. But Razorto wasn't there - not among the living or the dead.

  We did, however, find Zeldovich39 - he was the one I'd had to shoot twice in the living room. He was barely conscious, but we dragged his limp body into the barn and propped him up against the wagon. Rho manipulated the bandit's arm, using his hand to interact with the wagon's menu. The error message disappeared, replaced by a confirmation window, and the locks on the chests clicked open.

  Rho tossed Zeldovich's body aside. "Alright, let's get a horse saddled on this thing and take it over to HQ. Pile the Fringe on top - we'll save the support crew a trip, too."

  We dragged the unconscious Fringe bandits across the barn floor, piling them unceremoniously on top of the wooden chests in the wagon. Their limbs flopped like rag dolls.

  "Movement on the perimeter!" Kreuzer shouted.

  Rho turned to me. "Davi, there's a tower on the third floor. Get up there and get me a visual!"

  Reagan unstrapped my rifle from her back. "Take this!" She tossed it to me. I caught it with one hand while tossing her my carbine.

  I bolted through the barn door and into the house, taking the stairs three at a time. On the second floor I spotted a narrow staircase tucked away in the corner of a study. I charged up it, emerging into a hallway with a wooden ladder at the end that led to a trapdoor in the ceiling.

  I slung the rifle across my back and climbed, pushing the trapdoor open with my shoulder. Light flooded in as I hauled myself into a little reading room at the top of the house. The circular space was lined with waist-high bookshelves built into the walls with a small writing desk positioned beneath a continuous band of windows that wrapped around the entire perimeter.

  They were everywhere.

  Fringe bandits poured across the landscape like a swarm of ants, trampling through the wheat fields, leaping over stone walls, sprinting along the dirt paths. Their distant whoops and hollers grew louder as they converged on our position.

  I quickly opened the group chat:

  [Davi]: We're surrounded. Too many to count.

  [Rho]: Get ready for a fight, lads - save your consumables for when they'll count. Reinforcements are on the way, ETA 10 minutes; we need to hold out.

  Ten minutes. An eternity in a firefight.

  I took a deep breath, used the butt of the rifle to break out the window for a cleaner shot, and settled the scope over my eye. The Fringe were closing in fast now, already reaching the fence that surrounded the farmyard. One particularly large bandit vaulted over the wooden slats, a battle axe clutched in his meaty fist as he charged across the open yard.

  I tracked him through the scope. Inhale. Hold. Squeeze.

  The rifle kicked against my shoulder as the shot cracked through the air. Through the scope, I watched the big man's topple forward, momentum carrying him into a tumbling roll that bowled through a cluster of bandits who'd just made it over the fence. They went down like pins, scrabbling and cursing in the dirt.

  A heartbeat later, lightning erupted from one of the downstairs windows - Rho's work. The bolt arced across the yard and chained through another group of advancing Fringe, their bodies convulsing as the electricity coursed through them. They dropped to the ground, twitching and stunned.

  The effects of either attack wouldn't last long, but that wasn't the point. We were breaking their momentum, shattering their confidence in their numerical advantage. Like a wave hitting a seawall, their advance fractured and scattered.

  Some dove behind water troughs and garden sheds. Others flattened themselves in the tall grass just inside the fence. A few bolder ones tried to return fire from their positions of cover. One took aim at my tower with what looked like a blunderbuss. The shot went wide, pellets peppering the roof several feet to my right, and I easily took them out in return.

  I worked methodically, picking off Fringe who exposed themselves for too long or tried to rally others for a coordinated push. Each shot found its mark, but there were simply too many of them. For every one I dropped, three more appeared at the fence line.

  When the rifle's ammo was spent, I abandoned my position, slinging the rifle across my back and dropping down the ladder into the hallway below. As my feet hit the floor, the sound of shattering glass echoed from somewhere beneath me, followed by shouts.

  "Too many in the back!" Kreuzer's voice carried up the stairwell as I raced down toward the second floor.

  Rho's commanding tone cut through the chaos. "All to the front - we're going to have to break out! Follow me and don't call mounts until my order!"

  I hit the ground floor just as Reagan emerged from a side room, her face streaked with sweat. She thrust my carbine at me.

  The squad gathered in the front entryway - Lalanne was shuffling through healing crystals, topping up our health while Rho peered through a crack in the door. Behind us, the sounds of combat drew closer, punctuated by the crash of furniture being overturned.

  "Ready?" Rho asked, his hand on the door handle. We nodded in unison.

  A massive explosion rocked the rear of the house - one of Rho's traps triggering as the Fringe pushed too far into the kitchen. The flash of light was visible even from where we stood.

  "Now!" Rho shouted. He kicked the door open and charged into the yard.

  Spell balls formed near his shoulders as he ran, coalescing into spheres of crackling energy that he flung at the nearest cluster of Fringe. The bolts exploded on impact, creating a slick of ice that froze several bandits in place, their mouths open in mid-shout.

  I followed directly behind him, carbine raised, picking off any Fringe who tried to flank us. Kreuzer and Lalanne brought up the rear with Reagan between them.

  We made it halfway across the yard when a shot rang out - louder than the rest, with a distinctive boom that I recognized instantly. The blunderbuss.

  Reagan staggered, then collapsed face-first into the dirt, a blue wireframe wound spreading across the back of her head. The shot had caught her perfectly.

  "Reagan down!" I shouted, spinning to find the shooter.

  A Fringe bandit stood by the fence where I'd taken out the original shooter, the fallen bandit's blunderbuss now in his hands. Rho and I both immediately shot him - a fireball from Rho engulfed his upper body in flames while my bullet tore through his temple. He toppled backward over the fence, the blunderbuss falling uselessly into the dirt. Meanwhile, Kreuzer hauled Reagan's limp form over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

  We tried to continue forward, but it was already too late. The momentary delay had cost us our window. The Fringe bandits who'd broken through the back of the house now poured out the front door. Others climbed over the fence or emerged from cover around the yard. They moved with a newfound coordination, spreading out to encircle us.

  "Back up!" Rho ordered, his voice steady despite the deteriorating situation. "Tight formation, protect Reagan!"

  Kreuzer set Reagan down, and we retreated to form a protective circle around her. Back-to-back, weapons pointed outward, we faced the encroaching horde. Fringe bandits slowly stepped toward us from all sides, but none rushed in for the kill. They jeered and taunted.

  "Look at the mighty Bedlam now!"

  "Nowhere to run, city dogs!"

  "We're gonna take our time with you!"

  The circle tightened as they closed in, step by measured step. What had started as a thirty-foot clearing around us gradually shrank to twenty, then fifteen.

  "They certainly like dragging things out, don't they?" Lalanne muttered.

  "They're afraid." Kreuzer said. "No one wants to be the first one in. They've seen what happened to their friends."

  "Let them." Rho said. "Time is on our side here."

  The Fringe continued their slow advance, confidence growing with each step. There were at least thirty of them now, spread in a complete circle around us. I kept my carbine moving, never focusing on one target for too long.

  The circle of Fringe bandits parted, and through the gap strutted a man whose very presence made my blood freeze in my veins. He swaggered forward with a greataxe balanced casually over one shoulder, his face obscured by a dark veil that hid his nameplate. But I didn't need to see it. That axe - that voice - it was him. Razorto.

  The world around me narrowed, all sound fading except for the thud of my heartbeat and the scrape of his axe as he struck the ground dramatically. Chunks of dirt flew up, pattering against our boots.

  "Well, well, well! Look at what we've got here! A buncha Bedlam hypocrites, here to save the world!"

  The other Fringe bandits laughed, emboldened by their leader's confidence. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. Everything I'd trained for, everything I'd endured - it all led to this moment.

  I took a step forward, breaking our defensive circle.

  "Crockett!" Rho hissed from behind me. "Stick together! That's an order!"

  But I took another step, then another, lowering my carbine. My arm rose of its own accord, finger pointing directly at the veiled man.

  "You!" The word escaped me as a half-whisper, half-growl.

  Razorto laughed, driving his axe into the ground again and shoveling a pile of dirt in my direction.

  "Yeah, me!" He spread his arms wide, playing to his audience. "You got beef?!"

  My voice emerged low and trembling with a rage I'd been nurturing for months. "You... You don't even remember me, do you?"

  Razorto tilted his head, studying me with casual disinterest. "I've got better things to do than think about you hypocrites."

  My voice rose, cracking with emotion. "What about my brother? Do you remember him?!"

  There was still no reaction in Razorto's eyes, not even a flicker of recognition. He waved his hand dismissively. "I just told you-!"

  Something snapped inside me. I dropped my carbine, letting it clatter to the dirt as I drew Jax's sword. With a primal scream, I lunged forward, swinging the blade in an arc toward his chest.

  "Davi!" Rho shouted behind me.

  "You stole him from me! You-!" I screamed, swinging again, wild and furious. "You took away the best person I've ever known!"

  All hell broke loose around us - the Bedlam squad tried to reposition to protect Reagan while the Fringe pounced from all sides. Gunfire erupted, spells flashed through the air, and bodies collided in furious combat.

  But none of it mattered to me. My focus remained solely on Razorto as he backpedaled away from my assault, his eyes widening with sudden concern. He narrowly avoided each swing of my blade.

  "Take it easy!" he called, ducking under a particularly vicious horizontal slash. "It's just a game!"

  "A game?!" I screamed. "My brother is DEAD!"

  Razorto tried to parry my next swing with the handle of his axe, but I was too fast. My blade connected with his wrist, slicing clean through. His hand disintegrated into blue particles, the greataxe falling away to thud heavily in the dirt.

  "Fuck!" he yelped, clutching the stump of his wrist as it leaked blue light. "What's wrong with you?!"

  "He was kind!" I screamed, advancing on him again, sword ready.

  Razorto's eyes widened with genuine fear now. "This isn't real!" he pleaded, stumbling backward. "None of this is real!"

  From my peripheral vision, I caught movement - a burly Fringe bandit charging at me from the side, arms outstretched to tackle me. Without breaking stride, I ducked under his grasp, pivoted, and slashed my sword across his forearms. They disintegrated on contact, and I shoved his now-harmless body aside with my shoulder before returning my attention to Razorto.

  "He always put me first!" I screamed, my voice raw with pain as I closed the distance again. Tears were streaming down my face now, blurring my vision.

  Razorto's back hit the side of the barn. He was trapped, his eyes darting desperately for an escape route. "He's not dead," he babbled, "he's just- he was just kicked from the server! He's waiting for you out there!"

  "He would do anything to make me laugh!"

  "Look, I didn't- this wasn't-" Razorto tripped over his own feet, falling backward against the wooden wall. "You have to snap out of it! It's just a game!"

  But there was fear in his eyes - real fear. He glanced around nervously. Even he didn't believe what he was saying.

  With a wordless cry, I launched myself at him, driving my blade into his chest again and again. Each stab sent blue wireframe cracks spreading across his body, but it wasn't enough. I wanted to make him hurt as best I could within the game's mechanics. I wanted my blade sinking into his flesh to feel substantial, to feel real. I wanted to feel something - anything.

  "He would have forgiven you!" I sobbed, my voice breaking as my arms continued their mechanical rise and fall. "He would have forgiven you! He was so much better than me!"

  Razorto's struggles weakened with each blow. His eyes, wide with terror, locked with mine one final time before his body began to glow. Finally, he died to raw damage. He burst into a cloud of glowing blue particles that swirled around me, catching in my tears, clinging to my clothes.

  And in that moment, as the man who had taken everything from me dissolved into dust, I felt... nothing.

  Behind me, a wave of gunfire ripped through the air, followed by thundering hoofbeats. The Bedlam reinforcements had arrived, a cavalry charge led by a wagon covered in metal spikes being driven like a chariot. The remaining Fringe broke and ran, many getting knocked unconscious or trampled in their desperate flight.

  Rho and the others were wounded, but alive. Around us, the victorious Bedlam members whooped and cheered, rounding up unconscious Fringe bandits and piling them into wagons. The ground was littered with Fringe - some dissolving into particles, others groaning in pain as they regained consciousness.

  But it all felt so... insubstantial. So pointless.

  I remained sitting there in the storm of dust blowing through the air, my back against the rough wooden planks of the barn. My face was wet with tears I didn't remember shedding, my sword limp in my hand.

  In the distance, meteors continued to rain down on Stonehearth City, each impact sending plumes of fire higher into the blood-red sky. The fires had begun to spread beyond the city walls now, reaching the closest farmlands. Curtains of black smoke stretched well beyond the limits of the city, turning day into an apocalyptic twilight.

  I had done it. I had found the man who killed my brother.

  So when would it stop hurting?

  ---

  Next Time:

  Meanwhile, in the city.

  Episode 16 - The Stonehearth Calamity