Current Transmissions:


Fallen Four

Callan tensed atop the rubble. Dex took Marshal's arm. “We need to go, we have to keep moving.”

Marshal bent to retrieve his staff. “Wait, what about Darius?” In the stories of the Dragons there were always four of them. Marshal had wondered if there was some unconscious symbolism at work: four Dragons, four Agencies of Haven. The Staves, The Swords, the Cups, The Coins. Dexter, Wraith, Callan, and Darius. 

“He stayed behind,” Dex said. “He wasn't ready to leave.” 

“Could he have survived?” Marshal asked. Callan descended quietly from his perch, pointing to the left. Dex nodded at the gesture. 

“Like Wraith said, we're way past impossible. Now come on, there are more closing.” 

“No. I'm going to find Darius. I have to know.” 

“I'll tell you every damn answer to every damn question you have, once we've made it back to Haven. They have to be warned.” 

Marshal shook his head. “It's... It's not the same. I have to complete my mission. I have to see Frontline for myself. Especially if we are at the end of things.” 

Dex sighed. “Son, you will not make it there -” 

“I will take him,” Wraith said, returning from the shadows. “Callan can see you safely to Haven so they can at least be told what is coming. And you need to find out why the Arcana let this guy come out here alone. One final mystery.” 

Dex stared at Wraith. Marshal had the sense that her mask meant nothing to Dex, that he could see exactly what she was thinking and feeling. She made that same casual shrug. They both looked to Callan, who nodded. 

Marshal gave Dex his staff, an upgrade from the cane.

And so it came to be that Wraith and Marshal parted from Callan and Dex, and traveled for days through the borderlands, foraging for edible weeds and rainwater, hiding often, evading – as only a legendary Ninja could – the clusters of Demons marching towards Haven. Wraith said little. Marshal warned her that his dose of Cloak would expire soon; she began teaching him meditations that would shroud him from the Eyes. On the fourth day Marshal saw a frenzied burst of putrid colours on the horizon; Wraith told him that it was discharge from an active but corrupted Grid. By the journey's end Marshal felt toxic, he felt purged, felt broken and forged. 

And so Marshal came at last to Frontline, where he met the last Dragon, Darius.