Page 65 of Remnants: Disruption
And, God, I seethem.
Mara’s death hadn’t been blocked like Malachi’s. No, her death had been at the hands of someone incredibly dangerous and efficient.
Red haze coats the hall as we stare at one another. The red refracts off the smoky darkness giving the entire scene a really cool look that I wish I could admire right now.
They wear a robe and hood that look no different from Mara’s final moments. Their head tilts a little as if examining me from afar.
Here I am looking like the embodiment of death and there they are with blood red mist dancing around them. If someone were to walk upon this little gathering, they’d be scared shitless.
The thought is almost enough to make me laugh, which probably just speaks to my near hysteria.
Their body language screams “I’m in charge here,” which is insanely frustrating because I’m starting to wonder if I should listen to the spirits.
Instead, I start forward. The pooled darkness at my feet shifts with every step.
“Stop,” their voice sounds hoarse and old. Like someone who’s seen a hundred generations. Someone far more powerful than me.
Finally heeding the warnings, I freeze, one foot raised to step into the delineated section of absence.
They gesture to their left and I follow the steadied finger to the door that I just now can discern through the shadows.
I let out a sharp breath at the scene within the tiny studio apartment. It’s no different from Mara’s death except that rather than it being the petite eco-terrorist, it’s the well-built serial killer.
“I need to speak to him before you do whatever it is you did to Mara,” I say, my voice distorted by the mask.
“You do not intend to save him?” their voice sounds nothing like the one from my nightmares. It sounds far more like an ancient being rending death upon the unworthy.
A god.
I’m facing down a god.
Great.
“I—” My brow creases. I glance back into the room and actually look at the man in question. The shadows on the other side of the barrier are his. Yet, he’s clearly being impeded. His shadows are being suppressed.
Or siphoned.
“The others are not kind to Remnants,” the god says. “Yet that does not mean Revenant deserves mercy for his sins.”
“That’s what the justice system is for,” I say, tasting the hypocrisy on my tongue.
The god apparently caught it too, because they let out what must be a laugh.
“The same justice system that tried to have you executed this very morning?”
My world narrows in an instant. It feels like the air has been removed from my lungs. Like I’ve been struck by a fucking building.
Again.
“Arya,” the god says, stepping close enough that their power warps the air around us. “Let me work and I shall let you read his corpse. Without me, you’ll get nothing—just like Blackwood.”
I leap without thinking, closing the gap between us. The moment I meet the void barrier, everything turns on its head. My body and mind feel disconnected. Like something is physically splitting me from my source of power. From something that should be integral to my being.
Worse than the anti-Remnant tech. Worse than any bullet from a manifested weapon.
I fall to the ground, and my face collides roughly with the tiled floor. In the same breath, the god is beside me. Their hands gently pull at my mask, detaching it in a way that feels rehearsed.
I’m helpless as cool air hits my face. I try to search the hooded face, but whatever tech they use completely conceals everything within the void-like hood.
