The King's Men, led by Captains Lockwood and Lee, plunged into the maelstrom, a whirlwind of steel and defiance against the overwhelming tide of Void-Riders. Laser fire crisscrossed the tumultuous skies, illuminating the determined faces of the King's Men as they engaged the pirates before them.
Moving with raw, kinetic force, Lockwood parried a vicious swipe from a Void-Pirate's claw with his energy shield, the impact jarring him to his core. "Having fun, Lee?" he quipped, a wry grin flashing across his face as he retaliated with a precisely aimed shot that vaporized the pirate's head.
Lee, her movements fluid and deadly, sliced through the leg of a descending Void-Pirate with her gleaming sword, sending it spiraling to the streets below. "Just another Tuesday, Lockwood! Though I admit, this is a slightly larger swarm than usual." She rolled, dodging a volley of plasma bolts, and then unleashed a burst of rapid-fire from her sidearm, dropping two more pirates.
"Understatement of the year!" Lockwood grunted, deflecting another attack. "They just keep coming! Any brilliant ideas stewing in that tactical mind of yours, Captain?"
"Always, Lockwood, always," Lee replied, her eyes scanning the relentless aerial assault. "But I'm saving the best for when we really need it. Let's see how much fight they have in them first." They fought back-to-back, a formidable duo against the seemingly endless waves of enemies. The air crackled with energy, the clang of weapons against carapace, and the guttural cries of the Void-Pirates mixing with the determined shouts of the King's Men.
Despite their skill and unwavering courage, the sheer numerical superiority of the Void-Pirates began to take its toll. The King's Men, though fighting valiantly, were being pushed back, their formations fracturing under the relentless assault. Lockwood found himself isolated for a moment, parrying a flurry of blows, when he saw Lee, surrounded, her back against a crumbling wall, fighting with desperate ferocity.
"Lee! Fall back!" he yelled, cutting down two pirates to try and reach her.
"No can do, Lockwood! We're not retreating!" she shouted back, her voice strained but resolute. As a fresh wave of Void-Pirates descended upon her, their menacing forms blotting out the sun, Lee's expression hardened. "Alright, you over-sized bugs! You want a show? You got one!"
With a swift, decisive motion, Captain Lee pulled off her left glove and folded her sleeve up, exposing her forearm. There, emblazoned on her skin, was a vivid, intricate sun tattoo. Her eyes, usually sharp and focused, now held a fierce, otherworldly glow.
"Blue Sun!" she intoned, her voice echoing with an ancient power that seemed to resonate through the very air.
As the words left her lips, the sun tattoo on her arm began to glow with an intense, sapphire light. It shimmered, pulsed, and then, impossibly, detached itself from her skin, rising into the air as if shedding its earthly confines. The glowing symbol expanded, twisting and coalescing, rapidly transforming before Lockwood's astonished eyes.
In moments, the brilliant blue light solidified, forming a humanoid, angelic being. Its head was a swirling, miniature sun, engulfed in dancing flames, casting an ethereal glow. Majestic wings unfurled from its back, beating gently and stirring the dust and debris around them, while a radiant halo floated serenely atop its fiery head.
The angelic entity hovered for a moment, suspended in the turbulent sky, then slowly descended, its fiery sun-head beginning to spin rapidly in dizzying circles. As it spun, an incredible force rippled outwards. The air around it warped and shimmered, and then, with an almost audible groan, the very fabric of space seemed to twist.
A powerful gravitational and centrifugal force, emanating from the spinning sun-head, selectively seized the Void-Pirates closest to the being. They shrieked, their bodies caught in an invisible vortex, spiraling wildly and uncontrollably. Some were flung upwards into the higher atmosphere, mere specks against the vastness of the sky, while others were slammed together with sickening thuds, their carapaces cracking and shattering. The angelic being continued its mesmerizing, destructive dance, clearing a swath through the overwhelming enemy forces, a beacon of blue fire and impossible power amidst the bedlam.
Lockwood watched, jaw agape, as the Blue Sun entity spun, a gripping vortex of blue flame and light. Void-Pirates, moments before an overwhelming threat, were now mere debris, sucked into the swirling forces or flung away like discarded husks. The impossible power on display was breathtaking, a silent testament to Lee's hidden strength.
"I'll be damned, Lee!" Lockwood finally managed to shout over the unnatural winds. "When you said 'brilliant ideas,' I certainly didn't expect that! Remind me never to play poker with you!"
Lee, visibly drained but with a defiant glint in her eyes, managed a tired smile. "I told you I was saving the best, didn't I?" She focused on the angelic figure as it continued to carve a swathe through the enemy forces.
A more astute group of Void-Pirates had pulled back, taking cover amidst the city's shattered remnants. One, his voice a distorted murmur through a comms unit, voiced his disbelief. "No one mentioned there were going to be powerful Invokers."
Another pirate got up, unmoved, scoffed. "Doesn't change much. Alright men, we attack from a distance."
A dozen pirates swiftly emerged from their concealment, their advanced firearms locking onto Lee and the still-active Blue Sun. A hail of plasma bolts and metallic slugs tore through the air, aimed squarely at their targets.
Seeing the incoming barrage, Lockwood acted on instinct. He surged forward, placing himself directly in front of Lee, and with a resounding cry, he bellowed, "Sanctuary!"
His energy shield flared with an intense, protective light. But it wasn't just the shield that activated. As the projectiles neared, the air around Lockwood and Lee rippled, and dozens of ethereal, glowing energy hands materialized. These phantom limbs, radiating a soft light, spread out, intercepting every incoming round. Each bolt, each slug, was caught with uncanny precision, held firm between the glowing fingers of the hands, their destructive momentum utterly negated.
The volley hovered, frozen in mid-air—harmlessly caught, a silent demonstration of an unseen and formidable defense.
The energy hands, holding the suspended projectiles, clenched. With a sudden, synchronized thrust, they launched the plasma bolts and metallic slugs back toward their origin. The counterattack came fast and true. Several Void-Pirates, caught unawares, screamed in agony as the very rounds they'd fired now found their mark, their exoskeletons rupturing in bursts of sickly green fluid. Others, however, displayed surprising agility, ducking and weaving, their movements a blur as they evaded the unexpected counter-attack.
"Fall back! Fall back!" one pirate shrieked, scrambling for cover.
"Cowards! Stay and fight!" another yelled, trying to rally his comrades, but the momentum had shifted.
A wave of renewed confidence surged through Lockwood and Lee, and indeed, through the remaining King's Men. The impossible odds suddenly seemed less daunting.
Their new-found morale was short-lived. A figure dropped from the sky,landing exactly between the two warring factions. It was the masked man in the black leather jacket, his obsidian mask wearing a sly smile that seemed to taunt the clashing factions. He observed the scene, his gaze sweeping over the scattered Void-Pirates and the defiant King's Men, before his eyes settled on Lee and the still-radiant Blue Sun.
"Pathetic," his amplified voice boomed, resonating with an almost palpable disdain. "Just two measly Invokers and the morale of my men crumbles. Well, isn't that just a brilliant showcase of their iron will? Or not, Captains?"
Lee stepped forward, her stance steadfast."Your men are merely realizing the true nature of their cause, pirate. You speak of freedom, but you bring only anarchy."
The masked man's neon grin seemed to stretch. "Disorder is merely a catalyst for change, dear Captain. And change is what Najjari desperately needs. This 'peace' you cling to is nothing but a suffocating cage." His gaze shifted to Lockwood. "And you, Captain, with your noble 'Sanctuary.' Always protecting, never truly fighting for something real."
"We fight for order, for the innocent," Lockwood retorted, his shield held ready. "Something a villain like you wouldn't understand."
"Perhaps," the masked man mused, a chilling amusement in his tone. "Or perhaps you're simply afraid to question the fragile peace you uphold. A peace that extends only to those safely within the King's Domain, while countless others suffer under injustice outside your gilded walls." His voice dropped, losing its prior mocking tone for something sharper, more cynical. "Don't mistake me for a noble revolutionary, Captains. I share no grand ideals with the so-called 'Rebellions.' But I will ensure the King's Men don't lay their hands on the Primordial Scrolls or the power of the World Map until my own objectives are met. And believe me, they will be." With a flourish, he reached into his jacket, pulling out two wicked-looking kukri blades, their curved edges glinting ominously in the tumultuous light. "Enough talk. Let's see if your 'order' can withstand my will."
Without another word, he launched himself forward with incredible speed, a black blur hurtling towards the Invokers.
The Blue Sun reacted instantly. From its fiery sun-head, solar flares erupted, streaks of searing energy arcing towards the masked man. But he was unnervingly quick, weaving and contorting, his movements a fluid dance of evasion, effortlessly maneuvering around each fiery projectile.
As he closed the distance, the Blue Sun intensified its attack, its gravitational pull strengthening. The masked man was caught, his incredible speed suddenly hampered as he struggled against the unseen force. He was being drawn in, pulled inexorably towards the spinning, fiery head.
But before he was completely swallowed by the vortex, he let out a guttural roar and, with a powerful, desperate heave, flung one of the kukri blades. It spun through the air, a deadly silver streak aimed directly at Lee.
Lockwood, anticipating the move, moved with lightning speed, interposing his glowing shield. The blade struck the shimmering energy field with a metallic clang, deflecting sharply into the air.
Lee and Lockwood's eyes, drawn by the unexpected trajectory, became fixated on the spinning blade as it arced overhead. Just as it reached its apex, the handle of the blade exploded with a muffled pop, releasing a cloud of dense, insidious toxic gas. It hung in the air for only a moment before dissipating, but it was enough.
A searing pain lanced through their eyes, and their vision immediately began to blur. Disorientation washed over them as their other senses, too, went haywire. Sounds became muffled, tastes metallic, and the ground beneath them seemed to shift, making them dizzy and vulnerable. The masked man, moments ago caught in the Blue Sun's grasp, was now free, his chilling laughter echoing in their disoriented minds.
A harsh, hacking cough tore from Lee's throat, her hand instinctively flying to her mouth as she stumbled. Lockwood, similarly afflicted, gasped for air, his vision swimming, the vibrant world around him reduced to a blurry, disorienting haze. Both Invokers dropped to their knees, their limbs suddenly heavy, their lungs burning. They tried to utter words, to invoke another power, but their voices were stolen, reduced to wheezing gasps and silent struggles. The toxic gas had done its work, not only clouding their senses but binding their very ability to speak, to command.
The masked man, his obsidian mask now a smug, silent emoticon, surveyed the scene with an air of satisfaction. His amplified voice cut through the ringing in their ears. "Therein lies a crucial lesson in battle, crew. When faced with an Invoker, always keep them silenced. Gagged. Their power, you see, is derived from their words. Without their voices, their divine blood betrays them. They are but common men."
"You monster!" a King's Man roared, his face contorted with rage. "You'll pay for this!"
From various points around the plaza, the remaining King's Men, their faces grim and determined, surged forward. They didn't hesitate, abandoning any semblance of formation, their weapons raised—energy rifles, plasma swords, even a few traditional blades glinting in the ruined light. They sprinted towards the masked man, a wave of desperate fury.
The masked man simply chuckled, a low, chilling sound that echoed in the disoriented minds of Lee and Lockwood. He met their charge with an unnerving grace. He ducked under a sweeping energy blade, the air whistling where his head had been, then drove the hilt of a kukri into the ribs of another charging soldier, sending him sprawling. He parried a rifle butt with the flat of his other blade, spinning out of the way of a follow-up shot, moving with practiced ease and lethal accuracy.
He wasn't merely striking; he was deflecting, redirecting, turning their own momentum against them. A King's Man lunged with a bayonet, but the masked man twisted, catching the weapon's shaft and wrenching it from the soldier's grip before delivering a swift, incapacitating kick to the man's chest. He moved like smoke, appearing and disappearing, leaving a trail of disarmed or incapacitated King's Men in his wake, never pausing, never faltering. His twin kukris were extensions of his will, flashing through the air in deadly arcs, disarming opponents with shocking speed before they could even register the loss of their weapons.
The masked man stood alone among the defeated King's Men. He had handled their desperate attacks with uncanny ease, leaving each assailant neutralized without wasted motion. He then approached Lee and Lockwood, who lay on the ground, still conscious but wrestling with the debilitating effects of the gas.
"Your strength is impressive," the masked man's amplified voice echoed, a chilling calm in his tone. "Yet I exist beyond where mere strength can reach."
Lee, an unyielding spirit burning in her eyes despite her physical torment, managed to reach out a trembling hand. Her fingers clasped around the masked man's leg, a desperate, raw refusal to submit. It was a weak grip, but powerful in its sheer force of will.
The masked man merely glanced down. With effortless detachment, he simply freed his leg from her grasp. "C'mon, men," he commanded, his voice now directed towards his lurking subordinates. "We've got a map to catch."