A minor commander among the attackers was caught completely off guard when several of his men suddenly stared off into the distance, with some of those farther back even breaking into a panicked retreat.
He immediately opened a channel to a subordinate positioned closer to the disturbance.
"What the hell is going on?!"
<"Some insane woman is tearing through our ranks from the north!">
"What do you mean tearing through? Can't you idiots stop a single woman?"
<"They're trying! She's just cutting through–argh!">
The transmission cut off abruptly.
That alone was enough to make him move.
But the instant he took a step forward, something clamped around his neck with savage force before his body was ripped off the ground and dragged through an assembly of his own men, the impacts breaking through them, before he was hurled through the air at breakneck speed.
Despite the sheer number of Serval's forces still flooding the city, Ally carved through every obstacle in her path without hesitation, streaking through the streets in a straight, unbroken line.
She was moving so fast that even the Eminents among them failed to perceive her approach until they were already cleaved apart, but they were not her objective.
They were merely collateral. Her true focus was the dense cluster of higher-level presences she sensed at the city's center.
However, the moment her senses locked onto one whose status eclipsed the rest, she seized him by the throat, shattered through the ranks behind him, and leapt skyward to conduct a brief interrogation without breaking momentum.
"Who are you?"
"Unhand me, you wench. That is not mine to disclose."
"What are you doing in this boundary?"
"Do you not understand? I refuse to tell you anything!"
He then held on to the hand constricting his neck, and it began to glow with an unnatural light.
"For the glory of our avatar, we shall scar the world!"
He seemed to be midway through activating an ability that required physical contact, but Ally had no interest in witnessing its effects.
She let gravity do the work instead, while he failed to realize they were already losing altitude.
Moments later, his head drove straight through the pavement.
By the time his body registered the impact, Ally was already gone, back on course and sprinting forward as though nothing had happened at all.
That was not an Authority. Some of them seem to wield a certain kind of Grace. It might even extend to some of their leaders.
She pondered this as she drew within viewing distance of her target building.
She had entrusted the rescue of civilians and the elimination of remaining attackers to three of her squad members, while another stayed behind to restore the severed power to the portals.
The reasoning was simple, she could sense multiple individuals whose Authority levels she could not gauge.
This meant they were either on par with her or potentially far beyond her own strength. And given the location where they appeared to be congregating, she had no choice but to proceed.
One of the squad members she had brought along in response to the SOS hailed from Drávark, and was, astonishingly, the son of one of its leaders.
The revelation that these powerful Eminents had taken over the government building at the colony's center during a major conference was unlikely to sit well with his emotional composure.
A Veil officer must first abandon their former life as a mere mortal to begin their void-aging, meaning that acting on impulse and charging in before the leader's instructions would constitute both a severe breach of protocol and a life-threatening risk.
Fortunately, another protocol dictated that, in the event of an evacuation, the figurehead of any critical infrastructure must be prioritized to preserve institutional continuity.
Regardless of anyone's grievances with that protocol mattered little at the moment, because abusing it in this instance would at least mitigate the officer's internal conflict.
Moreover, there was no telling what the Eminents planned, or what might occur if she delayed, waiting for reinforcements that might never arrive in time.
In the end, she resolved to strike directly.
Her level far surpassed that of her current squad, so she would have to take the initiative alone, as bringing them along might do more harm than good.
Her instincts proved correct as soon as she rammed her way into the conference hall, offering no courtesy in her entrance.
It may have been reckless, but she judged it preferable rather than squandering precious seconds attempting a stealthy infiltration, especially if an avoidable catastrophe was unfolding.
Yet the moment she entered, she nearly hesitated.
If she had not been able to sense the suffocating pressure radiating through the room, or if she had forgotten the dire circumstances gripping Drávark, she might have assumed she had entered the wrong location and turned back.
Nothing in the room suggested it was occupied by the leaders of the criminals responsible for setting the colonies aflame.
In fact, if she had to draw a comparison, it was eerily like walking into the breakroom back at headquarters.
"It wasn't my fault this time, boss, I swear. Jane was the one making creepy stuff again."
"You little snitch, you said you wouldn't tell!"
"Bleh! Just admit it's your fault we showed up late."
"Ngh… if that's how you want to play it… Fiérre went to a school and then blew it up a while ago!"
"Hey, that was a feeding promise! You're not supposed to break those! I gave you half my lunch that day!"
An adolescent boy and a teenage girl bickered beside a young man sprawled across several chairs.
Unlike the other two, he didn't radiate Authority, nor did he exude the unsettling presence of Grace. He appeared utterly ordinary. But she could tell there was far more to him than met the eye.
"How about this," he said lazily, "you're both idiots. Let's settle it there. See? I'm not mad anymore."
"Hey, you can't say that, you jerk!"
"Yeah! And how come you're never mad when Sweet Root's late?"
"Cause girlie's a free spirit. You can't cage someone like her."
On the far side of the room, a black-haired woman sat backwards on a chair, her arms draped over the backrest.
"You say that like you're easier to deal with, Annabeth. Half the time, you forget who you even are when you wander off."
A man stood near the center of the room, arms folded, his muscles straining against a shirt that looked intentionally too tight-fitted.
"Leave my business out of this," she scoffed. "I'm still wondering why you haven't made a move on me. You usually act like you want to mate with any girl that breathes."
"Yeah, like I'm that stupid. I might be into crazy, but not the kind that can kill me on a whim. Women like you need more attention than most."
"Aww… how boring. And here I was wondering how thrilling it'd be to see your brain matter for myself someday."
Toward the back of the room, a thin man repeatedly hurled knives at the same spot on the wall. Each blade struck with uncanny precision, some landing so cleanly they stacked atop one another.
"Ugh… I'm bored," he muttered. "There are still so many rabbits running around out there. Why couldn't I keep hunting?"
The only exception in the casual atmosphere was the man standing atop the stage platform, his back turned to the room. A four-clawed hook replacing his right hand.
"The ritual cannot begin until all of us are present."
From her angle, Ally could see him holding a large silver chalice, though its contents remained obscured.
"That said, two of us are still missing. I had Cydra operate within the Riders' colony, she will arrive shortly. As for Sweet Root, I can't begin to guess where she's wandered off to. Still…"
He paused before eyeing the man splayed on the chairs.
"She knows our leader is here. She'll show herself."
No… There are still two of them out there? Will the others be alright?
As the thought lingered, Ally's gaze fell upon the leaders of Drávark, splayed across the floor.
A small number of them still clung to life, but none could be called alright.
Their bodies alone told a grim story, clear signs of brutal torture marred them, and she could scarcely imagine what had transpired before her arrival.
Another pressing matter was the man himself.
It felt like the only thing she could note about him was the claw on his right hand, nothing else.
As if it drew all attention away from his every other feature.
In fact, if she were asked to describe him on another day, she would only be able to mention that metal claw.
This was sinister enough to be considered supernatural.
"If any of you are so bored, you can start by entertaining our guest. It would seem she has been waiting patiently for some hospitality."
At last, they acknowledged her presence.
Even though she had quite literally broken her way inside, not one of them had bothered to address her, an omission she herself had oddly mirrored, having failed to establish her presence beforehand.
"By the authority of VEIL, I'm placing you all under arrest."
"Damn, lady. You're not even gonna read us our rights?"
"Jane, I think those are for cops."
"I was being coy, you dipshit. I was just wondering what she thinks she can do on her own."
"She's right, you know?"
The burly man turned toward Ally and began walking toward her.
"Still, I want to be the one to handle this one."
"Seriously?" Annabeth eyed him. "That's a shock."
"I guess so. I mean, she looks totally my type and all." He stopped, drawing in a slow breath. "But I can't ignore the amount of my men's blood I smell on her."
...
Cydra arrived above the Central Colony, standing atop an aircraft with complete disregard for inertia.
It was her duty to steer the riders of Drávark toward mass self-destruction through her inclinations, at least until the time came to initiate the ritual.
However, having indulged herself a bit too freely, she would arrive later than expected.
Before the aircraft could pass over the ritual site, she sensed an unfamiliar Eminent steadily reducing the number of Serval's personal army.
Drávark had no record of a significant number of awakened Eminents, certainly not one that powerful, leaving her suspicions to converge on a single conclusion.
VEIL officers had arrived.
A smirk crept across her face as she leapt from the speeding aircraft.
Since she had merely instructed the pilot to deliver her to the Central Colony, there was no telling what would happen once she departed, and she couldn't have cared less.
Moments later, her descent shattered the ground behind her target, prompting an immediate reaction even before he turned to face her.
"Dale Turner, Authority of the Burgundy Stream. I exercise my authority."
Dale recognized how thoroughly outmatched he was the instant the woman in the blue, veiled dress touched down behind him. The realization compelled him to activate the playing field at once.
Despite the reservations surrounding the decision, opponents of her caliber were meant to be delayed by the lieutenant while the others reclaimed the city.
Unfortunately, plans rarely unfolded without complication.
A simple miscalculation alone would have been tolerable. But to be confronted so early by an enemy who might rival, or even surpass his superior was another matter entirely.
The thought was enough to make him curse his luck.
Still, he needed to determine her objective before making his next move.
Whether she sought the blood of the remaining civilians his squad had secured, or if she intended to halt his efforts to thin the ranks of the attackers.
That distinction would dictate everything.
If it were the latter, he could focus all his efforts on escape.
But if it were the former, then he would have to fulfill his duty.
"Why are you an officer?"
The question struck him dumb.
It came without warning, utterly detached from the lethal intent she had been projecting moments earlier.
"What?"
"I've heard some claim justice," she continued, "while their home boundaries rot in corruption. Others speak of order while their worlds lie in ruin. I've even heard money cited, even though a life of excess is readily available to an Eminent even without ever risking death."
He stared at her in silence, searching for a motive in her words, but finding nothing beyond genuine curiosity.
"So give me an answer of your own, if you can," she said. "Why abandon your home world to meddle in affairs that do not concern you?"
She waited.
And, slowly, he realized he was becoming obliged to answer.
"Well… because it's cool."
"…"
"Don't get me wrong, every other reason you mentioned is true as well. But speaking only for myself, saving the world has always been a childhood fantasy. And the moment I became capable of claiming that an entire population, no, an entire world, was glad to witness my arrival, I surpassed my own ideal. What's a better reason could I possibly have for becoming an officer?"
"…"
"Does that satisfy your–"
Pressure.
A suffocating pressure bared itself before him.
His stomach churned as the woman's rage surged outward.
"Another one. Just another selfish pig! It's always the same with you people! There has never been a true warrior of justice among any of you worthless imbeciles. And if you won't be able to stop me either, then you can curl up and die!"
She thrust a palm toward him, preparing to strike.
He reacted instantly.
"Grand Trine!"
Three dark orbs tinged with crimson formed behind him. He grasped one and hurled it forward without hesitation.
She held her palms out, as though intending to catch it, an action he observed without concern.
But as the orb closed the distance, she reconsidered and swiftly evaded its path.
Soon after, it passed through the space she had occupied and slammed into a nearby structure, immediately spreading its influence across every inch of it.
Though the orb had begun small, it rapidly expanded, devouring more and more of the building's composition before erupting in an explosion.
"You were right to dodge," He uttered, "Even if your level was high enough to withstand an absolute, formed through the playing field, you wouldn't have emerged unscathed."
Dale's burgundy streams allowed him to impose a law of motion upon his surroundings, behaving much like flowing water.
Anything that made contact with those currents was forcibly compelled to follow the direction he dictated.
Under normal circumstances, the ability granted him a considerable range. However, it often lacked the raw force necessary to tear apart certain structures.
That limitation was why access to the playing field allowed him to compress those streams into a dense centrifugal force that swallows and destroys anything it makes contact with in exchange for its range.
"A savagery befitting an officer," Cydra remarked as she surveyed the devastation. "Is this how you've been disposing of Serval's men? And yet you dare call yourself a hero?"
"First of all, I never claimed to be one," he replied, wagging a finger. "Heroes are strong enough to save both the innocent and the villain. We don't currently have the resources to make arrests and guarantee the safety of the civilians we haven't even recovered yet. Those are the kinds of choices officers are forced to make."
"How hypocritical," she scoffed. "I imagine that's how you justify sleeping at night."
"Look, lady, I don't know what makes you hate VEIL officers so much, and honestly, I don't think I care," he said flatly. "What's really getting on my nerves is that you still haven't activated your authority. The suspense is killing me."
He seized the two remaining orbs in his palms and dashed toward her, yet they showed no sign of dissipating or losing momentum.
He struck between lunges, attempting to force direct contact, but she glided effortlessly around each assault.
With every missed strike, the orbs seemed to swell, fed by the unavoidable particles in the surrounding space that inevitably followed their streams.
Then, as she hopped back to create a sliver of distance, he caught an opening and hurled one of them straight at her before her feet could touch the ground.
As it tore through the air, it expanded enough to engulf her, suggesting it would not be long before it detonated.
That alone ensured its effectiveness, even if she managed to evade it at the final moment.
However, she did not attempt to dodge this time.
Instead, she extended her palm.
"What are you doing? Did you forget what happens if you touch… it…"
It vanished.
More precisely, the mass of his attack disappeared. And in its place, a marble clattered against the ground.
"What… the hell?"
She bent down, picked up the marble, and regarded it with mild amusement.
"It's quite funny, really. I'm the lone non-combatant amongst the scars, yet I just happen to be a natural counter to your trump card. Thanks for the future ammo."
"There's no way… there's just no way! Even if you have an ability that condenses objects, my streams are purely phenomena. Nothing should have been able to affect them."
"Well, you're mistaken about one thing. I don't just condense anything I touch. My authority seals everything within the space I desire. Every single thing, including the laws apply."
Dale's swollen head finally began to clear as reality set in, reminding him of the kind of battle he was truly fighting.
Oh no… I might have gotten a bit carried away. She's definitely as dangerous as the lieutenant, no question.
"Is it setting in yet, what you've gotten yourself into?"
He snapped out of his daze as she suddenly produced several more marbles.
"No matter… all you have to do is declare you were wrong and quit Veil right here, and you won't end up like these fools."
"Those are…"
Within the marbles were Veil officers. Some were locked in stasis, others clearly alive within it, their bodies slack with exhaustion.
Most shocking of all was that everyone he recognized had been reported missing after responding to urgent distress messages requesting immediate assistance.
"Those cases… It's all been you?!"
"Cases? How shocking it is to think Veil would care enough about its officers to even consider investigating." She chuckled, then slowly advanced toward him. "Anyway, I want you to denounce your role as an officer. Do so, and you might not end up as one of these. Judging by how they look, I'm sure it doesn't feel too good."
CRACK!
The final orb, which had been steadily growing in Dale's grasp, suddenly detonated, but not like the others.
Its streams burst outward and coiled around him.
"Oh? So you're going to use it on yourself? That's a reckless plan, especially since it's for naught either way."
She raised her palm toward him.
"Still, I want to know why so many of you choose this route. There is nothing to gain from this choice besides the misery that follows."
"I… will go beyond you!"
"That's quite sudden. To declare you will surpass me in a moment such as this? It would seem you have gone mad."
The streams grew feral, pooling and thickening as they surged.
Then, in the next instant, he launched himself forward.
At breakneck speed, the streams drove his body through the air, obliterating even the ground beneath him as he advanced.
Yet all it took was a single touch for her to end the assault entirely, leaving behind a battlefield that was quiet, fractured, and still.
She retrieved the marble and regarded it with thinly veiled disdain, but something about the image trapped within stirred her irritation.
He was gone.
…
Dale ran toward the building at the center of the colony with what little energy he could summon. His escape had been nothing short of miraculous.
The last declaration he had uttered was simply another route onto the playing field.
His intent had truly been to move past her, yet her misinterpretation of his words had become an unforeseen stroke of fortune.
When his final attack reached its apex, he managed to trigger an exchange that would exhaust every scrap of authority he possessed, in exchange for a fleeting moment in which the speed of his streams would surpass her perception.
She had spoken the truth, she was not a true combatant. That gave him a major advantage, a chance to escape her perception with just a slight surge.
Still, his escape was a beneficial turn of events, because he deemed it critical to deliver the information he had just acquired to the lieutenant before anything else.
A small detail that the woman had inadvertently revealed held the power to shake not only the 56th but potentially all of VEIL. Even if he were to be bedridden or dead, he had to deliver it to Alicia.
Suddenly, a single misstep pitched his weight forward, sending him sprawling.
Yet he fell into the soft embrace of a woman.
"You are burdened."
She was a strange woman who wore a black dress that shimmered like the night sky.
"You are not free. You cannot be free while clinging to such burdens."
Her words soothed his mind in a manner he could not comprehend.
"Do not worry any longer. You may rest now."
Rest? I can… rest?
"Rest… and free yourself."
Yeah… I am so tired. Maybe, just a little.
His eyes closed, and in her arms, his body crumbled, drifting slowly into the wind like dust in the air.
Dale was gone from the world.
The woman in black pressed a hand to her chest, rejoicing wholeheartedly for the soul she had saved.
"I would be livid if it weren't you, Sweet Root." Cydra emerged from behind her. "I've told you repeatedly, VEIL officers are my prey."
"Did you see it? He was filled with such joy. He smiled so peacefully. Was it not beautiful?"
Cydra could only sigh as her words fell unheard.
"Perhaps… perhaps one day, this butterfly may embark on such a journey as well."