Throwing the gateway off him, Rampardner stood up and squared his shoulders. “I don’t know who y’are kid, and I don’t rightly care, but you picked the wrong bandits to mess with.” Slamming his fists together, he swiped his menu as a massive lance shimmered into being in his hand. Almost twice as tall as Walter stood, the barbed metal weapon sloped gracefully into a wide hilt, which the Hoplomachus’ armoured gauntlet slotted into perfectly. Swinging the giant weapon with surprising ease, Rampardner began striding towards Walter, slowly but purposefully.
“Geez, I barely survived that one,” the puddle next to Rampardner complained, as it materialized back into Deep6. Cradling a broken arm and limping a little, she chanted something unintelligible as a sling made of pure water formed for her damaged limb.
“Good to see you didn’t croak yet.” Ifrit groaned, snapping his spine back into place and getting up off of the fallen gate.
“Speak for yourself, you senile old coot.” Deep6 grinned, as a pair of water javelins formed at her side. “Dying’s practically a habit of yours.”
“Just getting in plenty of practice before I kick the bucket for real.” Ifrit grinned, cracking his neck experimentally. “So, what say we show them how Cutpurses fight?”
“Hey, when’s your suit gonna activate?” Charles asked Walter, peeking out from behind the outer wall.
“Don’t asked me, I’ve never done this before!” Walter called back, a hint of panic edging into his voice as Rampardner drew closer. “Maybe I should run…”
A loud metallic double *KA-CHUNK* sounded, as the hydraulic pistons on Walter’s thighs extended, driving a pair of piledrivers into the stones beneath his feet, anchoring him steady.
“On second thought, it looks like I’m not going anywhere.” Walter laughed nervously, dropping into a half-squat, half-sit and hiding behind his leg armour as he aimed his magnum.
“Got your back.” Walter barely heard somebody’s voice breeze past him.
“Hey, did you just see something…?” Deep6 ventured.
“Too late,” a voice whispered in her ear, as a wrist blade stabbed through her back.
Kicking the gasping player off his blade, Jason retracted the weapon, slipping his hand into a pouch on his belt as he leaped towards Rampardner’s unprotected back. “GUTSPILLER,” he intoned as he slapped a matchbox-sized metal rectangle onto the man's armour. Jason waited for the telltale sizzle as the box grafted itself to the metal plating, then dashed away before Rampardner could even turn around.
“Of all the… Ifrit, trounce that varmint!” Rampardner bellowed, swiping in vain at the agile Assassin. “And somebody call Sicklesoul!”
“The Sandman already messaged her,” Ifrit called back, dodging a thrust from Jason and adopting a defensive stance as he swayed lightly on the balls of his feet. “You take out the pesky kid in the gateway, I’ll handle this one.”
“Aren’t you a little past your prime, old man?” Jason shot cockily, weaving from side to side, before darting forward in a burst of speed, a dagger in each hand.
“I like to think of myself as well-seasoned,” Ifrit returned mildly, knocking one blade out of Jason’s hand with a swift karate chop, and catching his other fist with his off hand, following with a sweeping kick that knocked Jason off balance.
“I think it’s about time I retired you,” Jason shot, springing back to his feet and launching off his second dagger.
“I can hardly retire if you’re the best they’ve got to replace my generation.” Ifrit shrugged good naturedly, catching the dagger between two fingers. “Want to see a magic trick?”
“The one where someone saws you in half?” Jason retorted.
“Less flashy,” Ifrit admitted. Holding the dagger in one hand, he waved his other hand in front of it, as the dagger vanished. Flapping his sleeveless arms dramatically, Ifrit held his palms out. “Now where did it go?”
“Let me guess, your ear?” Jason smirked.
“Close enough.” Ifrit grinned, pulling the dagger out of his bushy beard.
“If this wasn’t a video game, I might’ve been impressed.” Jason sighed. “But I’m grateful. Thanks to you, I had enough time to change my equipment.” He drew his double-bladed swordstaff in response. “You’re going down, old man.”
“Actually, I must thank you for indulging the whims of this old fart.” Ifrit bowed respectfully. “You gave my friend enough time to lock onto you.”
Jason glanced around in alarm, noticing for the first time the red dot trained on his chest.
“Hell!” he spat, leaping back as a lance of flame seared his chest. Looking up, he noticed a pair of players on the battlement corners, one armed with a recurve bow, the other with an oddly shaped wand. Noting the red dot moving wherever the wand-holder pointed, Jason identified his target immediately. “CLOAK OF THE NIGHT!” he muttered, as he vanished from sight.
“Oh heck, where’d he go now?” The player with the bow scratched his head distractedly.
“You leave him to AWPerator, Frozen,” Ifrit returned. "Keep watching the outer walls, we don’t know how many we’re up against yet.”
“Roger!” Frozen_Beef replied, saluting awkwardly and heading back to his corner.
“Deal with this,” Jason thought to himself, edging across the cobblestones towards the steps to the battlement. He was tempted to stab at Ifrit’s unprotected back along the way, but he remembered Isaac’s warning that he couldn’t deal damage until the invisibility had worn off. Plus, the sniping mage was his main target.
“BRIMSTONE!” AWPerator called out from the battlements, as a half-dozen miniature burning meteorites formed in a circle around his outstretched wand, then shot into the sky.
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Jason thought. “You’re not even aiming the right…” His eyes widened as the burning rocks inexplicably veered off their course and flew straight towards him at a blinding speed.
Dropping to the ground, Jason rolled to the side and got up again as the first three rocks flew right into the stairs he had been heading towards. Behind him, two more rocks smashed against where he had ducked, but before he could start running again, the sixth clipped his foot, setting fire to the hem of his pants.
Cursing, Jason flailed at the fire, now fully visible in the middle of the courtyard.
“Nice try, young Assassin,” Ifrit called out from behind him, his tone even and reasonable. “AWPerator’s a Cabalist. As soon as he had a chance to tag you earlier, your fate was sealed. No matter where you run, until he tags someone else, all his magic will home in on your location, whether he can see you or not.
Grimacing as he tapped his singed foot experimentally, Jason turned to face the Cabalist on the battlements. Grinning victoriously, AWPerator raised his wand and began to cast another spell.
*******
Walter snapped off his first .500 bullet, the recoil nearly causing the massive revolver to fly from his hands. Not even coming close, the bullet whizzed over the advancing Hoplomachus’ head, without even slowing him.
“Shoulda picked a gun more yer size, kid.” Rampardner chuckled. “Maybe a Daisy BB gun.”
Walter gritted his teeth and aimed again, steadying the pistol against his leg armour. Squeezing the trigger, the blowback made his teeth rattle, but the bullet found Rampardner square in the chest, causing him to stumble back a pace, a hole in his plating.
“Okay, I felt that one,” he admitted, starting forward again. “Unfortunately fer you, a Hoplomachus has two layers of armour, with chain mail under the plating. My old mama’s hit me harder than that bullet a' yours did.”
“Try this one on for size!” Walter yelled out, aiming at the player’s head and firing.
With one swift movement, Rampardner brought his lance up, blocking the bullet, even as it took a chunk out of the weapon.
“Lookee there, another notch in the ol’ lance.” The player chuckled. “I guess that means I have to finish you off, or it’d be just plain lyin’.”
Only two bullets left, Walter thought to himself, looking at his five-shot chamber grimly. Time to try something new.
Aiming his revolver back at the Hoplomachus, he noted that the player was now regarding him a little more warily, his colossal lance at the ready. Training the barrel on the player’s head again, Walter waited patiently for the right moment.
Resuming his stride, Rampardner took another step forward, lance raised defensively.
Walter moved in an instant. Adjusting his aim to the player’s foot, he snapped off a quick shot, catching the Hoplomachus a split second before his foot reached the ground. As the bullet plowed deep into the thick plating, the impact caused the player to topple heavily to the ground, a cloud of dust rising where he fell.
Not missing a beat, Walter squeezed the trigger again, aiming at the fallen player’s head. However, his aim was off, and he only clipped the player’s left pauldron.
“I did it! I did it!” Walter exclaimed gleefully. “Now, where’d I put those bullets…”
“Oh, you done did it all right,” Rampardner grumbled, rising to his feet. “Y’ bought yerself another couple a' seconds in this world. Congratu-damn-lations.”
At that moment, Walter’s Inertia Core faded to a pure, crimson red. With a whirring click, Walter’s leg armour sprung open and began to unfurl and fold in on itself like origami paper, forming a quarter-circle wall in front of him, about the height of his knees. As the wall finished forming, the top split open, and a glittering orange field of energy spilled out, forming a completed dome around him and the surrounding area.
With a final click, a holster folded out of the wall in front of him. Cautiously, Walter dropped his empty revolver into the slot, pulling his hand back as it snapped shut. There was a ratcheting sound, then a loud whirring accompanied by five sharp metallic clunks, before the slot popped open again revealing his magnum, freshly loaded.
“Okay, now that’s pretty awesome.” Walter grinned, as he poked his gun through the flickering force field and snapped off another shot.
*******
It was hard to tell who was more surprised -- Jason, Ifrit, or AWPerator -- when a bullet streaked up from behind the battlements and caught AWPerator in the back of the head. Hitting the ground hard, he lay face-first and motionless.
Jason recovered faster. Before Ifrit could turn back around, he leapt forward, driving a dagger into the Fakir’s back and kicking the legs out from under him. Leaping backwards, he scrambled up the set of steps leading towards the northwest corner, as the northeast had been heavily damaged from AWPerator’s fireballs.
Reaching the top of the steps, Jason made to dash across the battlements and finish AWPerator off, when his leg suddenly collided with something soft, which let out a surprised squeak.
Tumbling head over heels, Jason looked over his shoulder in bewilderment at the empty patch of stone where he had tripped.
Or was it empty?
As he looked on, the air in front of him shimmered, revealing a young girl roughly in her early teens who looked equally as startled as him.
As she removed her pink and white headphones in alarm, Jason sized her up. She was dressed plainly, wearing only gray sweatpants, and a black hoodie with neon pink highlights. Her hair was tied back in a short bob, with only a few errant strands brushing her burgundy glasses.
Hastily mashing the pause button on her MP3 player, the girl glanced around the courtyard in alarm, her eyes finally drifting back to Jason.
“Are you… attacking us?” she asked in a quiet voice edged with disbelief.
“You’d better believe it,” Jason shot back, flipping his swordstaff out of its sheath and charging her, leading the movement with a swift downward slash from his right blade.
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