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[Ghst] Chapter 58: Grand Ritual
🕑 Added 2025-08-10 13:15:01 +0000 UTCWhen Evantra emerged out onto the main floors of the Spirit of Nimue, she found them deserted. The personnel that she would ordinarily have seen going about their duties, occupying the various rooms of the ship, were nowhere to be seen. The hallways were empty, and the air was eerily stagnant and still.
Elaine must not want any of the staff to catch on or interfere.
They must be relegated to the living quarters or…
No.
Evantra’s thoughts returned to Elaine Hallewell’s brief speech at the celebratory dinner and the wording she had used when she addressed the ship’s staff.
Elaine thanked them for their sacrifice.
She plans to kill them as well. A convenient means of getting rid of all witnesses but the ones she trusts and washing her hands of it.
Caliburn treats it as a freak accident. Cover it up as an earthquake that led to a widespread collapse of a slum town built on poor foundations.
I need to hurry.
Evantra dashed through the third level of the Spirit of Nimue. Healed as she was, she found herself easily winded from the exertion. Evantra’s eyes burned as she pushed on, ignoring the lactic acid that scorched its way through her muscles, tempting her with the comfort of rest. She was running on pure adrenaline, and she had never been more grateful for Guinevere’s cardiovascular training as she sprinted past the vast, angled, horizontal barge window that displayed the sprawling vista of Wisptown.
Evantra skidded around the corner, eyes darting towards the armsmaster’s usual seat behind a desk just outside of the locked vault door.
Empty.
Evantra extracted the keycard that Clark had passed her, waving it over the sensor. She watched as the lights flicked to green with a beep, and she heard the multiple lock mechanisms of the armour door unlatch. She instantly clasped the sizeable handle, pushing it down with her body weight and forcing the door open.
I need something capable of piercing her subdermals.
A sniper rifle is my best bet.
“Who can I…”
Recovering from her exertion, Evantra took deep breaths to fight down her panic, before snapping a photo of the wall of sniper rifles in front of her. Each was placed on horizontal stands jutting out of the wall, and there were far more than she recognised. They varied in size, build, fire type and rate, and utilised different ammunition. Evantra bit her lip as she sent the photo to her intended recipient.
If she doesn’t repl—
She felt Clark’s phone buzz in her hands as the message came through almost instantly.
Liberty Pathfinder.
Armour Piercing rounds – 7.62x51mm. There are others, but they might be too heavy for you. I think you should be able to carry it if you’re not handling any other guns.
Dad told me. He’s helping evacuate the town. Mummy and I are leaving Wisptown.
You still owe me money.
Be careful, dumbo.
Evantra felt her hand begin to tremble as she read Tai’s message.
Trevor’s face flashed in her mind, and Evantra slapped herself, the impact echoing through the room. She winced at the burn on her cheek, but her eyes hardened. Her cheek began to warm and prickle as blood began to flow towards the site of her self-inflicted blow.
“No. There’s time for guilt later. Focus, Evantra.”
Evantra’s fingers flew in a blur across the surface of the phone Clark had given her, searching for the model that Tai had stipulated. Her eyes fixed on the corresponding gun on the wall, and she lifted it from its position. It was far heavier than her Izanami Veilseeker, but that only instilled further confidence in the weapon. Next, she ran to the ammunition bay, swiping Clark’s card once more to gain access, before taking two magazines of armour-piercing rounds.
Grenades… If there are any explosives, I could try to destroy the ritual itself.
Even if Elaine can recreate it, it will buy them time.
Evantra scrambled, opening every drawer that she could see in the vicinity. She cursed when she was unable to find the explosives that would bring her contingency to fruition. It could be that they were kept elsewhere on the ship, somewhere more secure than where the other ammunition was.
I can’t waste any more time; they might be activating it at any moment now. I’ll just have to target the catalyst instead, if I can manage it.
Loading the magazine in place, Evantra headed for the multipurpose hall.
***
Upon making her way to the third floor, to the gallery entrance. The multipurpose hall spanned two floors, and sported a small gallery which allowed an audience to gather to watch or observe performances or events occurring below. Evantra waved Clark’s keycard over the scanner. It flashed green before emitting a soft beep.
Elaine, Guinevere and Lancelot may not be able to see me, but Galahad still can – he doesn’t have optics.
Crouching down, the bulky weapon in hand, Evantra softly pushed open the door and entered the gallery in a crouch. It was a narrow fixture that ran the length of the room situated against the back wall. As she expected, it was entirely deserted. Evantra heard voices echoing from below her, and she crept forwards, ensuring that she was crouched and out of view from the ground floor. She came to a halt at the edge of the gallery, softly hefting her sniper rifle.
“Elaine, what is the meaning of this?”
“Apologies, my lady. He pushed past me.”
Evantra heard Clark enter the hall, who seemed to have brushed past Galahad, who had stalled his entry. She could hear the vitriol in his words, and it sent a chill down her spine to hear the typically bubbly and unassuming man speak in such a manner.
“End this madness, this instant.”
Evantra began to crawl to the extreme right of the gallery, which would allow her to peer downwards at an angle while keeping herself obscured by the railing. It would also give her a direct line of sight with her rifle. Taking care not to jostle her equipment, she gently placed her sniper rifle on the ground before peeking over the railing.
What she saw made her breath catch.
Where the blood ritual in the laboratory had been intricate, the ritual she glimpsed maintained the level of intricacy that had been on display, but far surpassed it in sheer size. Evantra saw almost every inch of the multipurpose hall’s wooden flooring covered in intricate swirls and patterns comprising one, unified ritual diagram. At the very centre of the room was a large circle that connected the patterns extending outwards from it.
It was empty.
Standing off to the side, closest to the entry, were Elaine and the Ghostslayers. Lancelot, Galahad and Guinevere’s faces were impassive as the siblings squared off against one another. Fortunately for her, Galahad had his back to her, which meant she could take a greater degree of risk in observing their conversation.
“Clark. Caliburn has been languishing in mediocrity. We watch helpless as other corporations eclipse us with their discoveries and endeavours. Are you so naïve to think that our rise has been bloodless?”
“This is madness. Uncle would never agree—”
“Uncle is the one who gave me his blessing, you twat. The elites have found the ways and means to access the Mythic Veilsurges, and they reap the rewards for the blood they have spilt. We stagnate because we have been so chained to ideals such as honour. But with dear grandfather’s passing, our mediocrity ends, and we will join them with this ritual. Would you have us languish in obscurity until we are wiped out, Clark?”
“Elaine… you don’t mean to say—”
“Uncle has found us a means of securing a foothold in Avalon. He tipped me off to the appearance of a significant relic and provided us with the means to locate it. If we succeed in this, Clark, we won’t be relegated to the sidelines because of dear mother and father’s inaction.”
Evantra’s eyes widened as she heard the words.
Corporations… making their way into the Mythic realms? I thought the Mythic Veilsurges were inaccessible, except when they appear on Earth. They’re using a ritual to make it appear at will?
“Even so, Elaine. There must be another way. You propose to sacrifice thousands of lives—”
Evantra watched as Elaine stiffened.
“Who told you?”
Evantra felt a visceral chill run down her spine as Elaine’s quiet words reached her, like the edge of a dagger of frost brushing past her throat.
“Elaine… if you want to gain our uncle’s favour, this isn’t the way to go about it. Mother and fath—”
The gunshot rang out.
Evantra watched as smoke trailed upwards from the muzzle of Steve’s light machine gun, pointed towards the back of Clark’s head.
Galahad looked down at the man’s body, his expression impassive. Quicker than she could react, the Ghostslayer had imperceptibly altered the trajectory of the machine gun held so casually in his hands, before letting the round loose. Evantra heard a soft thud as Clark’s body collapsed to the ground.
Clark Hallewell lay motionless.
Galahad stared down at the man’s unmoving body with cold eyes. Their banter and friendly camaraderie that transcended the strict bounds of professionalism, their friendship, rendered meaningless with a single second and bullet.
No.
Clark.
“Galahad. Dispose of his body. We will begin the ritual soo—”
“My lady!”
One of Caliburn’s attendants burst into the hall, the man ignoring Clark Hallewell’s dead body that lay still at his feet. Evantra could see a sheen of sweat across the man’s forehead as he clutched a tablet tightly in his hands.
“We have detected interferences in our explosives array beneath the town. The explosives in the areas of highest population density have been deactivated. We detected crawler bots – robotics native to the junkyards – which have emitted EMP pulses destroying the receivers. We will have to replace—”
“Sweep the junkyard now, find the ones responsible. Replace the explosives. Give me an ETA on their substitution.”
Lancelot grabbed the tablet in the attendant’s hands, giving the screen a brief review before turning back to Elaine.
“15 minutes, my lady. Operatives are stationed in the Junkyard. At your word.”
No.
“Do it.”
Evantra could feel her anger welling in side of her. Building like the waves of a roiling ocean in a thunderstorm, threatening to burgeon and overwhelm her. Evantra let out a small, soft breath as she let her anger go, the uncontrolled rage in her veins turning as cold as ice.
I do not have the liberty of it.
Focus.
She crouched down. Her fingers flashed across the dim phone screen, and she sent the text.
Cypha, they’re after you. Get out now.
Evantra raised her head and saw Elaine staring straight at her. She felt her heart thundering in her chest, the product of a foul mixture of anger and adrenaline intermingling in her veins. She watched Elaine’s eyes slowly drift across the rest of the gallery, carefully scanning it for onlookers. The executive turned to the attendant.
Evantra reached for her weapon. She cast her gaze to the centre of the ritual and gritted her teeth at the absence of a catalyst that she could target.
“Clark must have learned about it from the girl. Check her cell, ensur—”
Kill Elaine, then Galahad, the only Ghostslayer who can put eyes on me.
Flee Lancelot, take him unawares.
Guinevere—
If I can keep them busy enough, I can buy Cypha and Minh enough time to deactivate the explosives and to get everyone out.
“My lady, we have also intercepted some men attempting to organise evacuation efforts throughout the city. Some of them have made it to the blockade and are attempting to free the prisoners. Our forces there are attempting to hold back their push from the city—”
Evantra gently adjusted her sniper rifle, even as her hands trembled, fingernails digging into her palms as she lined up her shot, angling it towards Elaine’s skull. Her hearing was dull, and she was greeted with a soft, high-pitched tone in her ears as Evantra resisted the urge to scream.
Evantra sighted Elaine Hallewell’s head in her scope, and she was greeted with an unparalleled view of her features as they contorted, darkening in response to the attendant’s words. The woman’s mouth turned downwards into a scowl, but not to the extent that she was genuinely enraged, no.
It was a mild annoyance to her.
“Upon detonation, kill those imprisoned at the blockade. They’re within range of the ritual, but the deaths must occur at the same time to fuel it. Once all the explosives have been replaced, detonate immediately.”
Evantra stared through her scope, watching as her aim was disrupted by the trembling in her arms.
Noelle was right.
It truly is the best skill for me.
[Stonerooted]
The sniper rifle froze, deathly still, along with her tremors.
Evantra pulled the trigger.
The gunshot shattered the silence of the hall, like someone had unleashed lightning in the midst of a closed room. Evantra watched as the bullet impacted Elaine Hallwell’s skull.
She watched as the 51mm round was flattened against her forehead, leaving only light scuffing in its wake.
Stopped dead in its tracks.
Evantra didn’t waste a second, instantly switching targets. Sighting Galahad opposite her, Evantra pulled the trigger again. The shot rang out, but the gargantuan Ghostslayer was already leaping out of the way, having identified the source of the gunshot. He raised his light machine gun in her direction and unleashed a hail of gunfire that ripped through the balustrade with ease.
“No! I want her alive,” Elaine shouted from below.
Evantra retreated away from the edge of the gallery as she watched Galahad’s rain of bullets cease eating away at her cover at Elaine’s command. Before she could formulate a plan, she watched a hand latch onto the size of the balustrade, watching as Lancelot effortlessly vaulted into the gallery, heaving leapt upwards by an entire floor.
Evantra stood rooted to the spot as she watched Lancelot scan the gallery, in search of the slightest indication of her presence. [Ritual of concealment] was still keeping her concealed from his vision. Evantra lifted her sniper, but before she could get a round off, Lancelot seemed to anticipate her strategy and broke free from his position, moving rapidly down the gallery aisle.
The Ghostslayer opened fire, gun pointed towards the air.
“Come out, Evantra.”
Shit—
A voice echoed out from below, cutting her thoughts short.
“My lady, Archdemon inbound!”
Evantra watched as Lancelot’s body locked up, his gaze snapping towards the source of the words.
She watched the veteran Ghostslayer’s eyes widen.
“Which one. WHICH ONE.”
For the first time that day, Evantra heard true fear in Elaine Hallwell’s voice.
Comments
UnderwhelmingBird
Damn not even an "oof" from whiplash? And the force perfectly distributed in a way that doesn't churn the brain like butter through the concussive shock? Who needs plot armor when your forehead is strong enough to tank a shot like that. Also, armor-piercing round wouldn't simply flatten, it'd flatten before shattering as the much more brittle steel core gets told to fuck off....but I mean there's a time for nerding out and that's clearly not now. Ya know, when the corpo lady takes a gunshot like someone would a drop of rain. Normal rain, not the spooky ecto-stuff you've got going on in this world. RIP Clark, died like a dog but to be fair Eva *did* say he seemed like a golden retriever or something thereabouts. Time to meet our newest Archdemon maybe-pal! They can bond over things like anti-corporate sentiment, maybe? Or maybe specifically anti-Caliburn sentiment, should they be in a demonic corporation. That sounds very hella, hellish even.
Metal(Liz)ard🏳️⚧️
Damn her implants are insane to just eat that like nothing
