Bacon Macleod
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B4 Chapter 501: Ashen City, pt. 1
🕑 Added 2026-01-26 21:33:18 +0000 UTCAs the searing heat of Ianmus’s spell faded, Kaius looked down at the corpse of the nightscale as he sucked in heaving breaths.
Ianmus’s voice sounded in his ear.
“Forsaken hells, at least it's dead. We’ll leave you to it — it’s a madhouse up here.”
“Thanks for the help,” he replied, still watching the dead beast.
It hadn’t been his most dangerous fight, not by far, but it had been strenuous and stressful all the same. Fighting without his spells had been…frustrating, and the absence of his backline had only highlighted the advantage of having powerful allies to support him at range.
With time, he knew that they could have worn the beast down — they’d been hurting it more than it had hurt them. He was no stranger to battles of attrition. In their most recent delve, almost all of the Champions and Guardians they’d fought had been taken down in such a manner.
They hadn't been able to afford it. There were a thousand other battles he needed to take part in.
Fires raged through the city. They threw off a flickering light that twisted and warped through smoke and dust, blanketing the city in a smouldering miasma. Mixed with the roars of beasts, and the distant cries of injured warriors, it was a hellish scene.
Like he’d been transported into some twisted nightmare.
Kaius looked up, seeing the turbulent cloud of flying beasts cutting through the night. Every few moments, there was a flash of light. Skills creating temporary beacons in the sky.
Just as many of them came from the beasts themselves as the bombardment of his fellow defenders.
Kaius grit his teeth. He had to get back to the walls.
Yet before he could look away, the cloud of creatures surged. It was sudden; cohesive. An unnatural unity as they took flight to the east. Away from the city — back whence they had come.
The constant hammering he heard from the walls stopped in the same moment, leaving a bare few pained growls, and the distant sound of isolated battles within the city walls.
“What’s happening?” Kaius hissed.
“Looks like a retreat to me.”
“But why?”
It made no sense. The Tyrant’s horde was enormous. Even well defended within the walls, they were being pressed. If it kept the pressure up, they would inevitably be worn down as their forces grew fatigued and Resources dwindled.
“Gods only know,” Rieker replied, “It could be we dealt a blow by killing the nightscale — perhaps this entire push was merely a front to strike for our centre. Nor was it the only high Silver that struck. There were even a couple golds. Ro and Arc were dealing with one to the south, and I took one down with the help of Dros and the earth mages north of here. Regardless, we can't celebrate yet — wait for the bells.”
“We should head to the eastern gate then, the fighting was thickest there. They might need our help.”
Rieker nodded.
As a group, they set off. Cutting through the square, and running through the city streets, Kaius’s mind raced.
Every block they travelled, he heard less and less ongoing fights — everything pointed to the army pulling back. Could they really have struck a heavy enough blow that the Tyrant was reconsidering its approach.
It felt wrong. Everything he’d seen of the creature spoke of wanton violence. Intelligent, yes — but wanton and cruel. It could have just ground them down — better than letting them rest after their surviving defenders had likely gained levels and strength.
A sudden thought drew a frown on Kaius’s face. Could it have been giving them a reprieve on purpose? The system itself had spawned Tyrants as part of the next stage of the integration. From the mouths of Ascendants themselves, he knew that a major purpose of the integration was to force growth.
That growth came with a bloody toll, but it was the system's goal. No one, not even people like him and his team could stand up to an entire army. The Tyrant was a challenge, one he was certain was directed at people like him. Hells, it sounded like it had almost let Bronwyn and his team go before it had sensed some trace of essence on them.
Could this entire invasion merely have been a prelude? A filter, to bloody the nose of Deadacre, and feed its warriors if they proved themselves stalwart enough to withstand its advance?
A reminder to all that they needed to struggle to survive?
Mulling over his thoughts, a churn set into his belly. It felt needless. A cruelty that extended beyond the Tyrant itself to the machinations of the System. How could the gathering and growth of Ascendant’s be so vital that it would kill uncounted simply to squeeze out a few more?
The Depths and even the Crucibles were lethal, sure, but they were just there. You sought them out, because you hungered for something — wealth, strength, a fight: something you held dearly enough to risk your life for.
Even the world, for all it was full of dangers, was a natural thing. The system might have empowered beasts, but they were alive. Things of natural wants, instincts, and desires. Brutal, but not cruel.
The Tyrant was Death, and it sought to spread its gifts.
It felt blasphemous to question the highest power he knew, but what else could he do after all he had seen in the last few days?
Kaius clenched his jaw, focusing on his steps as the streets slid by. Far to his left, he saw the defenders on the wall slowly move — some moving to the stairs down, aiding the wounded. Far, far too many of those being carried were too still. Too limp. A bloody toll indeed.
He had to be wrong — there had to be some reason. Some desperate need for Ascendants, or some unavoidable reality of wider existence that it was trying to prepare them for. It was the system: unassailable in both its influence and its impartiality.
Bells tolled, each tone ringing long and mournful from deep within the city. They came from the central temple to the gods. Normally they rang like that in celebration. He supposed in a sense that it was — it was their signal that the beasts were pulling back in truth. Somehow, it didn’t feel like a victory.
A simple reprieve, nothing more.
Rieker looked towards the city centre, “So they’ve truly left. Come, we should rejoin the others. We need to take this opportunity to restore out strength as much as possible — who knows how long this will last.”
“We’ll be ready.”
“I think we should be prepared to face the Tyrant,” Kaius replied grimly. “Some sort of challenge, just like it offered Bronwyn and his team.”
“Aye, I thought of that,” Rieker said with a clipped nod, “All the more reason to rest. Regardless, even if that happens, there will be more to the battle.”
Kaius gave him a sharp look. Surely if they bested the Tyrant, the matter would be done with.
“The beast’s, boy. What do you think will happen when its control slips, and thousands of beasts find themselves surrounded by natural predators and dire rivals? When Silver, or even Gold creatures find themselves displaced from their territories, and try to set secure hunting grounds around Deadacre? We’ll be dealing with the effects of this madness for a while yet, no matter what tomorrow brings.”
Kaius didn’t have a response for the man. Rieker’s words rested on him heavily.
Regardless, he hoped that the Tyrant would challenge him. The creature had wracked up a blood debt that he intended to collect. It had sown death, so he intended to let it reap it in kind.
The very thought of burying his blade in the belly of the creature scoured him from within, a hearty burn that outshone some of his tired frustration.
….
Devastation waited at the eastern gate. Rieker had already left them, hurrying on ahead to help direct their gathered forces — though not before insisting that they rest.
A heavy thought, given what lay around them.
The walls, once sturdy icons of Deadacre’s sovereignty, were battered. The great stone blocks were cracked, parapets had been torn free, and there was more than one chunk that had been wholesale destroyed on the wall's upper edge. There was only so much the defensive enchantments could do. They only helped distribute blows — not negate them. Plus, it wasn’t like Deadacre had some sort of rare masterwork protecting it. The enchantment had barely lasted an hour before burning out.
No doubt the runewrights he’d met were hard at work fixing it already.
Worse was the blood. Great, red streaks that ran down the defenses. Kaius could only desperately hope that most of it was from the Tyrant’s forces.
Rubble and flame littered the streets, the only reminders of shattered homes and crushed dreams. What buildings still stood were hollow skeletons, their walls and roofs collapsed inwards.
All he could smell was ash and iron.
Bodies were everywhere. Mostly beasts, thank the gods — but his eyes were too sharp to miss the twisted and still forms that lay scattered through the chaos. Surviving defenders picked through the wreckage, a sea of pale faces. Some had faces twisted by anger. Some embraced their fellows fighting against the madness with sudden joy for their continued life. Some wailed, collapsed over the torn bodies of friends.
Most looked hollow.
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade as his smouldering aspects pulsed.
“Gods’ scorn, I can’t wait to get my hands on that Tyrant.” Kaius said to Porkchop privately as his gaze lingered on a set of legs jutting out of a collapsed building. They were twisted. Broken, without sign of regeneration.
Porkchop grunted, frustration and anger clear through their bond. “This loss is senseless — the Dens quarrel, and territory disputes in the Sea can leave many broken in their wake… but not like this. Never like this.”
“Kaius! Porkchop!” A relieved yell cut across the milling crowds, yanking at his attention.
Kenva, relief on her face as she raced towards them with Ianmus hot on her heels.
She hit him like a bolt, slamming into his chest as she wrapped him in a hug. A heartbeat later, she threw herself at Porkchop — grabbing his chest and shoulder.
Porkchop let out a snort, bending down to put his head over her shoulder, “It’s good to see you too, Kenva.”
“You have no idea how horrible it was to just watch you fight that overgrown lizard. I felt useless.”
Ianmus slowed as he arrived. Walking over, he clapped Kaius on the shoulder and gave him a smile.
“It was rather unpleasant,” the mage said, agreeing with Kenva.
“Nonsense, we would have been fighting it for far longer without your help,” Kaius said, shaking his head. “Do you know where we can go to rest? Rieker was rather insistent.”
Kenva nodded, “Ro told us she’d commandeered an inn a little west of here — she wants us close, just in case.”
Kaius nodded, waving at her to show the way. They had much to prepare for, and he wasn’t enough of a fool to say his suspicions about the Tyrant in front of so many who’d just weathered its assault.
A/N: Started replaying Control recently, though I didn't get all that deep into it the first time. Forgot how much I love that specific subgenre of bureaucracy meets cosmic horror. I really need to read 'there is no antimemetics division' one of these days.
Comments
BelligerentGnu
Control is the shit. Antimemetics Division is great except the ending, which makes me want to violently hurt the story out a window. And I always appreciate system stories that engage with the reality of how fucked up systems really are. So many just shrug and say "meh, mass death and feudalism is just reality now."
DeadicatedReader
Tftc! to restore out strength -> to restore our strength
G&S Gaming
Tftc!
Thomas V.
Control is an amazing game, as are the other games from that developer. Ahti is one of my favourite characters in video games as a whole, period. Good stuff. And thanks for the chapter, it’s good to see Kaius questioning the goals and methods of the system like this. I’m looking forward to seeing where *that* goes in the long run, because I’ve been wondering about that since very, very early on. I guess giving as many people as possible a reason to get stronger is the idea here? If only those with intrinsic motivation go delve, most people won’t really bother. This gives people who wouldn’t fight just for themselves a reason to improve, to protect the lives of those they care about. Even so, I share Kaius’ misgivings.
Robert Gardner
TFTC
Yellowfrog
the laundry files are another good bureaucracy meets cosmic horror.
Talmor
TFTC
