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196 - Tarnished Silberblut [Cherno]
🕑 Added 2024-02-19 21:51:40 +0000 UTCOver and over again, Krahe shamelessly threw filthy, Isotope-laced smoke grenades, skimmed through walls, and simply rendered herself untouchable when the enemy’s numbers and knowledge of their home turf proved superior to her tactical planning.
The slaughter went on like this for several minutes.
There were survivors, ones who reached the ground level before she did. One was in shock, and couldn’t utter anything other than the words: “smoke”, “black armor”, “ghost”.
The other swore up and down that it had to be “Blackhand’s Big Brother”.
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Casus carried the boy a short distance from the underpass before setting him down. He understood that Blackhand wanted to prevent the child from witnessing the gruesome reality of things, and he was in agreement. Right afterwards, he pressed in the eye of his belt, initiating the transformation. His body was consumed by a surge of golden flame from the belt, a projection of its star-shaped pupil emerging, rising to Casus’ head-height. A silhouette wrought of silver flame followed with it, and the full phantom simply stepped back into his frame, silver flame momentarily overtaking gold, only to be consumed. In that instant all the light and flame vanished, leaving behind only his armored shape. Despite its increased complexity, the transformation only took moments; it was so quick it almost felt wrong, sped up, incomplete. That last part was true.
The Silberblut Coupler spoke, its tone resolute and melancholy at once: “Divine crusader, hero of justice, reforged in flame.”
This “Tarnished Silberblut” was not the new armor which Casus had manifested at the end of his training. Instead, it was born from the “Crusader of Black and Gold” boon as Heroic Subjugation’s effect on the Silberblut Armor in its base state, forcing the armor to better suit Casus’ own preferences instead of making Casus automatically adjust his fighting style. He found it to be somewhat more resilient and physically stronger, but a bit less agile; not for lack of agility or speed, but because of its increased bulk. He also found that the strain on his body was vastly reduced, as he was not undergoing excess change with each transformation to compensate for lack of compatibility.
He scooped up the child as if he weighed nothing, put him on his back, and took off running. Faster than his motorbike, he shot through the streets like a matte-black bullet, the child holding on for dear life.
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The sound of rapid, heavy footfalls approached the shrine. A dark silhouette sprinted through the entrance, golden light spilling from every crevice of the stranger’s form like flame from a ramshackle furnace. Lucia froze mid-turn as she beheld the tall man set a run-ragged child before her. He said something about keeping the boy safe and that he had been rescued from a human trafficker, but only the vague contents of his words and the tone of his voice registered to her in her shocked state.
At first, she had not recognized him, but… This was definitely him. The belt, the voice, the armor. All wrong in some way, yet all too familiar. In an agonizing few seconds, Lucia unthinkingly took the child into her arms as she took in the familiar mamon knight’s armor.
A single, stone eye stared down at her, an azure abyss overlaid by a four-spoked star of burning orange, and this self-same pattern now reigned within his belt’s eye.
The Silberblut Armor’s previously gleaming silver had tarnished to a matte-black shade, and the armor now bore significantly bulkier armor on the forelimbs. The golden crown upon his brow had grown substantially, forming horizontal, quarter-circular horns to either side alongside a third, dull-ended vertical horn, which ever so faintly resembled that of a stag beetle. Four peculiar motes of golden flame circled above his head.
In place of a closed vertical eye, his chest now bore two horizontal ones. To go with the eyes, the lower torso plates were shaped to imply the presence of a face’s lower half just below the surface.
The left gauntlet was even bulkier than the right, possessing an additional closed eye. His arm-blade was the largest change, being clearly attached to his arm as a separate weapon rather than seamlessly incorporated into the armor. It was the shape of a four-pointed star with one of the points “stretched out” to form the blade.
His aura of cold, steely imposition was gone, replaced by a numinous warmth spilling out of him like he was the sun. It was not physical heat; the shrine’s interior was as cold as it always was at night, and yet it was real all the same.
“Casus Aristedes? What happened to you? Need I report your state to the Inner Wheel?” she blurted out without thinking.
“There is no need. Safeguard the child… And perhaps prime the shrine guardian for tonight. I must go. Once tonight is over, you will know why.”
With that, he was gone, not a phantom, but a matte-black bullet leaving a trail of golden flame.
Some time later, after making sure the boy was uninjured and settling him in the back of the shrine, Lucia acted on Casus’ advice. Behind the shrine’s altar, a shape of gleaming metal sat, shrouded in a heavy robe, sitting on its pedestal in a relaxed pose with its head bowed too far for anyone to more than glimpse its face. It was a statue to all but the most well-read adherents, but to the shrine and others who knew, it was a far more immediate promise of safety than the Banishment Veil. It was also a far more immediate threat of violence to those who would foolishly think this small shrine was unguarded.
Lucia carried out a ritual of offering up sacrificial liquor, burning incense, and elaborate dancing whilst chanting a specific sutra. It was not a sutra from any scripture, but one written particularly for this idol, embedded within its body.
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