Moira's Reunion

Moira's impatience was well known among her troops, but discipline and years of experience had taught her to hold back her most impulsive comments and actions. She had to honor and preserve the legacy of Wardens as skilled, intelligent, patient, indomitable pillars of reliability. However, as Moira witnessed her three makeshift allies struggling to disable the enchantments on the doors to the school gym, she was starting to lose that patience.

"This door was specifically reinforced with several layers of spells from multiple sources. Even my ability to sense John's aura is being muffled. These are serious, intense enchantments designed to delay or halt any intrusion… they're stronger than those that were placed at the actual entrances."

"It's intentional. They were planning on separating us from John from the very beginning," Vallya said, eyes narrowed as her hands ran across one of the doors. "That bastard didn't fall back because John's **** overwhelmed him, he fell back to lure John away. He probably knew exactly what effect Seras' **** would-"

"Enough about that, get these fuckin' doors open!"

Though her words were a bit crass, Moira was starting to agree more and more with the rabbit-woman as she pounded her fists, elbows, knees, and feet against the seemingly impenetrable enchanted wood of the gymnasium doors. A fact that was not made more reassuring considering that Moira essentially had to pry Lerianna away from the dead Albidian with the shield and axe so that she would stop pummeling his brutalized corpse. There were many issues that likely needed to be addressed with her mental state… but that was John's job.

All the more reason for Moira to make sure that he made it home safely. And she couldn't do that on the other side of a blasted door!

"Out of my way," Moira shouted, loudly banging her hammer against her shield. A resounding metallic clank echoed across the room accompanied by a flash of light, emanating from her shield and directly into the full mass of her hammer.

"The Lady strikes down the wicked!"

Layla and Vallya saw Moira coming and moved out of the way as they noticed the look on her face. Moira's hammer glistened as she brought it down against the door, scattering wood splinters and sparks of golden light as she struck time and time again, slowly wearing down both the door and the enchantments around it. She suspected Layla and Vallya were still assisting her from a distance, because by the time her hammer had made the first hole in the door, the enchantments fell away entirely - her next strike not only knocked the door free, but sent it scattering several feet into the gym. The screeching of its travel was annoying… but almost better than the noise that replaced it.

The screaming.

Moira half-sprinted into the gym when she first heard the screams, her reflexes kicking in and driving her toward the source of the sound. But only a half-dozen paces inside, she realized the voice was not John's. She took another few steps while bringing herself to a stop, and she quickly realized he was in fact the cause. Moira glanced ahead an looked on with shock at what she saw.

[[[Warning: The following scene contains a brief description of mild-moderate body horror and ****. The most visceral section below has been separated via lines to indicate it for those who wish to skip the worst of it.]]]

The Albidian leader was propped up on the lowest row of seats in the bleachers… propped, because his arms and legs had been removed. Instead of gore and splatter, Moira saw only clean cuts. In fact, in the stump of an arm that faced her, Moira was horrified to note that blood still appeared to be pumping through the arteries, though where it was going she could not tell. His limbs were lying haphazardly on the floor several feet away… and where Moira had been horrified at the body, she was slightly nauseated by the fact that those limbs were still twitching. Whatever had separated them, they seemed to function as if they were still perfectly attached.

John had his hand placed upon the man's forehead, and though Moira could not know the spell being used, she was certain that was the cause of the screaming. A knot in her stomach arose that momentarily confused Moira. Moira had seen the Inquisitors’ work before; she was used to the screams, even a certain amount of mutilation. She had learned of the Inquisitors' work early, and **** herself to stomach it. A Warden could not righteously condemn men to **** and interrogation if she was not even comfortable witnessing such acts.

No, it wasn't the brutality of it that truly bothered her, Moira realized. It was seeing John like that. Bloodthirsty, violent... unforgiving.

"John… you did it. You defeated their leader... it's over."

"His name was Joaquin. Joaquin Malquiar," John called out softly, his eyes never leaving his prey. Moira could barely hear him over the man's constant shouting.

"Alright… that's good. We can learn more about them from this base and from his name, try to figure out how this organization is formed, what's left of it. We'll make this right."

"Make this right?!"

John's voice was no longer quiet - but it was still almost drowned out. John's face grew cold and hard at Moira's words, his fingers digging into Joaquin's forehead, and the man's screams grew even more intense. Was this really the same spell that John had used back in the cell, or a different one? Was it stronger… or did John just have that much hate left in him?

"Nothing can make this right, Moira," John said, quiet once more.

"I know, John. And I know you're hurting… but this won't bring her back. **** won't make you feel better."

"You think this is about ****?!"

John sounded angry, and not only at Joaquin, as he pulled his hand back and drew the blade Kim had ordered forged for him from his inventory. In a single swing Joaquin's head tumbled from his shoulders, and before it had touched the floor, John was pointing the blade at Moira. The golden wings upon his back flared menacingly.

"This isn't about fucking ****. This is about being able to sleep at night."

"You're safe now, John. You don't need to-"

Moira was halfway to taking a step forward when, to her surprise, Vallya actually stopped her. The fox-woman placed one hand in front of Moira's abdomen, gently, her vertically-slit pupils locked on John. She strode forward slowly toward John. He glanced at her, reached out to her with one hand, dismissing the blade that he had been holding to grasp her fingers lightly, lovingly. Lerianna followed suit hesitantly. She was shaking, eyes tearing up, wobbly legs almost to the point of instability by the time John reached out and laced the fingers of his free hand with her own.

"I don't care if I'm safe," John spat when his eyes eventually returned to Moira. "I don't care what happens to me. This is about believing for one goddamn second that the universe is balanced. That it's fair. That good things happen to good people, and that terrible things come upon those who deserve it. This is about not lying awake at night, wondering what cruel goddess would allow such corruption to go unpunished, because I took it upon myself to dole out that retribution. What the fuck did you think I was going to do, let him rot in a cell, face some merciful execution? You believe in the Lady, in Gaia - but what kind of goddess do you believe in that allows these kinds of things to happen?!"

Moira wanted to argue with John's blasphemy, but he offered her no chance to respond.

"I wanted him to suffer… not because it will put any kind of closure on this mess. Not because it will make me feel any better, and sure as fuck not because I think it will bring Seras back. It's because it's what he deserved. I'm tired of the high road. I'm tired of slapping people on the wrist. There's no chance an organization like this doesn't have surveillance, some way to monitor other locations. I bet they’ve been observing this entire fight, since we first left that cell. I hope you fuckers can hear me, I hope you watched what I did to your leader… because I'm coming for you next."

"John, we'll crush them, I promise. But we can't-"

"We can't, no. But I can. You were right, Moira."

"About what?" Moira asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"This world, this Abyss… it's a cursed world. Corrupted beyond comprehension, tainted beyond understanding. But we made one small part of it right today. And the rest…"

John's eyes sparked once more. The strange golden light that had been ever-present since his discovery of Seras' body exploded with light, and then faded, returning John's eyes to their normal color.

"I'm going to root it all out. Every corrupted organization, every heartless bastard, every single source of chaos, discord, and ****. I will be the karmic justice that this universe can't deliver. I will make the world right - I will ensure the righteous prosper, the good-hearted flourish, and the wicked are struck down and suffer for every step they have fallen. The Abyss is tainted... and I'm going to root out every source of it. I'm going to burn it all Moira. Burn it all right to the fucking ground."

John scarcely finished those words before he disappeared, taking Lerianna and Vallya with him, leaving Moira standing in the decimated gymnasium with Layla and a corpse that had only just begun to bleed properly. Layla let out a startled noise and reached out, as if to catch the boy who was already gone. Moira just stood there silently, contemplating what she had just witnessed. Her emotions spiraled in a wave of grief, guilt, anger, and bitterness… and, below it all, buried beneath not only those emotions but an intentional denial, there was something worse.

Loneliness. The kind Moira hadn't felt since she stumbled upon a newborn mage in the halls of Ashcroft Academy, what now felt like years ago. Moira had remained stoic in the face of ****, ****, pain, and ****. But as she considered for the first time that John Newman had vanished, and this time he might not reappear to her... Moira allowed the tears welling in her eyes to fall.