Moira’s Plea

John had taken the moment to admire his handiwork by the door and gave the now solidified magisteel a few knocks. A Knight’s charge answered his knock, but the door was otherwise unimpressed. Moira backed away from John as he circled back to her; he took a step, and she took a step back towards the machine draining her magic. The Knights outside continued to try and bang their way through the door for only a few more seconds, likely aware of how futile it had been; the door had been broken shut, not open, and now it would take industrial equipment or potent destruction magic to get through it. The only source friendly to her was upstairs, likely aiding the defenses as she had instructed; the other stood naked, defiant, and glaring at her with his glowing green left eye.

His rigid cock continued to threaten his intent. She just had to survive it. He took a step towards the Warden of the Shield-

“John… remember your promise?”

It was the only step he took for now. He paused as he contemplated her. She felt… a pressure in her mind, and she was sure he was trying to probe her thoughts anew. She batted it away with ease; even without mana, she was still a Warden proper. “I made that promise… to Moira Brighton. Not to you.”

“I am Moira Brighton, John,” she urged as she took another step away from him. Her arms flexed against the lump of magisteel that bound them together along with the magic-drinking plugs; the mass did not so much as groan, even with her newfound strength.

”I… want to believe that.” John’s expression fell as his Eye ceased its malignant glow. “I… kept holding on in there… thinking you’d put a stop to it. It… It was bizarre, hoping I’d be saved. It reminded me of how I was when I was growing up, feeling incapable of stopping Frank or helping my mom or… well. You didn’t, and that’s kind of-”

“I am going to stop it! Even now,” she urged, “even with what you’ve done today.”

“How… can I be sure? How do I know… this isn’t the fucking Lady talking, giving me words I want to hear?”

His every syllable was like grease in the air: rich, almost viscous, and disgusting. She thought she heard some other sound, a chime or a melody, but it faded as the room trembled. An explosion went off at the door… but without visible effect on their side. It was most likely a fragmentation grenade based on the sound; even plastic explosives would struggle with this barrier, however.

Another booming filled her mind: a call to action, a demand for vengeance against an unseen foe, an admonishment for her hesitation, and a decrying of mercy. O Lady, please… cease… The Lady never acknowledged John—perhaps she truly couldn’t—but she acknowledged Moira’s failings before this unseen enemy who stripped her of her clothes, her protection, and even her birthright shield. Please be quiet…! These were the works of a villain, probably an evil thing, and it fell upon her to-

”You’re stalling-“

Please- “Shut up!” Moira yelled. John blinked in surprise but smiled wryly as he readied to retort- “No, damn it!” She swung her heel back in fury and, with a burst of her extraordinary strength, crushed the side of the rumbling device. It screeched metallic, cried blue from new tears in its metal chassis, and died with a fading hum. “John, I love you!” The Gamer blinked. “But you have no idea what I’ve been going through, what the Lady is like, and I’m sick and tired of you acting like I’m being mind-controlled as if you had any right to judge!”

John shrunk back from her withering ****… and only stood tall as fury filled his chest. More plugs from the remaining machine shot towards her back; the magisteel softened as they buried themselves anew. “I can literally read it: I know exactly-”

“No!” John, please-! It had been a **** cry of her mind… and it echoed out beyond where she knew her thoughts to reach. Moira felt herself being lifted by the metal on her arms; with her toes, she hooked the machine and, with a furious kick, flung the 100-pound machine at its twin. John’s newfound reflexes suspended the machine mid-flight before it could harm the last working one John was even aware of. “Clearly you don’t because I’m not under her control, and that much is obvious because I’ve been disagreeing with the Lady about half the time she’s ever opined on anything in the last 48 hours!”

John hovered the broken machine to rest next to him; its dead plugs fell from Moira’s restraints. He silently observed her as he weighed her claim. “What is she telling you to do?”

“She’s telling me to destroy whatever’s doing all of this, for one thing! Lady preserve me, but is she insistent… but I’ve been putting my foot down, with her, with my father- God, sometimes even with-!” She cut herself off with a grimace.

John raised an eyebrow. “With who?”

“With someone you shouldn’t be pissing off with this attack! So hurry up! Let me go, and maybe I can stop this before it gets out of hand-!”

<My Warden,> Lorelei’s voice suddenly blossomed in Moira’s mind, <we have engaged Rave from Collide as well as other attackers. We are under **** from all angles on the surface, and the Gorbachev has breached the lower levels. I am told you have been trapped-!>

Rave?! And Tricia is- no, nevermind that! Lorelei! I am negotiating for an end to this!

John watched her frantic expression shift and her mouth mumble silently. He looked at her status.

Status Effects: Mindlink (Member)

”Who are you talking to?” His Eye flashed.

<They are already-> Lorelei’s voice cut off from Moira’s mind.

“John-!” Moira inhaled as she struggled not to lose control. “John. I need to speak with Lorelei, or else I can’t urge them to not kill everyone coming.”

John looked up at Moira… at the Warden… at his wife, in whatever capacity that even remained. He wore his distrust openly… but his hesitation eventually overcame his spite. His Eye slowly dimmed. “I’m… I’m going to trust you on this, Moira.”

<-ira?! Moira? Are you- aah!>

“Lorelei!” Moira cried out. Lorelei, are you alright?!

John winced. “That mindlink spell cut off…”

“It… what?” Moira looked down at John with horrified eyes. He slowly eased her down to land on her feet, but she only repeated her thoughts. Lorelei, please respond!

John now looked at the door with clear hesitation.

“John, you can still talk to your attackers: tell them to stop! Lady help us all if you killed anyone-“

“No! I told them not to kill,” John spat back, “just because I knew you’d be angry with me if…” John’s eyes drifted to an unseen pop-up; Moira had seen him do it enough times to know that reaction. “No… that’s…” His eyes went wide… and slowly narrowed as his teeth clenched. His fists balled as he glared at the information. “It looks like your father didn’t get the memo.”

Moira’s legs felt weak as she tried to bear the oppressiveness of his voice. “W… What?”

John closed his eyes and focused… and sighed. “C’mon: we’re leaving.”

“Gaaah, you overgrown piss-buckets!” Kazex shrieked as bullets zipped past him. He continued his sprint and hit the dirt only at the sound of the whip cleaving through grass once again. The two Knights and Confessor had found him in the thicket at last; by some unfortunate miracle, his creations had all already moved past and somehow missed this trio, leaving the poor Bloodgrumbler to fend for himself. Much to his irritation, the others had not yet come to his rescue. Is poor Kazex being left to rot?! he screamed across the telepathic network they shared.

We’re a little busy, came Travolta’s lone answer. None sought to correct him.

A row of bullets found the goblin’s legs, stopping his crawl as red blood poured onto the grass. “Grraaah!”

“Hit confirmed!” Another slice of the whip, and Kazex was revealed in the decapitated grass. The Knights quickly chased behind the Confessor who, with his golden whip in hand, smiled smugly at the vermin he uncovered.

“What an ugly little shit,” taunted the blond Confessor with a slight English accent, “but we’ve got to take him in all the same.” The Knights approached, their guns drawn.

“Heh,” the goblin coughed as he held his bleeding legs, “think poor Kazex is done, do you? Youshouldknoworgrognurgor-” His lips peeled and swelled and peeled anew as he hissed, and grumbled, and slowly summoned the spark of life in the blood shed all around him. The Knights readied their weapons, but the blood had already ignited: each turned to a red mist and surrounded the Bloodgrumbler just as the bullets began to fly, slow, and eventually fall slowly out of the air just before their target. The Confessor readied to strike the goblin himself, but the mist was already condensing into a small orb of coiling flames. “Let’s see how pretty you are cooked, ugly shits-!” The spout of flame blasted out to engulf the three-

… and crashed, in broken waves, against a shield not nearly large enough to protect the huge body holding it. Kazex continued to exhale as he blew the ball of flame into a geyser, and the flames continued to be angled upwards as most of it heated the shield or licked at the plain clothes of this new enemy. Clothes fell away, and flesh was soon washed in fire. The shield glowed as it threatened to melt. The grass blades all around them continued to grow faster than the fire could burn them. The flame finally died, leaving a glowing shield and a muscular, naked body.

The shield fell… and revealed an older, bearded man. Kazex expected pain, or at least anger, to flash in the eyes of this intimidating human… but the eyes he found there were distant. They were pits of black… and there, in the soft twinkle of hate Kazex saw there for a brief moment, he saw the naked soul of a man whose life had already been ruined once by a pyromancer.

Another Knight soon ran into the scene through the grass. “My Lord, please slow down-!”

Kazex blinked up at the unflinching, one-armed titan as he let the burning shield drop from his arm. “Ah… are-“

The man’s palm broke Kazex’s nose upon slamming the greenskin’s head against the soil. Thick fingers wrapped around Kazex’s skull… and squeezed. The goblin shrieked for a breath.

John stared at the message for a long moment… and shook his head.

“We’re… leaving?” Moira repeated. “Are you going to call this attack off?”

John began to pull the magisteel from the door and had it press flat around the doorway, completely out of sight for anyone on the other side of the same.

“John! Whatever happened-“

“If I’m going to stop this attack… I’m going to stop it by winning.”

“Wi… John,” Moira pleaded, “if you just work with me, I know we can get everything cleared up. Everything you think the Order is… it can be reformed! I just know it can be! If I can promise that this Cabalist you’re protecting-”

“I’m counting on you to make that happen.” Moira looked at John’s rippling back as she let herself hope. “But… they just killed one of my summons.”

A cold wind blew in the sealed chamber from some unseen place. W-What? That wasn’t a feeling… that was-

“They’ll probably kill the others, too, even people… Tricia… Rave… Alysha, Lily… my mother- no.”

“John, then call off the attack and they’ll be safe!”

“Even Lily? Even Tricia?”

Moira demurred. A demon and a woman promised to the Gorbachevs. Moira couldn’t promise their lives or their safety. In truth, it would already be a leap to try and get John or Collide off without some kind of backlash. “… John, I… I can… John, your mother will be safe! I’ll do everything I can to pardon Collide-”

John stared back at her promise with naked malevolence. “Right… so you can’t. So the only way I can keep them safe is making sure the Order can’t hurt them.”

“John, please, fight whatever is making you say these things or use that voice! Can’t you hear it?! That can’t be you-”

”You’re right. I’ll fight that which makes me say these things.” John let himself wince a smile as his right hand glowed with a green light. “I’m going to go up there… find your father… and make sure he and everyone else in the Order knows not to fuck with me or my family ever again.”

“John, don’t you dare hurt my father!” Tears welled in Moira’s eyes as she shrieked her plea. She charged at John with her bare body only to be lifted anew off her feet by his invisible power. “John, resist whatever it is that’s making you say these-!”

“I honestly have no idea what you keep talking about,” John sighed, “but I can promise you that this is me: I’m pissed, I’m tired of being here, I’m tired of the Order… and I’m tired of losing.”

He was either ignoring it or truly couldn’t sense the difference… but no matter the reason, Moira feared the man was now well beyond reason. She bucked in the air but could not get free. “John… please…”

John… or whatever it was that wore that mask of anger… spoke with a mismatched calm. “I’m not going up there to hurt your father.”