We ported into a forest. Didn’t look any different from the ones back in our world. A botanist could tell you which species were foreign, but to my eyes, everything was the same five species of plants.
Rector produced a tablet from his robes. I peeked over his shoulder and saw a detailed map of Falling Gabriel. To be specific, Feather Hunt. The map was partitioned into grids, and an overwhelming number of moving dots were scattered everywhere like someone had blown glitter across the screen. Teams, individual examinees, could be both. We were on the inside edge of a sector shaded in red. Had to be G16.
Then, he opened a blue-screen. I assumed it was a [Private Channel] or a [Group Chat] with the proctors. We couldn’t see the contents of another Slayer’s screen unless explicit permission was given; it was one of the privacy measures the System had. Whatever the contents were, it made Rector’s lavender eyes dance.
I asked first, “What’s the sitch—?”
“Several trackers just went offline.” Rector focused on his tablet and flicked through several menus, his expression growing graver by the second. “Pendulum, Exam Team 21, Trajectory—their last signals were snuffed less than a minute ago, seconds apart.”
The forest got a little quieter after he said that.
Aiden stepped in front of Chie, actively looking around the foliage for anything of note. “Did we cordon G16 after reporting the breacher?”
Rector morbidly chuckled. “They did, mhm. I don’t know the exact circumstances, but I think Team 21 found the breacher and notified Pendulum and Trajectory. Like good little kids, they waited for us.”
That wasn’t reassuring news. This was blatant confirmation of a breacher—if not the Alt itself—but for, what? Five, six swords to go offline just like that? Either the breacher was so powerful that they incapped an entire team in less than ten seconds, or they disrupted the electronics. Could be a combination of both. Probably was a combo of both.
“Sage.” Rector tucked his tablet away. “Contact the others and tell them we have a likely Alt sighting.”
Sage nodded and pulled up the [Chat]—
A piercing scream, and birds fled treetops. Toward our two o’clock.
“GO!” Rector barked, but we were all one step ahead of him.
[Skill Activation: Mana Impact]
I was third in the stack, rushing through the forest and around thick trees, barely keeping sight of the obscured path ahead. Couldn’t see movement yet. Rector and Firebrand maneuvered effortlessly compared to my stumbling and hobbling. I wasn’t used to navigating with [Mana Impact], especially in a rough environment like this. Because it was a single-instance burst of speed, I had little control over my finer movements. If I positioned myself an inch in the wrong direction or use too much juice, I’d trip on a root or crash into a tree—
Just as I thought that, my boot caught a root. Sounds about right. Panic impaled my heart and I crashed hard onto my shoulder. Somehow, I rolled onto my feet and kept moving. Someone appeared on my flank: Sage, checking on me. I nodded, she nodded. She held onto a small, winged drone that acted like a miniature helicopter—one of her [Yokais]. It was a little humiliating that an engineer had a better method of traversal than me. Then again, she was Sophos’s apprentice.
Rector and Firebrand slowed down to match our pace, and we kept a straight formation as best as we could.
“Slayer System, message for Angels Tryouts [Private Channel]!” Rector shouted during his sprint, a strange pale-green aura hissing off his robes. “Relay: ‘Halt all operations effective immediately!’” A blue-screen briefly popped up before he whisked it away—
Someone was up ahead, incapped, lying face-up toward the crowded branches and treetops: a young woman wearing a stereotypical mage outfit and a big hat too. Well, her hat was a few feet away, torn, laying next to her shattered crystal wand. Blood soaked the left side of her face. She looked concussed, drifting in and out of consciousness.
Then, about five meters northeast, an armored man was arched over a fallen log. Had been an armored man. Most of his armor was in pieces, decorating the ground like a plane crash. Several things had rendered him a pincushion, at the shoulders and back and thighs. I couldn’t tell what the projectiles were. Arrows? Daggers? They were long, abnormally featureless, and the colors were unrealistically dull like they’d been put through an image software.
The four of us grimaced.
An Alternate. Healers couldn’t be called until we secured the area. Considering the injuries’ severity, we didn’t have much time until our casualties’ conditions turned worse. This was a tall task even for our S-Rank Vice Guild Master.
Sounds of combat stole our attention next, down a trail of crunched branches and leaves. Another armored sword got launched back, his shield taking most of the blow, but his feet skidded uncontrollably over the uneven terrain. Like me earlier, a root got him and his footing was fucked.
A discolored person stood before him—
“Sylph!”
Rector. His [Parure] glowed, and from a single word, he commanded one of the four [Paracelsian Elementals]: [Sylph, the Air Elemental]. I heard stories about his famous summoning-type [Skill]. For any summoner, commanding one of these [Elementals] was an achievement in itself. To command all of them? You’d be hailed as a genius, and that Rector was.
With a single motion of his arm, a pillar of air screamed toward the Alternate, tearing and ripping trees from the earth. Chunks of crust, rocks, and roots were funneled into what was effectively a horizontal tornado. I couldn’t see or hear anything after the first second, but I saw the aftermath: a massive and disgusting scar tarnishing the forest, running toward the horizon. You could see this new landmark from space, I bet.
The rest of us rushed the fallen sword. Because he was caught on the outside edge of [Sylph], the poor bastard was covered in dirt and leaves. Being discombobulated out of his mind, he took several tries to stand up, gasping for air.
“Holy shit…” he muttered, leaning against a lucky tree that managed to survive. “That… That thing took out everybody, man. My team, the proctors, I never saw anything like it.”
“As long as you’re alright—” My next few words were stuck in my throat. I recognized this guy’s shield, and his flail and his armor underneath the gray and brown muck. They were unmistakable. [Hope] was the silver shield he carried for others, and [Order] was for those who wanted to take that away. “Vic?”
Victor blinked several times to get the dirt out of his eyes. Even though I was standing right in front of him, he didn’t seem to believe it. Neither could I. This was a cruel twist of fate; of course, of all teams the Alternate had to encounter, it was Vic’s. It had to be him.
“Alex?” he said. “Wha—? How the hell are you even here—why are you here—?!”
He had his answer when Rector caught up with us. Seeing his face alone caused Vic to freeze in place.
Rector said, forceful and direct, “Conqueror’s with me, Victor. He told me you’re a healing guardian. Can you still carry your shield?”
Vic glanced at me before admiring the very man who could give him wings. Those three sentences slapped him back to reality. He swallowed his questions and his fear, and he firmly nodded. A familiar fire was ignited in his eyes; that was the face of one determined idiot. Last time he was this motivated, he was chasing after a cute exchange student’s number. Today, however, he had another target to chase.
“Yessir,” he replied with all the confidence in the world.
“Good, you’re with me—”
Sage shouted, “It’s coming!”
“Golem!”
Rector seized the vanguard. Thick bronze rock encased his arms, tripling their size and growing his wing-span so much that his “fingertips” grazed the flattened earth.
There was a crunch and bang, then wind blew loose leaves and branches back.
When the wind subsided, his rocky hands held the Alternate back, which had returned with the power of a fighter jet. Rector rooted himself in place and refused to let our breacher go.
We finally got a better look at the motherfucker. The Alternate was different than the one we''d encountered in Primordial Plaza. It appeared more “stable” (whatever the hell that meant with these things). Like the dull objects from earlier, the same filter was washed over the Alt. It lacked curves and edges, details and features, like a low-polygon model from an unfinished video game. Despite that, we could still make out distinctive characteristics. Its frame was feminine, it was wearing a flowing gown that was freakishly frozen despite physics—same with “her” long hair. It pushed an equally low-polygon sword against [Golem]’s arms.
And…
And there were two flat, wing-shaped objects attached to its back. Wings. They were wings. And that gown was… And her hair…
The Alternate wasn’t her. It shouldn’t be her, but…
Rector came to the same conclusion; or rather, his mind immediately recognized the similarities. The tension and grit he had was gone. He stopped clenching his teeth, and slowly his jaw fell like a gavel. “Sera…?”
If it was anyone else, anything else, then he wouldn’t be shaken. Because this Alternate looked like “Seraph,” his arms relaxed through no fault of his own. It was a moment of genuine shock, something you simply couldn’t prepare for unless you were a machine.
And it happened at the worst time.
“Seraph” pulled away and spit Rector through the stomach with [“Ascalon Creed”].
[GUILD STATUS]
INCAPACITATED: Rector
“IDRIS!” Sage’s scream was a distant thing in my ears.
“Seraph” yanked her blade free, an arc of her best friend’s blood canvasing the dirt. Rock fell from Rector’s arms and decayed into meaningless ash, and he wobbled backwards. [“Ascalon Creed”] shadowed his glazed and horrified expression.
[Flame Avatar Shift - Burning Tempest]
Until her sword clanged hard against [Jiroku]. Aiden knocked her sword-arm aside and swung his greatsword, again, like a baseball bat. Steel clanged. “Seraph” took it but she couldn’t mitigate the force and got carried off the ground. She was the original “Angel” for a reason, however. Her wings opened and carried the force elegantly onto two feet, standing a handful of meters away.
Firebrand, sweaty and panting from adrenaline, turned his shoulder. “Vic, stabilize Rector; and Conq, you’re with me! And Sage—?!” If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Sage wasn’t listening; she was watching Rector writhe underneath Vic’s touch.
“CHIE!” Firebrand shouted, and finally she looked up. “Order a perimeter around G16 and tell Seraph to fuckin’ run!”
“O-Okay! Okay!”
“Sage, hold him down for me!” Vic told her.
I tore myself away from the sight.
I couldn’t think about what happened. Had no time to. I banished those thoughts out of necessity. We had to fight. We had to survive. Make no mistake, fighting “Seraph”—or whoever this Alt plagiarized—was a fight we could not win. Our best chance was lasting long enough for Seraph to arrive.
“Alex!” Vic called from behind. “Here!”
[Skill Activation: Taslim Conceptual Defense]
Four smaller, transparent duplicates of [Hope] revolved around me and Firebrand—[Conceptual Defense]. The function was on the tin. We each had four instances of absolute conceptual protection and mitigation. Whenever “Seraph” landed a good hit, it would absorb the damage and any resulting effects like momentum or wind.
We needed every little advantage.
I donned my [Armor] and [Gauntlets].
“Seraph” stood motionless, blood still dripping from her sig. “Na…than…” she said, barely loud enough for us to hear.
Firebrand lowered [Jiroku] slightly. “What—? Nathan? What’s wrong with Nathan—?!”
“Nathan…” “Seraph” covered her face, hunched over like a grieving widow. “Ah—! Nathan—Nathan—Nathan—NATHAAAAN!”
She despairingly screamed toward the broken and dust-laden sky. I couldn’t begin to understand the context, but there was no reason to. Despite how “human” her emotions were, she wasn’t one. She was an Alternate, a breacher, a monster. Everything she felt had never belonged to “her” in the first place.
Without any choice, me and Firebrand charged.
He was the first to close the distance, swinging [Jiroku] downward onto the mourner. In a flash, steel echoed throughout the ruined forest and a flaming greatsword without its owner buzzed past my head.
[Mana Impact]
I drove my fist into “Seraph’s” unprotected flank. She howled and [“Ascalon Creed”] flashed again, until a fiery kick pushed her back. Then another [Impact] to the jaw, a flaming fist below the ribs, a boot, and a hot hook to the chin. Firebrand and I juggled blows, hitting “Seraph” toward the other relentlessly, as long as our stamina and wits could last.
Wasn’t for very long. Just like [Jiroku], Firebrand got sent flying into the trees and I didn’t catch the initial strike. Just a single blow packed that much force. I hadn’t realized until now, too, that [Conceptual Defense] had run its course for both of us. No more damage immunity. No more protection.
And “Seraph” was standing in front of me.
“Dammit!” Recklessly with no real options, I threw a punch only for “Seraph” to catch my [Gauntlet]. Her hand squeezed around my knuckles and crunched the [Memento]. I dispelled it before she could do any more damage.
My other fist came around—
Something hit the underside of my chin. My helmet shattered, and cold wind lashed at my exposed face. Clouds, earth, clouds, earth again. I was in the air, way above the trees, high enough that the drop would hurt and hurt bad.
If “Seraph” didn’t kill me first, that was. Somehow, moving faster than my ascent to heaven, she was hovering above me with her wings outstretched. Feathers broke off and marked me as their next target. At least a dozen of them: sharp, low-poly things that would shred my [Armor] like it was paper—and I wasn’t in the best position to defend. How the hell would I?
[Skill Activation: Yokai No.7 - Yamabiko (山彦)]
A spherical drone appeared in front of me, painted like a dying bird, and had these strange cones embedded into every hexagonal plate. They were speakers. A horrible, high-pitch sound exploded, enough that I could physically see the sound waves. They functioned as a repulsive barrier and the feathers dumbly collided into it. The feathers slowed as if moving through sand then stopped altogether and finally blown away.
And that was all I could see before gravity wanted me back down.
I was screaming, I was cursing, I was probably pissing my pants, but fortunately a hero caught me.
Firebrand. “Stop screaming, dumbass!”
Would you look at that? Just earlier he tried killing me.
I felt the pleasure of both feet on the ground, and sweet relief temporarily won over adrenaline. Then, the [Yokai] dropped like a brick in water and landed a couple feet away, sparking and broken.
What little morale I had was quickly erased seeing that.
FB and I looked up.
There she was, like a killer angel ready to smite us.
“NATHAN—!” She summoned feathers again; this time, a lot more than a dozen. Multiple dozens, and counting them all would drive me insane.
I shouted, “Move, move, move—!”
Feathers rained, whistling and zipping and whining. The sounds were mortifying like they were whispering directly into my ears. I flinched, yelped, fumbled my way throughout the gash Rector had carved into the forest. I was barely one step ahead. Going on like this, I’d be running into a grave.
Had to do something.
[Memento Recollection - Nightingale Shotgun]
[Certain Shot]
[Certain Shot], that’d do. It was a conceptual-type [Skill]. The next projectile I launched, it would always hit its target in a “theoretical world.” By that, if nothing got in the way, then it’d be bullseye every time.
A single spell was enough to blast a feather out of the air. I kept pulling the trigger, playing skeet shooting with these glorified pigeons.
“Sera!” Firebrand yelled through the chaos, swinging [Jiroku]—must’ve fetched it—and whipping around a ribbon of fire, burning away feathers. “Sera, listen to me! Nathan’s fine! Nathan, he’s—!”
He shouldn’t have said that name. It was like a curse.
All the feathers stopped and turned toward him.
“Oh shit.”
A moment before they converged, I saw a small flying ball rushing in front of him.
[Yokai No.8 - Koma-inu (狛犬)]
The [Yokai] formed an onmyodo-like barrier—the kind that the Fushimi Clan would employ—and protected against the first volley of feathers. The barrier cracked after the second. The third finished the job and annihilated everything on the other side, even felling a tree as collateral damage. When the smoke cleared, the only thing that remained was broken electronics. No blood or guts.
Firebrand was right underneath “Seraph” with [Jiroku] over his head.
[Flame Avatar Shift - Ardent Passion]
His veins furiously glowed throughout his body in a crimson-orange light. They bled through his robes, turning him into a human torch. Steam hissed as his muscles creaked like a steampunk engine. Something changed in his eyes. Before, they were determined and composed—now, they had a hint of insanity.
This had to be the second stage of [Flame Avatar Shift].
Smoke puffed between his teeth. “BURN!”
“Seraph” was engulfed in a pillar of flames, and it burned so brightly that I shielded my eyes. I couldn’t tell what was louder: her screams or the screams of the fire.
Firebrand refused to ease off the gas. He kept burning her and panting and smiling and the flames only got brighter and hotter.
“FB…” I muttered too quietly for him to hear. At some point, the screaming stopped. “Firebrand!”
He didn’t let up.
“AIDEN!” I threw a rock, smacking him against the chest.
It was like throwing a bucket of cold water on him. He came to his senses and the pillar was snuffed just like that. [Jiroku] fell to his side and his arms spasmed from the exertion. All I could hear was his exhausted breathing. That’s it. Only his breathing. “Seraph” wasn’t talking anymore, her wings weren’t flapping, and her feathers weren’t singing. What a welcomed sound.
The forest was, for the first time in eternity, quiet again.
FB looked around at the fallen trees, burnt leaves, and the blue sky with ash in the air. “Hey… We killed it, right? We killed ‘Sera’?”
I was going to nod and clap him on the back, but someone beat me to the chase.
She wasn''t dead.
I raised my [Shotgun]. “DUCK—!”
[Skill Activation: Got Your Back]
[“Ascalon Creed”] met [Hope]. Vic. I’d never been happier to see him, because I completely forgot about that [Skill]. [Got Your Back] was something simple: whenever an “ally” had their back turned, he could instantly teleport behind them. It was more than useful; it was gold precisely because of moments like this.
Firebrand cursed, Vic cursed, we all were swearing like a bunch of sailors and “Seraph” was incoherently yelling too. She pressed [“Ascalon”] against [Hope], the edge biting into the face and making Vic bend the knee.
A shotgun blast knocked her off. Another pushed her back, and again. These slugs wouldn’t do shit, but they weren’t useless. I looked at our MVP while “Seraph” was staggered. “FB, cook her!”
“Comin’ up!” He rushed forward and stabbed [Jiroku] in the earth. Fire broke through the soft soil and created a beautiful geyser, turning our "Guild Master" into the Burning Man.
She wouldn’t let herself get beat by the same trick twice, which meant I didn’t have much time. I darted around, dispelled [Nightingale] and clapped. [Gauntlets] formed around my arms. As the fire raged, two chains arced outward and wrapped around her sword-arm. I grounded myself and pulled like I wanted to tear her fucking arm off. “VIC!”
“On it!” Vic understood the assignment. He dropped [Hope] and spun [Order], his flail, around like it was a toy.
[Lashing Flail]
The chain on his flail extended to pretty much the same length as mine. Vic snagged her other arm and started pulling too, both hands on the handle. We played the worst game of tug-of-war. Neither of us wanted to let go. If we did, that was an easy way of recording our names in the history-books: the two dumbasses who got murked before their careers started.
I looked at the last piece of the puzzle. “FB, you’re up!”
He grunted and shut the oven off—
“Shit!” “Fuck!” Vic and I both shouted.
“Seraph” went buck-wild. She thrashed and yanked on our chains; for a moment, my footing slipped and I nearly fell. Neither me or Vic had the strength to keep her restrained. Not for more than a few seconds—
[Yokai No.15 - Raiju (雷獣)]
Lightning struck “Seraph,” but it wasn’t storm-clouds that did the deed. Our savior was a small drone that had electricity sparking around its shell. The lightning bolt wasn’t as devastating as the real thing, but it brought a couple seconds.
That was enough for Firebrand.
He stepped inside and shoved [Jiroku] through “Seraph’s” chest, deep, just like how she’d skewered our Vice Guild Master.
She screamed static.
Firebrand was unfazed. He pushed [Jiroku] deeper and deeper until only a few inches remained between "flesh" and crossguard. “You’re not gonna hurt anyone else, Sera—!”
Her wings flapped, then wind flattened my face. My whole body was yanked downwards like God had a finger on me. Air was in my ears. Couldn’t tell what happened. All I knew was… All I knew was my feet weren’t touching the ground anymore, and I saw the beautiful horizon in the distance and a few mountains were waving at me.
We were in the air. We all were. Me and Vic, still holding onto our chains; and Firebrand, whose sword was stuck inside “Seraph.”
Together, we had a single second of mutual realization and subsequently horror.
“No—no—no—no—no—!”
Then, “Seraph” plummeted back to the earth with us as passengers.
[PARTY STATUS]
INCAPACITATED: Conqueror
Black. Darkness. Muted sounds, iron in my mouth. Pain and aches all over. Wind knocked out of me. I blinked. Blinked again, and a small picture-frame in my vision was my only window. Something was happening in front of me. Blurry figures. Fighting. Someone was yelling. Something flew across the air.
Firebrand…? The Alt…? I… I don’t know…
Branches scratched my face. I bit down on a bunch of leaves and spat them out.
Vic was standing somehow. He tried running at “Seraph” and was smacked away, flying straight into a tree.
Dammit…
[Memento Recollection - Nightingale Pistol]
Somehow, I had the better mind to call for iron. With what strength I had left, I aimed straight ahead and fired. Didn’t know where, didn’t know what, but hopefully… Hopefully it was “Seraph”—
A feather ripped [Nightingale] out of my hand and cut my palm open. I gasped, but surprisingly, no pain. Just the warm sensation of blood and the not-so-warm sight of a bloody hand.
I blinked.
Firebrand was on his knees, using [Jiroku] to hold himself up.
“Seraph” was standing before him.
A groan cracked through my dry throat. “FB—!”
[Skill Activation]
There was a bell-like sound, ringing as if a good deed was done.
[Wings of Seraphim]
A white blur rammed into “Seraph,” a woman who wore the same gown and had the same hair—however, she had six wings unlike her two. From the imposter’s back, an ivory blade poked through, spotless.
“Begone, imposter,” said Guild Master Seraph.
[Ascalon Creed] glowed, and a holy light burst from the white-steel. It leaked through the Alternate’s wounds, through her eyes and open mouth, and her skin cracked and flaked off.
“Seraph” was consumed by the light until all that was left was a lonely Angel.
[Event Commission “The Seraph Alternate” has been completed]
[You have been paid 250,000ssp]
Event Commission: The Seraph Alternate
Pay: 250,000ssp
Description: If God truly does exist, then why did He give me this life? Only you know the answer, Nathan. So please, answer me for the last time—let me hear your voice again!—why does my heart hurt? Why do good people die and why do the worst reign? If this is “humanity,” then I reject it. I reject this awful world that took you. You... You had been everything to me. Where you rest, haunt me until this "body" withers. Possess me, so then I can finally be "human."