The Last Dainv-Chapter 136
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
One eye opened as Gale's left hand moved to under his pillow where the storage box sat. Scratching in the middle of the night in an hour who knows when could only mean a ghost. It had to be.
Right hand moved to the nightstand, picking up his phone. Turning it on, it said 3:00AM, exactly when a ghost would appear. It had to be.
He scooted over more to Rachel's side, where the pillow wall had fully been kicked out of the bed. She rolled over as he reached her, still seemingly asleep as her hand lay on his shoulder. Can she really not hear the scratching?!
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
Breath of the Void expanded, tendrils looked to where Ollie laid on the couch and the twins. None woke up from the clearly loud scratching of the ghost.
Guide
, he mouthed.
Is that a ghost?
[Query rejected. Ghosts do not exist.]
You know what I mean! Scan the entity to see if it's a ghost or spectre or whatever!
Gale mouthed harshly, clenching his fist. Swear to god, one of these days.
Tendrils moved outwards to the suite in front of theirs. Something moved inside. A vague entity that he couldn't see properly, even with the eyes of the void.
[Warning: Spiritual entity detected. Warning: Host does not have sufficient tools to eliminate entity. Threat level: Moderate.]
Spirits? Isn't that the same thing as a ghost?!
[Negative. Spiritual entities are defined as physical manifestations of lingering Origin.]
What do you mean physical?
[Physical is defined as a tangible object.]
So I can hit it?
[Positive. Warning: Host does not have sufficient tools to eliminate entity.]
Gale slid out of Rachel's arm as he mentally puffed his chest out. If it can be touched, it can be harmed. And if it can be harmed, Weber can hack it. He slowly got out of bed to not wake her up, and the cold floor hit his bare feet.
Slipping out of the room, he entered the living room where moonlight came through the thin gap in the middle of the curtains. Ollie sprawled on the sofa, one arm hanging off onto the floor, not afraid of a ghost or boogie man that could possibly cut off his hand in the middle of his sleep. Documents laid all over the floor and the coffee table that he must've been reading.
The twins' door was cracked open. Kyle laid on his back, mouth wide open, snoring, while Clyde lay on the opposite side, buried in the sheets.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
The sound continued, coming from the suite he checked earlier, now closer, such that it was clear enough to know that the scratching came from a keratin object. Not human, that was clear, as the sound was too deep. It sounded like thick claws or hooves.
When Gale put his ears against the door, the scratching suddenly stopped, then started again. This time, more manic and hitting against the wood. Looking back, neither Ollie nor the twins, or even Rachel, stirred in their sleep.
Standing straight, he leaned over the peephole. The hallway was empty. Just a dark hallway, as the lights were turned off. Only moonlight rayed through the curtains of the window on the right side.
A
thing
went up to the peephole, looking back at Gale. He fell backwards, landing with a thud on the floor. For a split second, he saw what it was. A crown of branches, antlers like a deer. Its face clearly a deer's, except deer don't have sharp incisor teeth and four fangs both top and bottom.
The scratching got faster.
Gale stood up and closed his eyes, using Breath of the Void. Tendrils went through the door, searching for whatever was outside.
Nothing.
That didn't make sense. Before, it was just a vague entity. Now, it wasn't anything. Just a blank space where something should be, different from the shadow he fought in the Eclipsed.
Gale looked to Ollie and walked to the sofa quietly.
"Ollie," he whispered, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up."
Ollie groaned and opened one eye, bloodshot. "What?"
"Listen. There's something outside, scratching something."
Ollie sat up, blinking at Gale. A few seconds passed. Silence.
"There's nothing," Ollie said, lying back down. "Go to sleep."
"But there's something outside!"
"It's probably just some cat or the wind or whatever. This place is old," Ollie turning to face the cushion. "Ghosts aren't real! It was hard enough to fall asleep on this shit, now leave me alone."
The scratching had stopped. Gale stood still, feeling stupid at how the scratching had stopped so conveniently.
He walked back to the bedroom where Rachel was. She was still asleep, hair spread on the pillow. Gale sat on the edge of the bed and nudged her shoulder.
"Rachel," he whispered.
"Gale? What's wrong?" Her eyes opened slowly as she slightly sat herself up. "You look… like you've seen a ghost."
"There's scratching. At the door to our suite."
Rachel sat still, looking at the doorway, listening for anything. "I don't hear anything."
"It stopped. But it was there. Something looked at me through the peephole. Something with horns."
Rachel yawned. "Bad dream, maybe?"
"No, I was awake. I'm sure of it."
"Hotels make weird noises. Old buildings settle."
"This wasn't the building."
"If it comes back, wake me." Rachel touched his arm, then laid back down, eyes already closing. "Try to get some sleep, Gale."
As soon as her head hit the pillow, her breathing evened out.
It's fine, Gale. Guide categorized it as something physical, so it must be physical, and physical things can be hit and slashed. He selected the Weber, hilt materialising in his right hand. Alter activated immediately, making it smaller to accommodate the CQC situation.
Moving back to the front door of the suite, he took a deep breath as his left hand moved to the doorknob. He opened it and stepped outside into the empty hallway. Nothing outside, just a carpet runner and numbered doors, with room 218 in front of him. So if it wasn't a ghost, how does it scratch wood when the carpet filled the whole space?
Gulp.
The tendrils told him about the emptiness inside of 218. He crossed over, putting his ear on the door. Nothing. Left hand took to the knob, turning it, and surprisingly, it was unlocked.
When he pushed open the door, he lunged forward into the living room, Weber ready to block anything. But inside, the only things that greeted him were inanimate objects. Two doors to two bedrooms, a coffee table, a sofa, an armchair, similar to their own suite. No bags, clothes, no nothing.
Maybe this was all in his head. Rachel's probably right that his mind is playing tricks on him. He did read in an orange forum before that the mind likes to make up stuff to make things come true.
Hold on, there's no way that orange forum was correct. That was a
mundane
forum. This is Aur…
Gulp.
Tendrils felt the movement behind him. He spun backwards as a figure ran past the open door, going quickly down the hallway to the right. All he caught was a glimpse of the crown of antlers.
Gale ran to the hallway. The corridor was empty, but the stairwell door at the end clicked shut.
He sprinted to it. The stairwell door opened to concrete steps with cold air, heating was gone. Footsteps echoed from above.
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Gale followed, Weber gripped tightly, as ready as it could ever be. The stairwell went up, each door going up had numbers marked. He passed 3, 4, then 5, the footsteps always just ahead, just out of sight.
At the 6th floor, the top level, the footsteps stopped. Gale listened. Nothing. He opened the door.
The top floor was different. Candles burned across the hallway floor in clusters that looked satanic in nature. Red circles were drawn on the carpet, walls, and ceiling. Star patterns within circles and strange symbols.
Gale stepped forward.
Cold air touched the back of his neck.
He spun around, blade cutting through empty air. Nothing there.
"Guide?"
[Warning: Spiritual entity detected.]
[Recommendation: Retreat.]
Another cold breath, this time by his ear. A sound like laughter, childish and demonic at the same time.
Gale spun again, Weber hitting nothing. Something pushed him. He caught himself against the railing, almost falling over. Below, the stairwell dropped into darkness.
The laughter came closer. Weight pushed against his back, completely pushing him over the railing.
He fell into the darkness, feet hitting the ground on the lower floor. The laughter echoed from the 6th floor.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He ran back down to the second floor as the laughter followed behind.
He burst out onto the second floor from the stairwell and ran to Room 217. The door was still open. Gale slammed it softly enough to not wake up the others and leaned against it, breathing hard.
The suite was quiet. Ollie still slept on the sofa, surrounded by documents. Nothing had changed.
Gale went to the bedroom. Rachel was still asleep, breathing deeply, her face peaceful in this ghost-infested hotel. Weber dematerialized back into the storage box, and he slipped back into bed, scooting over closer to Rachel's side. If it followed, she'd take care of it. Definitely, she'd kill it with fire. Fire kills everything.
Rachel tapped Gale's arm. No response. She nudged him harder, almost to a shake. This time it worked. His eyes half opened, looking at her from below. She leaned over him, her hair falling around her face.
"Hey," she said. "Time to wake up, though you don't look like you got much sleep at all."
Gale forced his eyes open. He laid awake most of the night and barely slept.
"Something like that," he said with his morning voice.
Rachel kept her hand on his arm. "You've got circles under your eyes."
"What time is it?" Gale asked.
"Almost ten." Rachel was already dressed in jeans and a sweater. "Everyone else is up. Ollie's been going through those documents since before dawn. Says he found something."
Gale got up, muscles stiff from sleeping in an odd position. He went to the window, pulling back the blackout curtains. Outside, the blizzard kept going, snow blowing horizontally, everything beyond just white.
"Still stuck," he muttered.
"Looks that way," Rachel said. "Come on. We're holding a breakfast meeting. Though 'breakfast' might be overstating it."
She walked back to the living room through the open bedroom door. Gale followed, noticing Ollie sitting on the floor surrounded by papers. The twins sat on the sofa, Clyde eating a twinkie while Kyle ate a granola bar, both casually watching Ollie fiddle with papers.
"Look who decided to join us," Kyle said.
"Rough night?" Clyde asked, not looking up.
"Yeah, something like that," Gale said, making Kyle whistle.
Going to the coffee table, a pile of vending machine food sat, including candy bars, chips, more twinkies, and several Cola Zero cans.
"Breakfast?" Gale asked.
"Yep," Ollie said, still focused on his papers. "Hotel kitchen's closed, obviously. No staff except Robert at the front desk."
"Anyone try the restaurant?" Gale asked.
"Locked," Rachel said, sitting on the armchair sofa. "We're lucky the vending machines still work."
Gale took a candy bar, opened it, and took a bite. The sweetness of it was a welcome compared to the rough night he had.
"So what did you find?" he asked Ollie, looking at the scattered papers all over the floor.
"Something big. Really big." Ollie looked up, pulling out a specific sheet. "This is from the research facility logs. It mentions 'shards' which is some rare material the Silver Lions have been researching for decades."
"Shards?" Rachel leaned forward. "What kind of shards?"
"Doesn't say exactly," Ollie replied. "But they're extremely valuable... and powerful. According to these notes, consuming just one can boost an Aurian's power significantly."
"How significantly?" Clyde asked, swallowing the last bite of twinkie..
"They only had two to test. One was given to an Awakened-level Aurian. After consuming it, they immediately jumped to late-Attuned." Ollie said.
"I'm not buying that shit," Kyle wiped the crumbs from the granola bar off the sofa. "That's not possible. That takes years, even with the best training."
"Not according to this," Ollie tapped the paper. "And after that success, they didn't use the second shard. They were saving it for something else."
Gale took another bite and opened a can of Cola Zero. Sipping it once, something weird happened in his mouth. Bubbles that made drinking the liquid harder. Oddly enough, it felt good. So this was why all the older kids drank these kinds of cans.
Ollie pulled out another document. "And listen to this, the shards have a similar composition to dust. But they're much more potent and don't cause corruption."
"So why aren't we all taking these instead of risking dust?" Rachel asked.
"Because they're incredibly rare," Ollie said. "According to these logs, only two have been found in the past hundred years. And one of those was apparently stolen."
Kyle snorted. "Stolen by who?"
"The Caliber Council, the asshole at the top of the Path," Ollie said. "There was some kind of hidden war in the 2020s. Path leadership fought the Jiuling for control of a shard that had slipped from Silver Lion hands."
"That wasn't in any of the Path history I studied," Clyde said.
"Would you advertise stealing something like that?" Ollie countered. "The Path has always been about image management. Remember, most of the Council members are corporate executives first, fighters second."
Rachel wrapped her arms around herself. "So what does this have to do with the artificial rifts? With Project Threshold?"
"Everything," Ollie said. He spread more papers on the floor. "Look at this timeline. After the Path stole their shard, the Silver Lions went quiet for decades. No major moves, no expansion of territory. They were regrouping, planning."
"Planning what?" Gale asked, though he had a good guess.
"Revenge," Ollie said simply. "But more than that. They realized they couldn't match the Path's manpower or the Jiuling's traditional power. So they went in a different direction: science. They started researching ways to open rifts artificially."
"Why?" Gale asked.
"Because rifts sometimes contain shards," Ollie said. "They figured if they could create their own rifts, they could harvest more shards and build up their power base. Level the playing field against the other factions."
Kyle tossed his empty wrapper on the table. "So it's just about power, then? Getting more juice for their fighters?"
"Not only that," Ollie said. "Remember Project Armament? The program to arm mundanes with ether-tech?"
"Yeah, what about?" Rachel said.
"Here's where it gets interesting." Ollie held up another document. "According to this, the Silver Lions think human-controlled rifts could be more stable than natural ones. They believe they can create a method for controlled harvesting of shards."
"That's insane," Rachel said. "We're supposed to be closing them, not creating them."
"Well, that's the thing," Ollie countered. "They believe arming mundanes with ether-tech would create a more balanced society. No more Aurian elite controlling everything. Everyone's protected against uncontrolled rifts."
"Noble goal," Kyle said. "Evil methods. Sounds a lot like someone, am I right for real for real?"
"For real for real, bro. Mega reals," Clyde said.
"Idiots." Ollie sighed as he stacked the papers neatly. "Anyways, they've become so obsessed with getting back what was taken from them and reshaping society that they're willing to risk everything. Creating unstable rifts, turning people into dust addicts, experimenting on captives."
"But why now?" Rachel asked. "Why wait decades before making their move?"
"According to these notes, natural rifts have been occurring more frequently in the last decade," Ollie said. "They see it as a sign of change. They want to be on the right side of that change, even if they have to force it."
Gale finished the candy bar and crumpled the wrapper. "Any mention of Hathie? My father?"
"Nothing specific beyond what was in that journal we found. But there are references to an 'external consultant' with unusual abilities who helped refine their rift-creation technology in the '90s," Ollie said.
"So what's the plan?" Kyle finally asked. "We're stuck here until the storm passes anyway."
"The plan is we get all this information to someone who can actually do something about it. Silver Lions creating their own rifts? That's beyond our pay grade." Ollie put the stack of papers back into their cardboard file box.
"Pay grade?" Kyle laughed. "That's rich coming from you, Glory. What's your net worth now? Two billion? Three?"
Clyde kicked his brother's foot. "Closer to five, and definitely not spreading the love."
"Four-point-eight," Ollie said. "Not that it matters."
"Of course it matters," Kyle said. "You're sitting pretty while Jonathan has us running around doing the dirty work. Special Investigation Division unit my ass."
Ollie rolled his eyes. "Oh please. You two knew exactly what you were signing up for. The Path doesn't pay for information. Results is only what matters to them."
"Our results?" Clyde sat up straight. "We've taken down three class three rifts in the last month alone
and
arrested several murdering bozos."
"While taking kickbacks from every dust dealer in Scarborough," Ollie said.
"Prove it," Kyle almost couldn't hold back his laugh.
"I don't need to prove it. The twins' reputation speaks for itself. Everyone knows you two will do anything for the right price." Ollie moved the file box over to the wall. "How else could you afford all that unregulated ammo on a Path salary?"
Clyde winced and continued the argument with Ollie and Kyle. Rachel took a Cola Zero and sat back down on the armchair.
If we don't finding anyone to Control, we don't have to file the extra paperwork and do the dirty work.
That's what the twins said when they almost found him. Now it puts it all into perspective. These guys are basically just like Needle. They only care about themselves.
"Some things matter more than money," Rachel whispered, adding to the ongoing argument.
Kyle turned to her, eyebrows raised. "Easy to say when your family has more money than God."
"The Ann fortune wasn't built on betrayal," she said.
"No," Clyde said. "Just on fire and fear."
Rachel's eyes narrowed at the twins, the room getting warmer by the second. It stopped when Gale put his hand on her arm, smiling at her. And that's when he caught sight of it.
"Guys," Gale said, eyes pointing outside the window. "Look out the window."
Everyone turned as Gale walked up to the window.
"What is it?" Rachel asked, moving beside him.
"There's something out there," Gale said, leaning closer to the glass, squinting against the white glare. At first, all he saw was a slight shade against the wall of white.
The wind blew hard, enough to distort the pattern of the storm, revealing the dark shape. Tall, impossibly so, standing at the edge of the tree line. The figure didn't move, nor did its fur even stir against the storm. The crown of antlers was something he wouldn't forget.
Chapter 136
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