The moment Logun left Relik in the care of Veech, the regret settled in his gut like cold lead.
Leaving an unmarked Shahari in the hands of a Hurc, the very
Hurc hands responsible for beating the boy into a pulp not even a day prior, was a failure of leadership that would have made Jabaani's father spit on his boots. A terrible decision by any metric, but in the Astran Empire, business always arrived before pleasure, and Salaam was the undisputed heart of the continent's chemical heartbeat.
Logun moved through the sterile, white-tiled corridors of the outer Temple, his expression of anonymity almost second nature.
The city was beautiful and on any other day he would stop to enjoy, but he wasn't here for the sights. He was here for "medicine".
In a city that placed research at its backbone, the priests of Salaam took pride in studying and manufacturing more than just prayers.
Logun had collected his product in a dimly lit sub-level: a crate of synthetic hormones tailored for an extremely sensitive client and vials of a numbing agent so potent it was said to silence Iké itself.
Information like this was a death sentence; only he and the silent priest who handed over the cache knew the contents.
Given the circumstances he would have to somehow work an extra surcharge on the bill.
He was barely two streets away from the exchange point, the heavy crate secured under his arm, when air rushed past him towards the Temple. This air was then expelled in an even more violent torrent and a resounding-
BOOM.
The explosion sounded off accompanied by a physical shove against his spine, almost flinging him off the building he was perched on.
Before he lifted his head, he begged and hoped that this was not from The Temple, that this had nothing to do with the people he left behind.
He peeked over his shoulder at the pristine building and saw a large smoking hole midway up the tower. Residual waves of Iké and lightning dancing at the point of exit.
Logun didn't need to see them to know that his entourage was responsible. He knew Wyva quite well, and though the Alven presented himself as restrained and relaxed in Rému. He did not hold the same reverence for anything outside the walls of his home.
Logun leapt up onto a higher ledge narrowing his eyes as the scene came into full view.
The reaction of the citizens was a well-choreographed and incredibly silent.
In Potaan, an explosion would have brought a thousand Hands to arms.
In Rému, people would have been ready by yesterday.
Here the reaction seemed unnaturally clinical.
The bellmen and priest that roamed the streets moved in eerie, synchronized lines: guiding the people toward the reinforced shelters built into the marble foundations. It spoke volumes of what they expected from Vanqis that they didn't even think to bare their own arms.
Logun ignored the shook his head as he gave the retreating crowds a once over.
He coiled himself into a crouch before gathering his Iké and moving them down his legs and to the soles of his feet. All before he released it all to rocket himself in the direction of the Temple.
He held his face tight as he flew across the skyline. As he approached the sound of wind rushing across the gaping hole in the wall, left a wicked flutelike whistle.
Logun landed on the glass panel just over the crater, so he skillfully slid off and into the room below.
He found it covered in ash, dishevelled but empty, the only sign that the scuffle didn't spill out into the city was that the door had fallen inward off its hinges. He quickly gave chase, following the destruction.
The scent of residual Iké lined cracks in the walls, the chipped marble floor dusted with a million glittering diamonds. Through the haze of ozone and burnt chemicals, he saw Veech's silhouette, retreating up a wall and into a higher balcony. Wyva was there too, spinning in a haptic circle an attempt to keep track of his opponent.
Said opponent, had split into three now, and was climbing across the walls with the grace of an enlarged insect.
Logun sighed before calmly placing his crate down in what he hoped would remain a secured position. He broke off into a slight jog down the corridor and leaping onto the banister, continuing his sprint towards the conflict.
Just as Vanqis leapt in for Wyva's blind-spot, Logun jumped in intercepting the Shiear with a foot to the face. This gained the attention of the other two clones and thus that of Wyva, who didn't hesitate to retreat behind Logun's guard.
"What are we even doing right now?" Logun asked, his voice low and dangerous.
The downed clone found his feet, using a hand to fix his jaw with a sickening crack. He moved it side-to-side before adopting his usual calm stance.
"Excuse me, but it seems that these two children are impeding on my right to possession," He spoke a deceptive smile returning to his face, "I have this specimen until it has run its course."
Logun squinted briefly but kept his composure they had discussed terms much different on the Beem.
"This lying bastard told us for thirty minutes," Wyva added, his right arm still extended, the crackling blue potential of a lightning discharge gathering on his fingertips.
Logun took the opportunity to give Wyva his attention. Quite frankly, the Alven looked like shit.
He was vibrating with built-up static, his skin covered with lacerations, his eyes wide and bloodshot from trying to track three simultaneous targets. He had overexerted himself in an attempt to keep up with a man several times his senior.
"Is that true Vanqis?" Logun asked then swallowed audibly. He could sense the spike in the energy come from the man.
"Oh, dear boy, you seem to be confused," the Shiear tilted his head then relaxed his frame, "This is my city. The truth is whatever I want it to be."
Vanqis didn't even telegraph the movement. One clone launched off the wall at breakneck speed, but before it could even connect,
Wyva saw it split in half. A fourth clone appeared, launching another attack in perfect synchronization.
Logun quickly sent it back and watched as the clone he slapped, was intercepted mid-air by another clone, the two of them essentially using each other to change vectors, turning a horizontal leap into a diagonal pounce.
"Allow us to leave and then I'll consider de-escalation," Logun sighed presenting an ultimatum.
Logun chuckled as he cracked his neck, "You are in no position to bargain."
________________________________________
Relik felt no better than a corpse.
The paralysis existed as a perfect cage of glass; only allowed to see his world unfurl infront of him.
He could feel every step vibrating through Veech's shoulder, the sharp bite of Iké rich air invading his nostrils, and the frantic, heavy thud of his own heart against his ribs. But his fingers were lead. His tongue was a stone in a well that seemed to be drying up by the minute.
From his vantage point, strapped to Veech, the world was a kaleidoscope of violence. He could feel his massive transport twist its frame mid-air, a jagged piece of the ceiling whistling past where Relik's head had been a second before.
He saw the white-and-orange blur of Vanqis's clones, moving like a glitch in reality, tearing through the pristine architecture of the Temple as if it were parchment. Only to get pulled out of the air by a flash of blue lightning.
All for me, the thought surfaced, cold and bitter.
Every explosion that rocked the foundations, every drop of blood Wyva spat onto the white marble, felt like a debt Relik hadn't asked for and could never repay. He watched Veech, a man who should have been mourning his brother, Gouti, risking his life to shield the very person who had watched that brother die.
I am a catalyst for catastrophe, Relik thought.
He drifted back to the Shink-Ra territory, back to the moment life was upended, to the faces of the teens who hadn't made it out. They were gone, their stories ended in the dirt.
And yet Relik would consider them the lucky ones. They didn't have to carry the burden of being the "most important piece of furniture on the continent." They didn't have to watch their betters tear a city apart just to keep them on a leash.
There was no upside to him surviving this.
If Logun succeeded in his defense they would still have to make a case against the Supreme Leader in Haraan. If Vanqis had his way, then he'd upgrade from second rate citizen to future cadaver.
If he had died in that military-style slaughter, Logun would still be a legendary Insinyur drinking in peace. Wyva would be chasing fame in Rému and Veech would get the chance to properly mourn his brother.
Relik's internal gaze flickered toward the direction of the lights, he'd felt something in the power grid. No not something. A conscience either a person or an intelligent rat on a wheel.
It almost spoke to him.
It was most unfortunate that none of this mattered, as overall he was as useful as loud flatulence.
His survivor's guilt served as a more effective paralysis than any drug Salaam could manufacture. It pinned him down, whispering that his survival wasn't a miracle, only a mistake that dragged others down with him.
He was an "Unmarked" void, a hole in the world that was currently sucking in everything and everyone he touched.
Let them go, he screamed into the silence of his own mind. Or at least let me go, so that I could do something about this. I'm not worth the city being burnt.
Outside, another explosion roared, and Relik watched a stray spark of Wyva's lightning ground itself inches from his eyes.
He didn't flinch.
He couldn't.
He just waited for the world to realize what he already knew; that the cost of Relik was becoming higher than any of them should pay.