I stare at the decapitated head in confusion. Is it an artifact or a creature? It's hard to tell from several dozen feet away. But the man holding it in the suit is shambling slowly and shiftily. He stumbles here or there despite there being nothing in his way. It's all quite odd.
Reading the manuals has been a reasonably high priority lately, doing so in between fights last night and during breaks to eat, but nothing like this man or the head in his hands was mentioned at all. I'd pull them out to check quickly because I have no one to save my ass if I fail, but I don't think the improved sneak will also remove that noise.
So instead, I wait a little bit longer and try to gather any information I can on the man and the thing he's carrying. To do so, I slowly activate Chain Eyes to get a read on the man's Sigil and whatever the head may be. Ether flows into the back of my eyes, and manacles appear in my vision. More than there should be.
The man is covered in red chains as he hobbles with a wobble. A 1st Sigil. On the other hand, the head he is carrying is the first time I've ever seen a nonliving thing with chains binding it besides the Bloody Palm. Wrapped in luminescent yellow chains, the head sways in the man's hand hanging from long hair. I feel a small connection to the head for some reason. It looks familiar, but I don't know how it could, though, as it's too far to see clearly.
But that's not all. On the other side of the man and a little bit ahead of him, I see two sprinkles of lights amongst the sandy dunes. Two other beings restrained in yellow lie in the sand, unseen. I only see the colors from them as they are not entirely engulfed in sand, and bits of them stick out. Enough for my eyes to pick up with Ether.
What's happening? There are three 3rd Sigils, a 2nd, and a 1st, all in the middle of the Bonedunes at a random time in the depths of night. Is there some discrete thing happening? I mean, the man is wearing a suit in the middle of the dunes. It's all so weird.
I choose to wait even longer and watch as the man hobbles ever closer to the two small glares of yellow in the nighttime sand. Each step he takes looks like a struggle and reminds me heavily of when I was in the darkness alone with the Bloody Palm. The hopeless yet defiant struggle to not be devoured. Every step felt like both a victory and a loss. Every foot moved meant you survived a little longer but were now closer to losing yourself.
Pity wells up within me for the man, and just before I stand to do something about it, the two figures cloaked in yellow ethereal steel emerge from the sand. In a burst of dust and debris, they both dash at the suited man holding his decapitated head. Their figures are blurred and incredibly fast, so fast I cannot see if they are even human at first.
But before they reach the over-dressed man, he turns toward them slightly, just enough for the light from the mouth of the decapitated head to touch them. With my eyes still activated by the Ether of Chain Eyes, I watch in amazement as the manacles around the figures grow in size and quantity.
Quickly, the two figures slow to a pace where I can clearly see them; they are two men clad in dark leather and covered in sand. The chain on their bodies only continues to grow and slows them from a bullet-like pace to that of a tortoise. Amongst the light, I can see panic and determination in the two men's eyes as they try to move against the force of the decapitated head.
How is that happening? Is the light creating chains? I thought that only Philosophers and their higher forms could interact with chains. Maybe I'm wrong. Or maybe… That head has the third Sigil of a Philosopher?!
I continue to ponder this as I watch the chains grow even more on the two men to the point where they are almost entirely engulfed by the yellow concept that binds them. Apparently, they aren't prepared for whatever is happening to them. They both scream at each other, trying to get the other to do something. I learn quite a bit from their sibling-like squabble.
"I thought you said this was an easy heist?! What the fuck is this?! Why can't we fucking move?!"
"It's the damned head! I didn't think it'd be this strong."
"What do YOU MEAN?! It's a fucking skull-type artifact! Those are like the fucking strongest! I thought you said it was a hair type!?"
"It was supposed to be! The information was off! Is there anything you can do?!"
"No, you dumbass! I can't even move my fucking arm. I shouldn't have let you gather information! You're not ready yet!"
"That's not true! The guys I got the info from must have been told the wrong thing!"
"Wrong things, my ass! Use your damn Ether; all my skills are up close, you dunce!"
"Ugh… Fine, but you're paying for the painkillers, and you take care of Aron this time."
"No! You either do this, or we die! Why would I take your chores?"
"FINE!"
During the whole argument, I just listened silently and learned a lot. I already knew some of it, like how artifacts made from hearts, skulls, and the like, are much more potent than most. But I didn't know hair could be turned into an artifact; I wonder how having an artifact of hair would work.
I also make the connection for the first time that other people cannot see the chains that bind them. To these two men, it must look like they are frozen or grappled by something invisible. For a moment, I wonder how they would escape this without slowly dying from their restraints, but they prove their 3rd Sigil statuses.
The conversation ends with a metaphorical bang as the man on the right, who in the light appears to be a little bit shorter but dressed identically to the man beside him, makes a small finger gun and mimics a bullet being fired. It looks like a child's imagination, but an adult effect happens.
A loud bang resounds as a burst of bright light emerges from the leathered man's finger and slams into the knee of the suited man with a blinding flash. The flash is so powerful that I am forced to spend a few seconds blinking out the light before I can see the outcome. While still blind, what I hear is boots upon sand once more.
The suited man now rests on a single knee as the one hit with the flash of light appears to be sizzling and charred like an overcooked chicken. The light from the lantern moves slightly as he falls to the point that it now only covers the man who did the finger gun of light. The other man, narrowly taller but also dressed in robust shady leather, sprints at the suited man as fast as he can, shadows twisting and turning beneath his feet with every step he takes.
The chains encasing the man have not yet faded, but they have stopped growing, as it seems he is using Ether to boost his power and speed to make it to the lantern head. Every time the shadows beneath him shimmer, he moves quicker. Rapidly he nears the man with the head of a lantern in his hand.
But before he does, the man with the luminescent head looks at him with unnatural calmness. Then, before the gaze of the suited man, the man, aided by shadows, freezes for a moment. An instant solely long enough for the lantern to be moved to engulf both of them again.
I watch for a little longer as I hear the two attempt to bicker again.
"Vernon! Use another Lightshot!"
"I-I-I C-c-a-a-n-n-t-t-t"
"Fuck! You're never doing recon again!"
The one who is obviously Vernon is so tightly wrapped in chains that he can barely speak. This lantern head's power is incredible. It's able to freeze a 3rd Sigil in under twenty seconds. Of course, the light must stay on them, but it is still full of hazardous might. The cost of it must be ludicrous.
After all, the man holding it just appears to be a puppet, moving only to the machinations of the head. The machinations are temporarily disrupted as the other man, Vernon's companion, the frustrated one, grunts in the effort as an egg of inky darkness grows to cover him.
Like floating rivers of sandy darkness, tendrils of black emerge from the ground and attempt to tear away at the man's surroundings to no avail. The man's grunts grow to pained screams as the Ether spikes, and I can sense it even from here as the tendrils double, then triple in number before even a slight improvement is made.
Bits and pieces of chains are slowly rotted and ground away. But it's not enough. The man certainly cannot keep this rate of Ether up for long. Just the fact that I can feel the Ether moving in the air from a few dozen feet away speaks volumes of the power he is using. It must be his 3rd Sigil skill.
Despite the fatal position these two men are in, I just continue to watch. I've learned my lesson from speaking to others in the wild. Only once do I need to get a hand removed to remember what happens when you interact with people when there are no consequences besides failure to win a fight?
Something rapidly changes my mind, though, and shows me that not all men out here are immoral. I hear curses exit the mouth of the man fighting for his life as his speech slows down from the weight of his restraints.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not like this. Sis' sti-l-l n-e-e-d-s u-u-s-s…"
Fuck. I got from his words that they're fighting for a sister, and I've made one too many sisters brotherless. If this bites me in the ass, though, I'll never help anyone in the wild again. That I promise.
And so I get up from my prone position and stealthily move toward the suited man with the decapitated lantern. Before I do so, though, I gracefully place down my pack with Dakota in it; I don't want him to get hurt. He seems to understand and just watches from the pack. Sand noiselessly moves beneath my feet as I swiftly close the distance between us. Then as I near the man, I draw both of my daggers.
The two daggers leave their sheathes just as I get close enough to strike, and the ring of steel sounds the alarm for the man as he tries to turn as quickly as his zombie-like movement can. During this motion, I see the eyes of Vernon, the man with the fingers of light, and the other man with a body of shadow, light up with hope.
I attempt to prove their hope as I stab both serpentine daggers into the back of the suited man's neck. They sink in as smoothly as they would if they were cutting butter, but no blood exits the puppet of a man. Instead, he just continues to turn and steps backward with a shamble.
As he turns, the light leaves Vernon and touches me. Instantly, I can see my chains tighten and grow in quantity. It feels as if I were to Daydream, but if the weakening aspect of it were ten times stronger and only grew more powerful over time. I push through the opening effects of the light, though, and rip my daggers out in lateral motions, trying to deal as much damage as possible to the man. Since neck damage didn't do the trick, I figured that trying to remove his head would work.
It worked at first.
All that happens is that my daggers cross on the inside of his neck and cut his spine in half and the remainder of his neck in one motion. Then, his head rolls off as his body loses balance and falls backward. A sense of victory enters my body when the head smacks against the ground loudly.
But quickly, the sense fades as the chains upon me just continue to tighten. I see that the man's body fell in such a way that the light from the lantern of a head now touches all three of us in at least some way. It gets me in my left leg, Vernon's entire body, and the third man, whose name I do not yet know, in his right leg.
It's hard to tell if the area of light that touches someone even matters as we all three are rapidly entombed by chains. The situation rapidly turns terrible as I stand under the light for just a few seconds. I try to take a Strugglers Gasp, but it doesn't work. The chains are too heavy for me to fill my lungs wholly.
Instead, I go for a substitute, probably not the best idea, but the only one I can think of. I release my almost eternal Daydream against the Bloody Palm's corruption. Then, I pivot the Daydream and have it dream of my lungs filling with Ether. This immediately works and allows me to fill my lungs.
I do so. I fill them with the deepest Strugglers Gasp so far. It seems as though my lung capacity for my gasp increased since my Sigil's evolution as the air within several dozen feet collapses in on itself. All the Ether in that entire volume of air compresses and enters my system like a much-needed flood after years of drought.
I force the Ether to enter and combat the growing chains and make them regress. Ether is not all that joins me, though. So do the murmurs of the Bloody Palm, but for now, I can push them aside and focus on the situation's severity despite the shadows that eat at my vision.
It works, but only partially. The orange manacles that bind me stop growing and shrink slightly, but the pressure on my lungs grows exponentially as the two forces fight against each other. I will lose this contest of wills. And fast.
To not lose steam and turn into an orange carrot of chains, I force my body to move despite the weight upon it. It is difficult. Very, very difficult. Like carrying a boulder up a mountain just to take a single step. But I have to do so, and as fast as I can. I feel my lungs rapidly reaching their limit. The Ether from my gasp and the light going to war inside and outside my body.
I could only hold this standstill for under ten seconds, but within those ten seconds, I get close, very close to the decapitated head, before I can no longer keep up the clash of Ether within me. Close enough for a final act as my lungs touch their breaking point. Just before they burst and make me either explode or implode from a clash of Ether, I push the Ether within my lungs out.
And out comes defiance as every other time, but this one is much more enunciated. A tempest exits my lungs and flows out of my mouth into the outside world. This tempest hits the decapitated head and sends it flying through the dunes dozens of feet. Freeing the three of us from the binding light.
Even after the light leaves us, we are still bound by ourselves. And, the weakness of Strugglers Gasp's aftereffects enters me like a kick to the nuts. I never had the luxury of feeling what it's like when it ends. I usually just fall unconscious from wounds soon after it ends. I think I prefer that.
Extreme nausea and sickness run rampant through my body like the Ether that just did. And much of that Ether remains, leaving me with a pounding headache and a firm warning. I must be cautious when I use it. Because the other times, I have been fortunate. One, I barely made it out of acute Ether sickness alive, and the other, I immediately evolved my Sigil, saving my ass before my body collapsed from Ether oversaturation.
But my nausea can only grow as I cannot expel it in any way because, for the next two minutes, both the unnamed man in leather and I are frozen in place by our colorful chains. While still bound, I deactivate the flow for Chain Eyes and rapidly reactivate Daydream to guard against the Bloody Palm. The whispers are only adding to my nausea and headache. Yet, I can't see my surroundings to witness how the palm affects my vision besides just the static peripherals because my face is pointed toward the ground.
Eventually, though, the binds slowly loosen. The unnamed man and I fall face-first into the sand, both not expecting the sudden release. I hear his laughter and excitement at surviving as I empty my stomach into the dunes.
"Haha! We're alive! Thank you, man! You're our savior! I don't know how you did it, but you did!"
I nod between heaves, and he notices my situation.
"Oh man, that's rough. Sorry if helping us did that to you, I'd introduce myself, but I need to check on Vernon first. He got hit with that petrifying light really bad."
I hear his feet shuffle in the direction of the other man as I try to recover from my gasp. It takes a long time for me to get the chance to remove myself from the ground and stand. While I do so, I hear several coughs and chokes from Vernon, the man on the soil still affected by the chains. It sounds like he couldn't breathe the whole time he was confined.
When I eventually stand after my recovery with shaky feet, I see the two men inspecting the head, careful not to enter its light.
They both notice me standing and walk over to me under the moonlit night. Then, they introduce themselves at the exact same time, confusing and distracting me.
"Heya, I'm Vernon. Thanks for saving us! How'd you do it?!"
"Hi, I'm Virgil, this chipper man's older brother. I appreciate the backup; we don't get much of that in the wild."