endbook rogue 4 3 2

The guerrillas found several towering hills. Atop them they hammered stakes until they hit bedrock. Between the stakes, they raised a giant dust shield woven from complex textiles, covering the entirety of the area, before finally placing all their vehicles, equipment, and the like in the space between the hills. This was a safe camp for them. They had their ways of reducing how much the growing Originium clusters disturbed them.

Nymph has spent the past few days locked inside in a car under their giant awning.

'Lemuen and Grrovae'zeeal have been protesting my treatment of you from the start. I admit, I was too cautious.'

The white-haired Feline says so calmly. Nymph hasn't asked her name, but knows this is 'Kal'tsit'. She's a near-perfect match to the vivid description given to her by the revenants.

'I have no reason to believe you have told any significant lies these last few days, so we have decided that, for the time being, you may freely walk around our camp. All we ask is that you do not leave.'

Nymph quickly seizes the opportunity to ask the question that's been plaguing her this whole time:

'Can I ask what happened to my friends who were with me?'

'...Of the people in your group who were granted protection, you are the only one we know the whereabouts of.' Kal'tsit pauses and furrows her brow before continuing. 'What I mean is, during a period of inattention on our part, they seem to have disappeared.'

This is another reason we went to such measures to detain you, she adds.

'Then why am I still here...?' Did the revenants not want to leave? It has been days since she last heard the voice of her ancestors, though.

'We can hazard a guess based on what we understand of you from these past few days.'

For the first time, Nymph thinks she sees a wisp of haze flit across Kal'tsit's vibrant green eyes.

'You are a point that does not require self-reference. You will not lose yourself in the plains of decision.'

Before the Djall can ask what this means, the shouting of the sentinels interrupts them.

'Automatons—!'

Kal'tsit leaps away, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

At first, Nymph stares blankly ahead before snapping out of it and following Kal'tsit. The guerrillas are running pell-mell to their posts. She stumbles among the crowd, running out from under the awning, just in time to see a smoking brass drone crash into the ground.

Next, someone yanks her into the shadow of an Originium cluster, muffling her cries of pain with their hand.

It's Kal'tsit. Her other hand grips a greatsword. On the other side of the narrow trail leading out, the black monster that listens only to her crouches by the crystalline fork in the path across from them.

Several new drones fly through the sky. It appears there is no one left under the awning.

'They're in directional search protocol formation, but there are far too few of them.' Kal'tsit tilts her head, quietly talking into the transceiver on her shoulder. 'Yes, it must have something to do with her, but it's most likely the work of one person. That, or they want to negotiate.'

Part of Nymph is thinking that she doesn't understand a word of what was said, while another part realizes the Feline still has an iron grip on her arm.

'Knock them down to send a message, but wait for them to show themselves first.'

The moment she speaks, the drones seem to suddenly stop in midair before falling to the ground.

After a short while, long enough for Nymph to think the alarm should have stopped by now, Kal'tsit rushes out from their hiding place like an arrow. Soon after, there is the sound of steel against steel.

No, it is the sound of one giant object clashing into another.

Kal'tsit jumps up, slamming her weapon into the raised shield of her opponent. With a shout, her servant, the monster with the sickle-shaped claws, slithers its way towards the exposed weak points of the shieldbearer's armor. At nearly the same time, a pink shadow leaps to the peak of the clusters behind Kal'tsit's enemy, quiet lightning erupting from the tip of the slender object in their hand.

But in the next moment, the shieldbearer—Nymph can now clearly see that he is a gun-knight clad in silver and white—swats away the sword-wielding Feline while holding down the monster with his foot. With his free right hand, he catches the etched ammunition flying at him from behind.

'I am unarmed. I came here to talk, not to battle.'

'...We'll need to confirm that first.'

The guerrillas appear from between the clusters and the hills, all manner of weapons aimed at the gun-knight.

'Is he telling the truth, Lemuen?'

As soon as Kal'tsit speaks, the pink-haired Teekaz jumps down from the crystal. The halo atop her head wobbles, as though it cannot keep up.

'The Reverend Gun-Knight tells no lies, it seems.'

The angel waves her hand towards the camp, and the crowd scatters.

'Would you like some tea, Reverend? Maybe some cookies? Not that we have any though.'

'No need. Dame Kal'tsit.'

'Yes?'

'His Holiness would like to meet that comrade of yours.'

'And if I refuse?'

'He said prolonging the matter would harm both sides. You should know this.'

'...'

'His Holiness guarantees this meeting's goal is not to grant her revelation.'

Buldrokkas'tee pauses for a moment.

'I will also guarantee her safety.'