Deathbound Chapter 3.1

Fenrir snoozed softly in his iron bed, steel-haired head nestled in his arm. Murmuring, he pawed at the air, kicking out sporadically. A thin line of drool ran down the corner of his mouth.

That noise was a nuisance, though. Blaring in the distance as though to signal something important. Fenrir growled a bit before falling deeper into his fuzzy darkness.

“Sir! Sir!”

Fenrir groaned, lashing out sleepily with one hand. A terrified scream traveled across the room, followed by a flying crash of metal and glass. And all set to that ever-present, ever-louder, red noise that filled his head like an obnoxious alarm clock.

Hm. An alarm.

Fenrir jolted upright, eyes flying open. The surveillance room was painted blood-red by alarm lights, while sirens screeched darkly all across the base. Embedded in a security monitor across from him was a twitching, gaping Shinji.

“What’s going on here?” he roared, leaping to the pawn and shaking his collar.

“Intruders,” breathed Shinji, wide-eyed and hyperventilating from shock. “Two of them.”

“Dammit,” Fenrir seethed, drawing the sword handle from his belt. “Where are they?”

“W-wait, sir!” Shinji dragged his rump free from the screen’s glass clutches. “These intruders - they’re like nobody we’ve ever seen before! Nobody except Siegfried and…” He trailed off, eyes going even wider. “You.”

The wolfman gave a razor-sharp grin. “Well, there you go. I suggest you chumps evacuate the base, regroup a few hundred yards away.” Punching a clenched fist forward, he ripped his bed into liquid, drawing it back to his blade. But this time, metal rippled up from the floor and walls, swirling up his sword handle from all sides, until Fenrir was holding a twelve-foot pillar of steel in his hands. Swinging it around, he blasted a hole in the wall, opening a window to the chaotic scene outside.

“After all,” he said, hefting the enormous sword onto his shoulder. “I don’t plan to leave anything alive.” He tossed a grin back at the pawn, then leaped out the window, yelling as he swung the sword above his head, crashing through the midnight air.

The earth ruptured as the rook slammed his sword into the ground, quaking the entire outpost. The Deathbound troops fighting were knocked off their feet, leaving only one other person standing in the dust-blown battlefield. Incidentally, this person was the intruder.

The green-haired boy bounced up and down on the ground, grinning incessantly. “Well, well, well!” he said, leaning forward, rubbing his chin. “Someone skipped leg day!”

Fenrir growled, hoisting the giant blade again to thrust crudely. The boy stepped aside quickly, letting the metal pillar barrel past.

“So, you’re probably wondering who I am, where I came from, etcetera so on,” the boy said, leaning on the sword. As Fenrir slashed again, he leaped into the air, green wind sparkling around him. This time he landed catlike on the blade, skating effortlessly down the edge towards the wolfman.

He crouched at the handle, looking Fenrir in the eye. “After your long wait, the hero arrives in a burst of wind! I’m Sylpher, though you should probably call me as the bards will sing!” Grinning, he spun at lightning speed, kicking Fenrir in the side of the head. As the wolfman flew aside, the boy dropped to the ground, fingers splayed in a triumphant pose. “Call me Sylpher the Great!”

Fenrir dropped his sword as he tumbled in the dirt, rolling out of control like a giant ball of muscle. Whirling to his feet, he skidded backwards, kicking up a cloud of dust. Panting slightly, he raised his forearms in a guarded stance.

His neck hair stood on end, and he immediately lashed out behind him, roaring. The man behind him leaned backwards, letting the blow sweep by his lapels. Unfazed, the man raised a hand forward, fingers tightly flexed. “Aqua Drive,” he said.

A jetstream of liquid gunned into Fenrir’s chest, blasting him backwards with agonizing force and a scream.

Sylpher whistled as the wolfman tumbled over the earth towards him, limbs askew. “And you told me to hold back,” he muttered.

Up became down as Fenrir rolled, white lights dancing wildly through his vision. His head hit a rock, another rock, a third rock, before coming to a halt in the middle of the field. His body slumped to the ground, a groan escaping his chest.

The teal-haired boy leaned over him, backlit by the bright lamps. “Anything you wanna say right now? You know, to establish your evilness?”

Fenrir just winced in pain, clenching his fist, letting out a heavy, putrid breath. Sylpher pinched his nose, waving it away. “Know what, that’ll do,” he quipped.

The wolfman batted his fist in a low arc, not even reaching Sylpher’s face. The boy raised an eyebrow. “What’re you…”

“Sylpher! Behind you!”

Sylpher yelped as Fenrir’s giant blade flew towards him, spinning violently. Leaping high, he barely cleared the copter of steel as it shredded through the end of his scarf.

Laughing, Fenrir sat up, swinging his hand again. The sword boomeranged back towards Sylpher, shearing over him as he doubled up. It impaled itself into the ground beside Fenrir, and he grabbed the handle, pulling himself to his feet.

The water user lunged from the shadows, unleashing a maelstrom from his outstretched hand. Fenrir pulled the iron from his blade, crafting a metal shield that caught the blow head-on. The stream’s impact was still wild and jarring, and the relentless torrent bashed and bashed against him. After a moment of silence, Fenrir lowered the shield from his face.

The water user, a tall man of asian looks, straightened his cuffs, walking over to the boy. Thin-framed glasses adorned his face, while his suit jacket was the shade of the deep sea, a murky indigo.

“Sylpher,” he said, “I believe that will suffice as a demonstration. From here on out, I’ll do the talking.”

“Already? Can’t we use the fusion attack, Kaiser?”

“Sylpher, this is our introduction. A fusion attack would be redundant.”

“Fine…”

“Well then.” The man called Kaiser adjusted his glasses, preening immaculately. “Hello, Director Fenrir Wolfram, Rook of Iron. Apologies for our intrusion. I am an ambassador of a new order of Deathbound, aiming solely to usurp and overthrow the current government in the name of the true King.”

“What?” Fenrir grinned at the ludicrous statement. “You can’t overthrow Siegfried, moron. You’re a Deathbound too, right? Siegfried changed our directives to serve him.” Jabbing a finger at the man, he chuckled cruelly. “Basically, what you’re doing here is the most pathetic suicide I’ve ever seen. Not that I won’t help you along! Hahahaha...”

His guile was withered when the man smiled thinly. “My name is Shimizu Kaiser,” he stated. “My model is Queen. My directive: Install Tara Caesar as the ruler of the world.”

When Fenrir’s jaw dropped, he continued. “As I was saying, Director, I’m here to offer you a choice. Join us to depose the foolish regime of Siegfried, or have a very, very bad night indeed.”

“You,” The accusing finger shook, spasms breaking across the wolfman’s entire body. “You’re a Queen Model?!” he exclaimed.

Kaiser touched two fingers to his forehead, sighing. “Why does everyone get so hung up on - yes, I’m a Queen Model. We can’t lie about these things; as you so kindly pointed out, Deathbound are bound by their nature.” His scowl exuded a gentleman’s annoyance.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just-” A scoff escaped his lips, and Fenrir erupted into laughter, clutching his sides and doubling over, shaking. “A Queen Model! Neferia I understand, but you? What part of you is anything close to a queen?”

Sylpher cocked his turquoise-haired head. “You know, in this day and age you really shouldn’t-”

“Sylpher.” The boy was cut off with a sharp wave of the hand. Exhaling softly, Kaiser pushed his glasses up so they caught the light and shone. “As I said, I’ll do the talking.”

The Queen of Water raised his hand, staring coldly at Fenrir. “Drown.”