Chapter 19: Nightfall Infiltration
It was a heavy night weighing over the Abyssal Sect's central fortress, thick mist clung to the rough stone walls blanketing it in complete darkness. Echo crouched down on a crumbling parapet with his dagger out, examining the winding structure below. Every flickering torch, every shadow, every small fragment of movement in the air foretold of danger. He was aware the core of the sect and Soso were buried deep inside, but the distance drag was littered with traps and enemies.
"Stealth first, precision next. Everything must be a perfect motion--no mistakes allowed"
Echo slipped down in near silence, using the shadows cast by broken battlements as cover.
The outer courtyards were heavily armed, fortified by enforcers in elite armor that captured and detected most attempts at motion.
Magical sensors shimmered faintly across the ground--glyphs designed to track and note anything carrying weight, heat and magical energy.
He regulated his breathing, making sure his Overdrive pulses remained constant and small so he would not trigger a detection.
He drew up behind a statue of a hooded humanoid, observing two guards on patrol. Controlling their steps, he rolled forward low and fast, sliding under a swinging glyph that would have blown him away upon activation.
A swift strike to the knee of the first guard knocked him to the ground, as the second guard turned around, Echo vaulted over a low wall, landing behind him and unleashing a flurry of martial arts kicks and punches. They slumped quietly down into the shadows, unsure of what had just occurred.
"Move like a shadow, strike like a ghost."
The inside of the fortress unfolded into a zig-zag of hallways, walls lined with wards, the stone-covered walls pulsing softly with magic.
Echo scanned the walls for some kind of tell: a faint glow in the stone, tiny symbols placed along the walls.
He memorized the pads of the wards, their patterns and the timing of their pulses so he could create a path which did not expose him.
With the use of walls, decay, and ceilings, Echo skipped and rolled while mixing stealth and efficiency into a rhythm of movement that appeared effortless.
A flicker of light signaled a trap: some kind of glyph on the ground ahead.
A single false step could unleash a deadly pulse. Thank fully, his keen observation and highly tuned reflexes aided him in timing his roll low and hooking the glyph with his dagger, clearing it safely.
Every motion was precise, an impeccable timing of thought, skill and body control.
He stepped into a large central hall with a high ceiling and enchanted blue torches lining its walls.
Dancing shadows skittered along the walls, a perfect place to hide. Still, magical sensors registered movement and human warmth.
Echo used the edges of his concealment effectively, blending into the darkness, effortlessly spinning and vaulting through the open areas.
Several enforcers sensed him darting past, but it was impossible for them to track him due to his timing and special reflex-enhancing Overdrive.
The inner most line of defenders appeared: three elite guards armed with daggers, each with minor magical enhancements.
Echo evaluated spacing and timing of movement, patterns for striking and defending.
Dropping down from a raised platform, Echo used gravitational momentum to spin, striking the first guard across the shoulder while also landing behind the second guard.
He neutralized both, almost instantly, with a quick series of strikes to the guards pressure points, without using any stealthy, noisy techniques.
Before the third guard could even close the distance to sound an alarm, Echo executed a backflip, throwing his dagger into the his body.
"To me precision is magic. Agility is my shield."
The corridors narrowed again, fuzzy, glowing conduits ran along the walls that framed the passage.
These conduits operated as detection networks, connected to alarms and defensive spells.
Echo dropped his center of gravity, concentrating on each coordinated movement. Using walls and debris to hide from sight and the conduits.
Small acrobatic rolls allowed him to pass safely under the magical recycler and avoidance cascade, without contacting or activating them.
For a moment he entered a chamber of traps trapped out like a puzzle.
Sequences of arcane symbols activated, gentle swings of blades, bursts of flame, and concussive force, each waiting for the inattentive.
Echo tracked the rhythm, each pulse containing its own pattern. Echo flipped, wall-vaulted, and then struck with dagger-like precision; everything he did was timed to perfection amid the deadly array.
In the inner courtyard, Echo saw the center structure that held the ritual chamber.
A faint ebb of magical energy bled outward, echoing with every step, and cast long shadows in the courtyard.
Patrols moved in sync with patterns of energy pulse warning the hidden wards of any breaches.
Echo crouched behind a crumbling barricade, envisioning his navigation—a series of shadows, perfectly timed leaps, was prepared for additional strikes in the case of capture.
"One step closer… every shadow, every breath, every heartbeat brings me to you, Soso."
The inner defenses were a different level of risk.
Elite enforcers protected each other, and the sonic wards made redundancies to add another layer of protection.
He relied on his agility, acrobatics, and hand-to-hand precision to eliminate any threat without a sound.
Rolling under a low slash, vaulting over another swing, twisting in mid-air to strike at his opposition's pressure points. All leisure in his movements and his anticipation and instinctive reaction made for seamless execution.
He finally acquired a vantage point near the channel leading into the ritual chamber recognized as the center structure of the courtyard.
The sonic wards toasted a lattice work of deadly energy, ebbing and flowing to the sacred rhythm of the ritual that was poised to commence.
The guards beneath him utilized movement patterns that would have trapped almost anyone else, but Echo's eyes and Overdrive instincts anticipated every movement.
Shadows, walls, and trash turned into allies for the trajectory of the last approach.
"Here we go... pull off nightfall infiltration. The last stage begins now. I will save you Soso... I promise."
He crouched low with a dagger in hand, muscles coiled, and Overdrive pulses just beneath the surface of him.
Every calculation, every observation, every way he moved silently was preparation for the final confrontation.
Up ahead, the central ritual chamber was an end to all trials, traps, and battles - the final opportunity to free Soso.
Taking a calming breath, he melted into the shadows, expecting whatever was coming on the inside, advancing while cloaked within the heart of the Abyssal Sect.