Chapter One Hundred Seventeen: Bone Ash Blood Catastrophe
Section One: Dark Surge in Ashen Valley
Iron Valley's night eclipsed firelight. At the ruins' edge, the shattered command tower lay buried in sand, blood oozing from cracks—slow, viscous, reeking like a corpse's dying vomit.
Maria crouched behind corpse mounds, blade sliding into armor seam, silent. Wei leaned on a broken wall, rope coiled, blood dripping, tapping sand like a death knell. Jason stood before blood, calm, fingers tracing code tag, cracks glinting, mirroring broken bones. Converts lined, blades low, dust-coated, death's taut strings.
Firelight faded, sand swirled, night torn, blood's sickly sweetness blending with charred rot.
Deep in ruins, tower rubble quaked, ripples spreading, blood rippling, marrow's faint gasp.
Maria's eyes sharpened, blade tilting. Wei spat blood-flecked foam, hoarse grin: "It's moving."
Jason stood still, watching sand, dust parting cracks.
Sand burst. A black figure erupted—Scarmark Brigade's shadow squad. Lean, black-wrapped faces, armor clinging to flesh, guns low, blades concealed, gray-dead eyes beneath masks.
Dozen-strong, silent—snakes, venom, unyielding rot-bone.
Maria signaled, converts scattered. Wei's rope knot slid into palm.
Jason's gaze steady, code tag in blood, cracks wet, faint pulse: "Dark bones—burn them all."
Shadow squad charged, blades slicing thunder. First assassin lunged at Maria, her step shifting, blade slashing—armor seam cut, blood blooming. Assassin's neck snapped, blood spraying sand, crimson flower.
Second grazed Wei, blade at ribs. Wei spun, rope snaring wrist, yanking—crack, bone shattered, blade flying. Rope coiled neck, snapped.
Jason advanced, blade drawn. Assassin's knife flashed throatward. Jason blocked, armor splitting, blood seeping, blade piercing heart, drawn clean.
Converts wove, blades clashing black steel, sparks and blood flying, bone cracking, flesh tearing, blood ribboning armor seams.
Sand muddied, blood surged. Shadow corpses piled, yet they fought fiercer, lunging in death, cornered dogs.
Maria's blade felled three. Wei's rope snapped necks. Jason pressed, blade reaping all.
Then, ruins' far side flickered. From tower depths, a heavier shadow emerged.
Scarmark's core—final leader. Full steel armor, black furnace, shoulder bearing charred brigade flag, nailed fast. Chain-saw axe in hand, rusted, teeth grinding, ear-shredding buzz.
He stepped, sand quaking, alone, bone refusing death, craving hunters' end.
Maria eyed him, blade raised. Wei's rope slid palm. Jason squinted, low: "Bone Lord."
Scarmark's Bone Lord advanced, axe dragging, nails tearing flag, trailing blood-mud. No words, blood-stench heavier than speech.
Maria reversed blade. Wei's rope tightened, end at ankle. Converts arrayed, blades low, cold glint.
Jason stood, gaze dissecting self-dug corpse, whispering: "Kill bone, birth fire."
Firelight lit sand, blood, corpses, Bone Lord wading mud. Sand flowed, dead breath. Chain-saw axe roared, teeth spinning. Scarmark's last stand began.
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Section Two: Chain-Axe Splits Skull
Iron Valley's night crushed down. Sand flowed, blood surged, firelight danced on charred corpses, dead hearts pulsing. Scarmark's Bone Lord, armor grinding sand, axe biting earth, steps sinking pits. No slogans, no orders—brigade's dignity burned to moving iron bone, himself its frame.
Maria stood, blade at wrist, half-crouched, eyes knifing prey's last breath. Wei's rope circled arm, knee tapping sand, poised for flaw. Jason twelve meters from Bone Lord, gaze abyss-calm, code tag pulsing in blood, guiding fire to cleanse bone-land.
"You killed my brother," Bone Lord growled, voice iron crashing, throat raw. Maria, flat: "Who?"
"Mark Leeson. His head's in waste pool." Bone Lord's eyes burned, no tears, rage.
Jason, calm: "He shot first."
Bone Lord's iron teeth clanged, grinning: "So? We rob, kill, climb skulls to live. You kill us, fair. I kill you, justice."
He roared, chain-saw axe igniting—clack-clack—teeth shredding air. Iron beast, axe slashing, blood-mud wave at Jason.
Jason sidestepped, axe grazing ear, smashing blood. Boom—sand exploded, corpses flew, bones soaring.
Maria lunged, blade at rib seam—ding—deflected, sparks flying. Bone Lord's elbow smashed, Maria dodged, shoulder struck, grunting, stumbling.
Wei's rope snared axe wrist, yanking—"Hah!" Bone Lord unmoved, flinging Wei, rope cutting palm.
"You don't get it," Bone Lord rasped. "We crawled from corpses, not for pretty lives, but to stop begging. You fire-dogs, faith's fake—post-war, you'll burn the weak!"
He swung, boom-boom-boom—three sweeps, blood, corpses, armor flying. Two converts' chests torn, vomiting blood.
Maria pressed, left blade guarding neck, right stabbing armpit. Bone Lord roared, axe blocking, knocking Maria, shoulder shattering, sliding meters.
Jason advanced, eyes ice, blade spinning, calculating lethal strike.
Wei rose, spitting blood, low: "Old dog's got bite."
Jason glanced up: "Now."
Maria rolled, shoulder dislocated, teeth clenched, blade raised, distracting. Wei's rope lashed leg.
Bone Lord roared, kicking Maria, blade at Wei—but Jason moved.
Wind-swift, blade low, not heart, throat—slashing thigh joint's armor gap, sole weakness.
Snick—blade tore flesh. Bone Lord bellowed, too late. Jason spun, blade prying—crack—femur snapped.
Bone Lord knelt, armor crashing, dust rising. Maria leapt, blade plunging shoulder seam, blood gushing. Wei's rope strangled throat.
Bone Lord coughed blood, eyes red: "I die, you think you'll live?"
Jason crouched, blade at heart seam, meeting gray eyes: "Life, death—your concern's gone."
Blade pierced. Bone Lord shuddered, eyes dimming, collapsing.
Scarmark's last Bone Lord died under axe, before Fire Trust.
Firelight gleamed corpse, armor crumpled, axe still, broken tombstone. Blood flowed, staining sand.
Maria sat, shoulder limp, gasping. Wei leaned on rope, ribs cracked, silent. Jason sheathed, code tag pulsing, lighting steel corpse: "Bone dies. Fire born."
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Section Three: Gray Fire Cremates Bone
Bone Lord lay in blood, corpse on broken chain-saw axe, half-mudded, half fire-lit, rusted limb. Armor cracks bled, delaying death, questioning: "We… lost?"
Converts stood silent at sand's edge, blood-soaked, blades chipped, faces blood-flecked, flesh-strewn. Survivors, not victors.
Maria sat, eyes red, throat choked, shoulder reset, arm trembling. Wei leaned on iron, clutching rib wound, gaze dead. Jason amid Bone Lord's corpse, scattered armor, guts spilling. Silent, he drew unnumbered core shard, fingers tracing fading memory.
Scarmark corpses swayed. A convert moved to collect, Wei slapped: "Let them rot. They died as what they became."
Maria rose, hoarse: "Burn them. Too cold."
Fire ignited—not corpses, but old Scarmark-tortured code tags—water cells, fire pits, war chains. ARGUS read signals, no commands, whispers:
"Return dad's belt…"
"She'd sing again…"
"It hurts…"
"Bury me by yellowstone…"
"…Fire shouldn't be cold."
Cremation platform rose, tower beams, cores staked. Maria tossed chain-saw axe, iron wailed. Wei lit fire, wind fanning blood-line flames, licking corpses. Gray fire burned.
Code tags hung, ARGUS pulsing mournful frequencies, cores whispering: "You stopped crushing us."
Jason silent till flames rose three feet: "Codes don't know men. Fire remembers self-burners."
Converts doffed helmets, no salute, no kneel, watching corpses ash, bone, forgotten.
ARGUS logged: "Fire Trust Code Record: Scarmark Final Cremation · Executed. Meme Feedback: Gray Fire Mourning Accepted. Code Frequency Emotion Surge: High."
Fuxi: "Fire isn't clean. It dirties to know pain."
Fire burned, sand iron, blood bone-dry. Iron Valley reeked bloodfire.
Far, Sentinel Union scout muttered: "They dared burn." Another, lips cracked: "If we burn, will we get marked?"
No laughter. Fire burned Scarmark, Iron Valley's old rules.
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Section Four: Blood Guillotine
Flames didn't fully consume Scarmark. Three minutes after pit collapse, rear camp erupted with high-frequency shockwave—Scarmark's B-team logistics, bursting from reserve tunnels.
ARGUS lagged, warning one second post-assault: "B-team delayed 8 seconds, path evaded beacon. Detected 7 Ironstep Shock Axes, 9 Chaindrive Armors."
"Heavy armor!" Wei roared over comms. Before words faded, three chaindrives leapt, ground thundering. One pilot, face welded mesh, red eye glinting, smashed Fire Trust's second line, hook-axe bisecting a soldier.
"Guillotine squad!" Maria shouted, drawing short-range heat shell, knocked down by shockwind. Scarmark's remnants weren't fleeing—they came to bleed.
"Guard cores! Don't scatter! They're after codes!" Jason ordered ARGUS flank, drawing blade.
Not war's extension—faith's final hammer.
Scarmark remnants charged, leaderless mad wolves, targeting code stations. ARGUS warned: "Codes D32, C14, F02 exposed. Core temps rising, stability dropping."
Jason grabbed F02's frequency line, dragging to cover. A chain-axe grazed spine, half-second shy. ARGUS: "Main control attack missed, error 3.7cm."
Error irrelevant. Scarmark didn't aim to win—to ruin all.
"They'll drag us and codes to blood," Wei hissed, hurling thunder-axe, lodging in chaindrive's axle, exploding, pilot's ribs honeycombed.
"Can't hold! More—" Boom. Left flank roared—Scarmark's final trap, blast-box mine in code station tunnel. Walls collapsed, metal storm rising. Code D32 lost frequency shield, exposed.
Code spasmed, chaotic frequency, ARGUS graph twisting, red-flickering: "Code neural disorder."
Maria roared: "Block it! Use bodies!" Four Fire Trust soldiers leapt, shields and flesh arcing barricade. Chain-axe severed one's arm, unyielding, blood-mouthed: "Codes can't see us retreat. They'll lose heart."
Jason reached D32, slamming into backup frequency slot. Code stabilized, heart calming. ARGUS: "D32 stabilized, Faith chain restored."
"Tuqing?" Jason asked.
"West line, not back!"
Chaindrives fought, one falling per charge, pressure relentless. Wei ordered: "Full counter! Not guard—slaughter!"
Fire Trust spread—blades, short-fires, shock shells, blaze grains. Thirty seconds, chaindrives charred husks.
Ground stilled. D32 pulsed, gasping, asking: "Why kill me?"
Maria hugged it: "No one's killing you. Some want you buried with them."
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Section Five: Fire Pardons, Not Men
Blood mist lingered, D32's charred human shield cooling. Silence, even ARGUS mute, channels rustling—code overload's blurred signal, throat burned silent, last gasp.
Jason crouched, smearing code shell's blood-char, sniffing: "Ours. We die faster than codes."
Far, a half-smashed chaindrive corpse clinked. Maria raised gun. "Wait," Jason said. Soldier rose, clutching stomach, hand outstretched, silver frequency thread—code link. Maria frowned: "Fire Trust?"
"No. Code-bearer, chain-broken," Jason corrected. ARGUS flashed: "Identified past Fire Trust holder × Code link severed × Emotion: Extreme hatred."
Soldier rasped: "Your faith burned us. I'm a wreck from your lies—" He tore chest, revealing blast-core.
Jason shot brow, core untriggered. Maria exhaled.
"Afraid he wanted last words?" she asked.
"Afraid he'd trigger another trap," Jason said, wiping code shard.
ARGUS recovery report:
- F02 chain intact, light damage, combat-ready
- D32 heavily damaged, 3-hour cooldown
- 27 Fire Trust dead, 12 wounded
- 31 enemies killed, 6 missing, 0 codes recovered
- Code chain preservation: 76%
Maria stared at last line: "We win?"
Jason eyed smoking code shell, bone skewered: "Scarmark's axe-lord, Beman Zul, led eight years. He charged codes, biting this." Wei handed tattered leather slogan: "Burn Faith to Shine."
Maria cursed: "Madman."
"Not mad," Jason said. "Last gamble. They saw codes as fire-source, feared, hated—so burned."
Maria, cold: "Pity them?"
"Pity us," Jason turned. "One wrong step, we're next."
Fuxi flashed: "Faith spares not all. Codes aren't forgiving gods. Fire burns who it must; blood pays debts."
"Fire spares no man," Jason read. "This is Amnesty Fire Valley."
Maria: "Naming it?"
"Not naming—planting," Jason said. "Scarmark died fast, not rotten enough. We'll make their death useful."
ARGUS renamed: Amnesty Fire Valley · Faith Line Second Segment. Code fragments marked: "Awaiting Reforge."
Wei eyed blood-pitted land: "One down?"
"Scarmark's face down," Jason nodded. "Ash lingers chapters."
To ARGUS: "Delay report. Let factions watch this rot, then choose sides. Make them wonder who's next ash."