I WILL FOLLOW YOU TO THE GRAVEYARD

The Silver Backlash

Colonel Darius Ironheart stormed across the frozen armory floor like a living juggernaut. Three hundred pounds of specialized silver-alloy armor encased his massive frame, while the rocket cores built into his weapon, the World-Breaker, erupted with bursts of orange fire. Each blast sent a tremor through the ground beneath him.

Exodus Thorne stood waiting.

The moment Darius came within striking distance, Exodus vanished.

Using the speed he had stolen from Kael Darkwater, he slipped past the hammer's path and reappeared at Darius's blind spot. He didn't draw his sword. Instead, he extended his left hand, black mist curling violently around his fingers.

His objective was simple.

Get through the armor.

Drain Darius's life force directly.

It had worked against Lyra's guards.

Darius, however, had prepared for him.

The instant Exodus's fingers touched the silver breastplate, the armor reacted.

A brilliant flash of white light exploded between them.

Exodus recoiled with a sharp gasp.

Sanctified silver had become a conduit, channeling holy energy straight through his arm. The force tore through his dark magic, burning into the corruption beneath his skin.

He was thrown backward.

His boots scraped across the frozen floor before his body slammed into a granite pillar hard enough to crack the stone.

For several seconds, Exodus remained motionless.

Darius lowered his hammer slightly.

"I warned you, ghost."

His voice echoed through the armory.

"Did you really think I'd face you without armor designed to counter your powers?"

Exodus slowly raised his left hand.

The skin was blackened, thin trails of silver dust clinging to his fingers. Green fire flickered inside his eyes as the remnants of holy energy continued to burn through his corruption.

For once, Darius had caught him off guard.

A dry whisper stirred inside Exodus's mind.

The heavy one stands firm.

Another voice followed.

His armor carries the prayers of saints.

Then came the third, quieter than the others.

Attack the joints.

Exodus clenched his damaged hand.

Pain faded.

Beneath the blackened skin, bones shifted and knitted themselves back together. Kael's stolen speed surged through his body once more, restoring the balance he had lost.

Exodus looked at Darius.

There was no anger in his expression.

Only calculation.

"You've built yourself a sturdy cage, Darius."

He rose slowly.

"But a cage is still a cage."

Darius's visor brightened.

"Then come and break the lock."

The secondary rocket cores activated.

The World-Breaker roared.

Darius swung the hammer in a wide arc, the weapon generating a pressure wave that ripped through the armory. Three ash-hounds were caught in its path. They howled as the blast sent them tumbling across the frozen floor.

Exodus disappeared before the hammer could reach him.

The World-Breaker tore through empty air.

Darius turned.

Too late.

Exodus appeared ten feet behind him, his broadsword already in his hand. Emerald runes ignited along the blade as he drove it toward the exposed machinery behind Darius's knee.

CLANG!

The sword bounced off the armor.

Darius didn't even stumble.

Exodus's eyes narrowed.

Years of training under the Iron-Core Doctrine had made Darius's body unnaturally dense. The armor wasn't merely protecting him.

It had become an extension of him.

Darius spun with surprising speed.

The haft of the World-Breaker slammed into Exodus's chest.

CRACK!

Exodus flew backward and crashed into a weapons rack. Blades and metal tools rained onto the floor around him.

Darius advanced through the debris, steam escaping from the vents around his helmet.

"You have Kael's speed," he growled. "You've taken Theron's fire. But speed won't move a mountain."

He raised the World-Breaker.

"As long as my Iron-Core holds, you can't break me."

Exodus pushed himself upright.

His black clothing hung in torn strips, and a thin stream of gray fluid leaked from his chest. He wiped it away and studied Darius for a moment.

"Maybe I don't need to break you."

Darius paused.

Exodus raised his sword.

"I only need to make you break yourself."

Darius charged.

Exodus waited.

The World-Breaker came crashing toward him.

At the last possible moment, Exodus sidestepped.

The hammer smashed into the floor.

The impact sent another shockwave through the armory, cracking several iron plates along the walls.

Exodus moved behind Darius.

This time, he didn't attack.

He watched.

Every movement.

Every vent.

Every joint.

Every place where the armor shifted whenever Darius moved.

The silver was strong.

But it wasn't seamless.

Nothing was.

Exodus extended his damaged hand.

Emerald Ghost-Fire spread across his fingers.

The temperature around him dropped rapidly. Frost crawled across nearby weapons, turning their surfaces white.

Darius turned.

A flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

Exodus smiled faintly.

"Learning."

The Ghost-Fire intensified.

Metal groaned beneath Darius's feet as the sudden cold collided with the heat trapped inside his armor.

Darius shifted his stance.

For the first time, he hesitated.

Exodus noticed.

His eyes moved across the armor again.

The silver had stopped his first attack.

The armor had resisted his sword.

But now he understood what he had missed.

Darius wasn't invincible.

His armor had protected him because every part of it worked together—the silver plating, the Iron-Core, the vents, the joints.

And that meant there had to be a point where those parts depended on one another.

A weakness.

Exodus raised his broadsword.

The emerald runes burned brighter.

"The first round was yours, Darius."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"I won't make the same mistake twice."

Darius tightened both hands around the World-Breaker.

The armory fell silent.

For one heartbeat, neither warrior moved.

Then Darius's rocket cores ignited.

Exodus lowered his stance, emerald fire crawling along the length of his blade.

They charged at each other.

And this time, Exodus knew exactly where to strike.