Austin stared up anxiously, the sight filling him with dread.
In the same plaza where he'd watched as the Scar-Ceiling was enforced, the city government had erected massive display screens. Order neatly lain upon itself.
They showed Mayor Albright delivering a speech, looking haggard behind her podium.
"Proctor Seele assures me that the Shallows can still be saved..." she said, her voice trembling through every well-rehearsed word.
Austin shivered, but not from the biting cold. This plaza was always empty if the Authority wasn't conducting checks.
Then it happened. Everything fell apart all at once.
An explosion tore through City Hall. The boom rang throughout Lumière, the epicentre marked by the plume of thick smoke that had punched into the sky. Distant screams and sirens could be heard.
"What-" Austin began, barely registering Elliot’s hand gripping his shoulder as he turned to his friend for answers. The former dealer stared back with wide eyes.
Elliot cut him off. "The Ozics got lazy. Instead of turnin' Albright into a bomb, they just planted one."
It had started snowing that morning. Oriole had left with Sol to explore the commercial district, where the Keloidic Authority maintained only a token presence.
Austin and Elliot had come to watch the Centre for any signs of movement. They got more than expected; the Ozic Society had disturbed the hornet's nest.
Proctor Aneurin Seele stepped out of the building, wheezing down the steps. A giant Grey-Coat loomed behind him.
"I know y-you're there, Austin," he called, smoothing out his coat.
"What is it, Seele? Your people sent tanks after me!" Austin shouted back.
"The Proctor wants to talk. Stop hiding,” the hulking Grey-Coat ordered. Elliot nodded at their group’s de facto leader, the message clear: he would follow Austin's lead.
The pair crept out from behind a fountain, looking around for more Grey-Coats. Up close, Seele looked dreadful.
The Proctor’s blue tails hung off his frail body like creased rags. Dried blood crusted his lips, and the gloved hand gripping his cane trembled violently. The man was a skeleton.
"C-closer..." he rasped, coughing. When he lowered his hand, it was slick with dark, sticky blood.
Elliot walked forward recklessly. From his perspective, the bodyguard seemed to double in size.
The oversized Grey-Coat glared down at him with undisguised contempt. “Take one more step, and it’ll be your last,” he growled.
"Alright, mate. No need to be rude." Elliot quipped at him. His eyes flicked around, never meeting those of the Grey-Coat.
"You still haven't answered my question, Seele," Austin said. "What do you want?"
Another coughing fit. The wheezing drew a concerned look from his guard, who offered a massive hand to steady him. “Sir,” the Grey-Coat murmured.
"Thank y-you, Bastion." His employer said gratefully.
What do you want, Middle?” Seele snarled once he’d recovered. “The Mayor… is dead because of ideas like yours. There is n-n-no choice, only the disease… and the cure."
Austin was stunned into silence. Of all the things he’d imagined Aneurin Seele might say if they ever crossed paths again, this wasn’t one of them.
"That ain't fair, mate. Blaming what the Ozics do on us," Elliot protested bitterly.
The Proctor jabbed his cane toward the rising smoke.
"Look," he spat, "the Ozic Society has given us their final argument."
And, as much as Austin hated to admit it, Seele was at least partly right.
"It's a tragedy, not a justification," Austin shouted into the snow. "You're using their madness to excuse your own!"
Seele took a shuddering step closer. Bastion's watchful gaze locked onto Elliot.
"I’m dying, Middle. She won’t have me… much longer. The Ozic will tear this p-place apart to find her once I’m gone. I have to finish m-m-my work… or choose a successor who can.” His voice had gone cold.
Austin’s mind raced. If Seele dies, who will take over?
Austin felt fear take hold within his chest. There were few things more dangerous than someone with nothing left to lose. “The Ozic are fanatics, but the Authority is just as bad,” he said. “The next Proctor should heal, not destroy.”
"I never wanted to d-destroy you…you were supposed to replace me. Why must you stand in the way of the only future she can survive?” Seele murmured, dabbing at fever-bright eyes with a tissue.
“Mate, we are in so much trouble," Elliot whispered.
"The Proctor speaks. You listen," Bastion growled, reaching for the upscaled stun rod on his back
Seele lifted his gloved hand, and the towering Grey-Coat instinctively backed down. When he spoke again, his voice was hollow. “I w-will crush the Ozic, and then… the Final Purification begins. There will be no more scars, Middle.”
Austin was mortified. “Oriole wouldn’t want that!” he shouted. “You want to build a prison for her and call it paradise!”
Oriole’s father scoffed. “Don’t b-be ridiculous. I’ve… sent Valerius to retrieve her. Gently.”
Why is it always Valerius, why not an incompetent Surgeon? Austin thought glumly.
Elliot’s expression darkened. “I’ve sold numbness in a bottle. It doesn’t fix anything,” he sighed.
Aneurin Seele turned away, wincing with every step as he climbed the stairs, Bastion shielding him from any harm. The two were swallowed by the Centre’s shadow as they entered.
"Well," Elliot said quietly, "he's not bluffing."
Austin glanced wearily at the Centre. "I know," he said firmly.
"Ya got a plan, boss?"
Austin swallowed hard. “Oriole and Sol are in the commercial district. We’d better find them fast.”
ns216.73.216.33da2
and then Add to home screen.