Rune Seeker

In no mood to play the same dangerous game of tag again, Hiral leapt away before the weapon’s barrel lined him up. A burst of Rejection ahead of him shattered the glass of the building across the street to reveal mostly empty floors. Like the buildings had only really been finished on the outside, it was clear nobody had ever lived there.

The floors and ceilings looked to be made out of a similar kind of stone, composite material as the roads – though lighter in color – and regular, square pillars stood evenly spaced to support the weight of the building. An interesting design choice, but not what he was there for, and Hiral dashed inside, immediately putting one of those pillars between himself and the W45P.

Not that he planned to stop there, already running toward a stairwell he’d spotted. And, good thing he had, too, with the W45P pulling its trigger. That stone pillar only seemed good for breaking line of sight, and did nothing to stop the stream of physical slugs. Rock chips exploded in a shower from the rounds striking it, to reveal thin bars of some kind of metal within the pillar acting as a frame. The metal didn’t do any better standing up to the onslaught though, and within a few short seconds, the two-foot-wide pillar looked far more like an hourglass than anything else.

At least it had served its purpose. Hiral reached the stairwell and began a rapid climb within the stone encased column. In a way, it reminded him of the tunnels in the bowels of Fallen Reach, though he doubted the walls were more sturdy. Then again, the W45P had stopped shooting for the moment. Why? What was it doing?

The next floor up, Hiral found the same kind of open door he’d entered the stairway through, and glanced out to find his opponent rising straight up. It could still sense him – or more accurately, his solar energy. Still, he continued Rejecting up the stairs, covering entire flights in one leap before reaching the landing, twisting, and launching off again. Like that, he rocketed up two, four, eight floors in seconds, then looked out the next door he passed.

There, again, was the W45P following him up.

Even inside the building, with walls and pillars between them, the construct – armor, whatever it was – could track him. And, staying at a range was a disadvantage to Hiral. The thing’s weapon had no apparent cooldown, and the A-Rank damage potential of it was more than enough to tear through his armor. Not to mention his body. Neither were things he really wanted to get torn through.

On the other side of things, his RHCs had done respectable damage, thanks to a combination of Piercing Shot+ and Aim High. He seemed to be able to ignore the rank disparity for the most part, which meant he just needed to land a few solid hits without opening himself up to that rifle.

He needed a distraction. And a way to get closer. If only Left and Right were there with him, then he’d have both. He couldn’t pull them away from what they were doing, though. Left was leading the rest of the raid group while Right dealt with another one of these W45Ps… somehow. Hiral really was on his own with no clones to…

Another two flights up, and Hiral almost slapped his forehead. He had the perfect solution for this problem, and this building was the perfect place to use it.

Why didn’t I think of this sooner?

Now, about fifteen floors up – of what he guessed had to be close to forty from how tall the building looked from outside – he began spiraling energy into his runes. Separation, Dreaming, and his time runes got the majority of it, but he also threw in some Expansion, Sealing, and Connection. Then, as he continued climbing, he pulsed with solar energy, his plan taking literal shape.

Another glance at the next doorway he passed, and he saw the W45P continuing to climb before he was past. After that, he could only imagine it pausing. Its sensory system going crazy as one dot of solar energy suddenly became a dozen. Then two dozen. Fifty. A hundred. Two hundred.

The building in front of it filling with solar energy signatures, floors swarming with them like ants on the warpath. Fifteen levels above and below, it all had to be glowing to its eyes, as if the building itself had come alive.

Until the windows of all thirty floors exploded outward at once, hundreds of Hiral’s leaping out, Coats of Amin Thett snapping and glowing in the air. As they darkened the false sky with their sheer numbers and closed on the hovering construct like a massive, converging tidal wave.

By that point, Hiral could see his enemy for himself, from behind raining shards of glass and solar energy clones. Once again, a spear of Piercing and Expansion extended from his left hand, while claws of Separation coated his right. And, maybe it was that extra expenditure of energy that snapped the W45P’s attention to him, the rifle following and a finger squeezing the trigger.

As if in slow motion, the barrel flashed, solid rounds spitting out with their characteristic dun-dun-dun-dun-dun – though they seemed sluggish in Hiral’s ears – and streaked on a collision course with him. The W45P had to think there was no way even Hiral could alter his forward momentum or dodge the stream of shots coming his way.

It hadn’t fallen for his distraction.

Hiral smiled.

The distraction was only half the plan, with the clones delaying the W45P’s reaction by a solid two seconds before it spotted him. And, there, in those seconds, the wall of clones reached the flying armor. Little more than light loosely held together with a bit of Expansion, the first one that reached – at the same time the W45P pulled the trigger – burst apart like an overfilled waterskin. As did the second, and the third, proving they were no threat, while the rifle’s rounds closed to within a foot of Hiral’s face.

Less than the blink of an eye later, the slugs closed that final distance, punching through Hiral’s face and body, exploding him like an overfilled waterskin.

Well, the clone he’d just Exchanged himself with to appear directly in front of the W45P, his spear already stabbing. With surprisingly little resistance, the spike of Piercing punched straight into – and through – the armor, though Hiral had to tisk. The construct had shifted to the side at the last second, taking the attack in the shoulder instead of the face.

Still, Hiral drove the weapon in one side and out the other, then swapped from Piercing to Separation and ripped the glowing blade straight up. Metal parts – and blood?! – showered out of the damaged section at the same time Hiral raked his right hand across. Claws of Separation scarred along the armor’s faceplate, but again his enemy had shifted. The blow hadn’t been deep enough.

And he was out of time, pushing energy into his Rune of Exchange as the W45P’sbladed arm came up and around like it hadn’t felt a thing.

Too bad Hiral couldn’t say the same, appearing where one of his clones had been a second before with blood running from two wounds across the side of his abdomen. That thing was far faster than it had any right to be. Then again, it was A-Rank, so maybe Hiral should just be thankful it wasn’t both faster and tougher.

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Ignoring his both his thoughts and the wounds – Runic Regeneration was already taking care of it – Hiral again Exchanged places with another clone just in time to dodge the next salvo of rifle-fire. One, two, three times he jumped from clone to clone before getting close enough to strike, claws again raking straight across the chest plate from uninjured shoulder to opposite hip. And, this time, it was deep, blood again splashing out of the damage as he flashed by.

“RAAAAAGH!” the armor screamed, like a voice through a metal tube, and a pulse of energy rippled off the W45P, incinerating every clone within fifteen feet.

Luckly, Hiral had Exchanged himself out of there the instant he’d felt the build up of energy, but it also meant there wasn’t another clone close enough to jump to. And his opponent seemed angry now, flaring the thrusters at its back to rocket in Hiral’s direction.

Rejection got him out of the way – barely – and the W45P crashed into the same building Hiral had just exited. Floors, stone, and glass parted in front of its armored body – though they slowed it – and then it spun around, gun already flashing.

Being out in the open definitely didn’t seem like a good idea, so Hiral Rejected hard into one of the lower floors of the same building. Being inside had to be totally better than being out in the open. If the multiple layers between them slowed…

They didn’t.

The ceiling above Hiral exploded in a shower of stony fragments as the rifle-shots riddled it full of holes – as well as the floor below. The trail followed him as he zig-zagged from one side of the building to the other – almost like the more solar energy use used to evade, the better the W45P’s aim got – then Rejected the windows out ahead of himself.

Being inside totally wasn’t any better than being out in the open!

Glass shattered in front of him as he vaulted out, planes of Rejection forming to criss-cross his way up. Like before, the rifle was powerful, but had a hard time making sudden changes of direction. It didn’t have a cooldown, but it did have a recoil. Still, as soon as Hiral changed up to in, the stream of heavy slugs got uncomfortably close, and he was forced to change direction again, zipping down the street.

And – this time – the W45P didn’t seem satisfied with staying in one place like some kind of weapon’s platform, the side of the building exploding outward as it gave chase. Powerful thrusters whipped it out and across the street, curving hard but still carving into the windows of the opposite structure. More glass rained down on the street – they were sure doing a number on the place – in a trail behind the W45P as it gave chase.

Back and forth, Hiral dodged across the street, grabbing his RHCs from his thighs and flipping to return fire as he went. Having to focus more on avoiding getting hit than hitting his target – even with his sensory domain telling him where the armored flyer was – Hiral barely did damage with half his shots. By the destruction of the streets and buildings around him, he couldn’t afford to get hit even once either. The damn thing had defenses approaching Nivian’s or Wallop’s, and damage output that would do Yanily proud.

The one advantage Hiral had was his maneuverability, and after a flip right, he cut hard to the left to dash down an alley between buildings. Shots rang out behind him, cutting through the city in the direction he had been going, so he poured the power on to give him a lead. Another crash from the rear told him the W45P hadn’t made the tight turn so well. Good.

Another sharp turn broke the flyer’s line of sight with Hiral. There, with at least a second before it spotted him again, he dumped solar energy into his runes, spawning a shower of Hiral’s to leap out of him. More than a dozen – all he had time for – sped off in different directions, while Hiral himself cut most of his own solar energy off.

Just his pseudo-aspect and his buffs carried him through a broken window of the building at his side. Hitting the floor and rolling, he was back up and sprinting off to make sure the W45P wouldn’t be able to see him. It was time to test just how well it could sense his solar energy.

By the way an endless stream of heavy slugs didn’t come tearing through the metal and glass in his direction, he got his answer. And, thanks to his own sensory domain, he could feel the flyer slowing down, obviously confused – but not completely fooled – by the clones he’d sent out to run through the city nearby.

The W45P had to know most of the clones were nothing more than weak bags of solar energy, but they all felt similar enough that one of them could be Hiral. Unless he actively used solar energy for his abilities or runes – it seemed – the construct couldn’t tell the difference.

So, how could he use this to his advantage? His RHCs didn’t do enough damage to the thing, even if he had a clean shot. Using Dual Power Attack+ meant solar energy, which the W45P would immediately detect, so that was out. Same with igniting the Greatsword of Amin Thett.

No, he needed a weapon that didn’t really use solar energy. Something that wasn’t ‘magical’. His fists alone definitely weren’t going to work if the RHCs didn’t. Maybe he could pick up one of the pipes lying around or something? While the thought it of kind of made him want to chuckle – What next? Find a frying pan? – it really didn’t solve his problem. He needed a weapon like what the W45P had. Something… mechanical…

Hiral let himself sigh – though quietly. He had exactly what he needed. He just needed to get it out of his Arsenal of Amin Thett. Which meant solar energy and the W45P finding him. Unless he could use that to his advantage too? From the way the thing was flying nearby, it was keeping its attention on the clones still sprinting around. It didn’t even seem to realize he was there in the building behind it.

It couldn’t detect buffs or abilities that weren’t actively using solar energy. At all. It didn’t even seem to be looking for him. Like it was entirely relying on its ability to sense solar energy. As long as it didn’t accidently, physically see him, he was basically invisible to it.

Which meant, if he was smart about it, he could control where it went. That gave him an idea, but first he needed to reposition. Another staircase near the center of the building was perfect for his needs, and he dashed silently over and up the stairs. Even without the runes to power his movement, he did have over six-hundred Dex. More than eight hundred, counting his buffs.

First things first – he needed to do something about that rifle. It was a problem.

Three flights took Hiral up to the same level as the hovering W45P, its weapon alternating tracking the different clones while it waited for one to make a move. Luckily, the thing hadn’t completely broken off to go after the party still battling the G14NT, or Right and the other W45P. Since the clones wouldn’t last much longer, Hiral had exactly that long to solve the gun problem or else his plan wouldn’t work.

The recoil couldn’t be the only limitation of it. It couldn’t be. What did he know?

Uh, it was incredibly powerful and would turn him into a fine, red mist if it caught up to him. Or, more likely, blow him into little chunks from the rounds tearing him apart.

Rounds. Physical rounds. If they were like what Ilrolik caught – and they both felt and looked like it – they weren’t magic. He didn’t feel an ounce of solar energy from them. Seeyela’s crossbow bolts – even though they were physical – reeked of solar energy to his senses. They were constructs of energy given form.

The W45P’s slugs weren’t the same. They were physical objects. While they could be getting pulled from somewhere like an Interspatial Ring, he hadn’t felt any of the usual tells of that kind of thing during the fight. And there was no way that rifle held as many shots as the thing had thrown at him. There also had to be a reason it wasn’t simply showering the area where the clones were with more strafing fire.

It had a limited amount of ammunition with it.

Hiral’s eyes locked on the thick belt connecting the weapon to the bulky thruster pack on the W45P’s back. He’d assumed it was just big because it was responsible for keeping the thing in the air. But, what if that’s where it kept the ammunition for the gun? Fed to the rifle through the belt. There was no way to know for sure. Not without some testing.

A test that would give away his location.

Nothing for it then, and he took aim with his RHC, lining up the shot. Ready to bolt, he watched the W45P’s smooth movement, then pulled the trigger. The searing bolt of Impact crossed the space without the flyer even noticing.

At least, not until it hit the belt.

Where Hiral expected it to shear through the belt, it instead set off a small chain of explosions, shredding the belt and sending shards of red-hot shrapnel into the side of the W45P. Instantly, the flyer spun – blood coating the right side of its chest from the wound Hiral had given it earlier – and leveled the rifle in Hiral’s direction. A pull of the trigger, a flash from the muzzle, and a shower of solid rounds raced in Hiral’s direction.

Maybe his guess had been wrong…