As dusk falls on a massive, ruined city littered with signs of a once proud and prosperous civilization...
A silver-haired young man cloaked in black, with a toned figure and a sword strapped across his back, idly sits atop a rusted traffic light suspended over an intersection filled with destroyed machinery. His matching silver eyes are glassy and hollow, like he's spacing out. A solemn expression mingles with his weary eyes, piercing through the messy and unkempt strands of unnaturally colored hair framing his features. He looks mildly irritated, like something's bothering him the more he thinks about it. But what could be on his mind?
Being out here at this time of day is tempting Death; it'll be dark soon...
The dark means nothing but trouble...
He jumps off the street light and lands with a silent huff, rising and rolling his shoulders before glancing about his surroundings. There's nothing but ruins in every direction he looks. Ruins pained by a sunset backdrop that's quickly turning into night, and fallen skyscrapers collapses upon each other. He takes in this tragically beautiful view; it's a constant reminder of a life and a time he never had the pleasure of experiencing, as he was born several generations too late. He turns to walk away, but staggers and grabs his head when a sudden pounding sensation wracks his psyche. Something's bothering him.
"Ngh!" the man grunts in a tone matching his aesthetic: quiet, reserved, controlled. He apologizes to the air while cradling his face in discomfort with a gloved hand, palms covered for wielding his weapon but fingers exposed for dexterity. "Keep it together..." he tells himself, then recalls his earlier annoyance almost instantly. They're late. Where are they?
"Why would they tell me not to be late and then show up late?" he groans, strolling toward the destroyed husk of a garbage truck to lean against it. He crosses his arms, lowers his head, and closes his eyes, lamenting his growing irritation with being out here so long. It'll be dark soon, and it's too late for the preparation talks and plans that she demanded he be ready to listen to. "Fucking liars..." he curses, and then hears the slowly growing hum of an armored vehicle speeding down the only somewhat maneuverable road toward the intersection.
The dark-colored beast of a machine rolls along on nine robust wheels that effortlessly drive its multiple-ton hull forward through the rubble. Its reinforced and angular frontside bats and knocks away any inoperable vehicles littering the streets that it can't avoid through steering. The loud hum of its diesel engine echoes for miles through the quiet city of ruins. The Armored Personnel Carrier flashes its LED headlights at the stranger from down the road, and the silver-haired man scoffs in annoyance.
"It's about damned time..." he grunts, casually and calmly standing in the street with his hands nestled in his baggy combat fatigues. He stares down the APC as it suddenly speeds up toward him, driving with full intent to smash and run him over. The engine screams louder while those thick rubber wheels screech amidst the battering ram noises of the metal monstrosity's charge. It'll hit him if he doesn't move.
But it never does...
The APC grinds to a perfect halt that stops it roughly three inches from hitting the man's torso; he's eye level with the headlights of the massive military machine. He's unfazed by it all; it wouldn't have hit him whether it stopped or didn't. As the stopped vehicle idles with an oddly comforting hum in front of the stranger, his somewhat mixed expression of annoyance and fatigue flicks around the side toward the protruding doors opening with a flashy technological flair.
A young and shapely woman in black, around the stranger's age, strolls down the extended steps of the opened vehicle with a nonchalant, sultry flair in her step; she's a natural beauty at first sight. She's built for the lifestyle she lives, her figure toned and athletic despite its effeminate, head-turning shape. Her messy and unkempt shoulder-length hair is as dark as a crow's feathers, heavy with thick bangs framing her features and masking much of the right side of her face, yet her skin is light and fair like a maiden's, a beautiful contrast. When she sways her head and looks at the stranger, he sees through her moving bangs the vertical scar line down her right eye, which she always keeps closed. The one blue-hued eye looking at him emanates a pleasant and warm energy; she's elated to see him.
"Were you going to stand there and get run over?" She chuckles as she approaches the man, her voice as attractive as she is, despite the scar she hides beneath her overgrown peek-a-boo bangs. Her fingerless, gloved hands slip into the back pockets of her fatigues, and she arches her back in a lazy stretch. "Or did you plan to do something cool to show off if we didn't stop?" she smirks after stretching, her sole open blue eye focusing on the indifferent stranger when he responds with a matching apathy.
"You'll never know because you already stopped," he dismisses, his hands still in his pockets, too. "It's almost nighttime, and you're late. What happened to the briefing bullshit that you said I needed to be here early for?" he demands to know with a calm and stern tone, something that earns him points with the mysterious woman; she likes no nonsense people. She smirks back at the man staring her down with irritation, then casually circles him like a stalking leopard, but she speaks like she's innocent of the accusations.
"I lied," she bluntly admits with a tomboyish laugh, shrugging when pulling her hands from her pockets. The silver-haired stranger flashing her an annoyed glare causes her to laugh in response; she's laughing harder than she means to. "Hahaha!! I'm kidding!" she assures, holding her hands up in submission before explaining herself. The sky's going dark in about ten minutes; they don't have much time to get started.
"The Funeral Crystal we have to track Abyssal Rifts got interference on the way here," she said, thumbing behind her to the APC housing said crystal. "It took a while for me to repair it," she chuckles, halfway joking before waving off the conversation with a hand; it's not important. "That's irrelevant. I'm here now, and so are you. So, let's get your evaluation started, yeah?" She beams a smile at the slightly taller man, suddenly remembering something.
"Oh, your name is Aerin, right?" she asks, appraising the handsome-looking man with a more intense eye than necessary; there's nothing wrong with staring, and she's not hiding it in the slightest. "Never seen a Remnant like you before. Actually, I've never seen a Remnant with silver hair at all..." She gestures to his unique features but keeps an overall professional air about her; this is work, not a date. Aerin simply nodded; there wasn't anything to add. The woman carries on the exchange.
"Then again, Cyril did say that you stood out in a crowd," she chuckles, then rests her hand over her chest and introduces herself. She speaks with a slight egotistical flair in her words, as if she's trying to impress and woo him despite knowing they're both here for business; a girl has to try. "As you likely already know, I'm Trinity. But you can call me Trey, or Tree if you want," she smiles, knowing that nickname is ridiculous, but she still loves it. With introductions out of the way, she slips her hands into her pockets again and glances past Aerin over the destroyed city stretching as far as her one good eye can see. Aerin wonders why she keeps her right eye closed and hidden under her bangs, but he doesn't inquire. Trinity keeps talking.
"Anyway, my objective is basically to act as both your grader and assistant on this little expedition beyond the confines of Discordia," she hums, referencing the closest pocket of civilization some ways away from this section of the ruined city. She starts circling Aerin again while talking, and Aerin remains stationary; his gaze follows her when he can, though.
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"So, I do hope that you impress me because I'm a very tough woman to catch the eye of," Trinity cooes with a playful wink while appraising Aerin's visage once more. "The Abyssal Rift located in this sector shouldn't be too challenging for a competent Remnant. Still, Cyril is aware of the dangers of fighting Abyssal Monsters and Abyssal Corruption, so I'm here to be your combat ally," she winks as if that's the greatest honor Aerin will ever have in his life; Trinity's got an ego. Aerin remains calm and casual when he responds.
"Lucky me," is all Aerin says in response, changing the subject when the APC that delivered Trinity closes up and starts backing out. "They're not staying?" he questions, though he looks unbothered either way. Trinity glances over her shoulder at the leaving vehicle for several seconds, then handwaves any concern, looking back at her new partner.
"They'll come back once we've purged the Abyssal Rift; it's too dangerous for regular humans to idle out here at night, especially in this part of the ruined city," she pauses and suddenly glances behind Aerin as if something grabbed her attention, and the young man's gaze quickly follows. Aerin doesn't see anything when he turns, though. His perplexed expression swivels back to Trinity, who meets his gaze for a second before reassuring everything's alright. Aerin's oblivious to the fact that she senses something wrong with him.
"Sorry..." Trinity apologizes, still keeping a controlled tone in her voice, but Aerin picks up that she's getting a little nervous. Trinity confirms his suspicions a few seconds later with her next words. "I'm always on edge when I'm this far out from Discordia. Abyssal Phenomenon is something no Remnant is truly comfortable dealing with, no matter how strong they are," she sighs, caressing the side of her face masked by her hair, specifically her closed and scarred eye underneath it. Her hand drops back to her side when she speaks again.
"But, having fear at the wrong time will kill us if we're not careful. So, I sincerely hope you're as good at this as Cyril said you were," Trinity reminds, and Aerin takes a moment to look around the intersection. The APC was out of earshot at this time, leaving a deft silence between every exchange of words in the darkening city of ruined metal and broken concrete. It's a tragic sight no matter where he looks.
"I hope you're not dead weight, either..." Aerin remarks, turning away and scouring the landscape. "So, you said the Abyssal Rift is in this sector? How are we going to pinpoint it?" he asks, and Trinity quickly pulls a phone from a pocket at her right thigh and holds it out for Aerin to see, which mildly surprises him. A working phone in this era is as rare as diamonds; most these days use walkie-talkies or other cruder methods of communication. She explains everything before Aerin questions it.
"This isn't a regular phone before your mind gets blown," she chuckles, carrying on. "It's an Aether Transmitter, but you will pretty much call it a phone. You can communicate in Abyss Zones with this, and it's tuned by Funeral Crystals and powered by Remnant Anima, so it only works if you're a Remnant. Don't ask me about the more technical shit because I'll flatout tell you I don't fucking know; I'm not the one that makes these," she preemptively says in case Aerin starts overthinking the device he's never heard of until now. A phone that wasn't a phone but acted like a phone? Well, who cares? He's never seen a phone up close, let alone had one. He accepts it, and Trinity keeps talking.
"It can also detect Abyssal signatures, which can lead us to the epicenter of an Abyssal Rift. All in all, it's a pretty neat technological advancement considering the setbacks humanity has had the past several generations..." she remarks, looking at the flashing screen when it beeps like a sonar. The woman's visible eye lights up with interest; something good just happened.
"The rift is energizing. The Night Phase has started," she glances at the sky that's now dark. She takes off in a light jog past Aerin, nudging his shoulder when she passes and leaving a rhythmic song of her boots tapping the concrete as she leads the way. "Keep up, pretty boy! I won't wait up for you!" she says, and Aerin quickly pursues without argument. He catches up within seconds, keeping pace with her steps while they dash through the streets filled with broken cars, fallen debris, and filthy rubble. It feels like they're aimlessly wandering through a maze of a destroyed city, but Trinity's got a clear direction. They run together for a few minutes without interruption, and eventually, Trinity speaks again.
"We're heading to a place that used to be a place of worship years ago," the tomboyish woman says while eyeing her transmitter. "They called them churches, I believe..." she adds, and Aerin nods in silence. He's heard about churches and seen a few of them on his solo journeys outside of Discordia. He's never found much interest in learning about them, though.
"I wonder what they'd think of the god they worshipped now if they were still around..." Aerin remarks with a potent indifference to the answer; he already guesses what the dead would think. Trinity glances over her shoulder at his words, humming a little at his cryptic question before looking forward again. She sees a large dome-shaped building several blocks down the road at the end of the street, high on the hilltop; that's gotta be the church they're looking for.
"A better question might be what their god thought of them..." she responds with a small snort, slowing to a stop a few seconds later. Aerin stops shortly after she does and quietly walks to her side while she's pointing toward the several-story-tall church building, barely still standing. Years of erosion and weathering beating on the structural integrity leave a once well-maintained and sacred place of worship as a shell of itself on the verge of crumbling beneath its weight. Perhaps the faith of those that once prayed here is the only reason this building still stands...
An ominous wind blows through the nighttime streets illuminated only by the shining moon high above...
This place isn't safe...
Beep! Beep! Beep!
The transmitter blares in Trinity's hand...
"Yeah, the Abyssal Rift is in that abandoned church..." the young woman assures, glancing down the street at the large building casting its shadow down the road toward them as if daring them to step into the darkness. The unsettling feeling in the air seeps into her bones more than she wants it to, but she takes a deep breath and calms herself before looking Aerin's way. "You've got experience with Abyss Monsters, right? What about rifts?" She double-checks out of reassurance despite already knowing the answer from Cyril; paranoia happens anyway when lives are on the line. Aerin assures her with a calm and deliberate nod that matches his casually assuring tone.
"I know how to deal with them, don't worry," the silver-haired Remnant assures while stepping into the shadow of the church high on the hill. His eyes fixate on the decrepit church, and he fails to notice Trinity side-eyeing him with a scrutinizing expression for the briefest second. There's something about this man that she can't figure out; it's a feeling of curiosity sprinkled with uncertainty...
Why does it feel like something is looming over Aerin?
Trinity can't help but question if she's imagining this presence or if there's something Cyril didn't tell her...
... ... ...
She forgets about it for now; If Cyril trusted Aerin, she will as well until proven otherwise.
"Alright..." the woman nods, raising her hands to the sky and arching her back for a deep stretch accompanied by a low-pitched exhale; she's loosening up for what's to come. When she's done stretching, she raises her fingerless, gloved hands and clasps them together, forming the likeness of a bird with her fingers before speaking again. "There's usually an Abyss Guardian protecting the rift. We'll have to beat it before we can perform a Lament Rite on the rift and temporarily cleanse it," she explains moments before a swirl of black and blue energy that dances like fire swirls around her form. This energy softly hums with a mysterious pitch, like the whooshing of wind, and a mass of shapeless energy forms in front of her upon command.
"Midnight Owl."
Trinity's Anima births an Owl made of shadows in front of her that stands as tall as she does. The creature's glowing blue eyes gleam in the darkness, while its wispy shadow form looks as if it'll blow away with the wind at any moment, yet never does. It quickly condenses into a more solid, yet still semi-corporeal form, and ruffles its wings in silence, awaiting orders. Aerin looks mildly impressed at what he just saw; he's never met a Remnant that summons familiars in battle. Then again, Remnants were rare in general. Trinity lowers her hands once the summoning's complete and turns Aerin's way.
"We'll split up from here. I'll keep the perimeter clear of any incoming Abyssal reinforcements should the Guardian try calling them," she states, now approaching Aerin and poking his chest with her finger. She inches her face close to his as if going for a kiss, but stops a respectable distance away, talking with a subtle flirt in her words. A serious attempt, or a teasing tone?
"You... can go impress me by taking down the Guardian by yourself. The Funeral Crystal readings gave this rift a solid A rating, which means that if you're as tough as Cyril says you are, this'll give you a healthy workout," She pulls away, noting that Aerin remains nonchalant the entire exchange; he's completely unbothered by the threat. She can't say if it's ego, ignorance, or confidence until she sees the results. Still, she cracks a smile.
"I do hope you're as cool as you act, pretty boy," Trinity chuckles before turning and gesturing her familiar to take to the sky. She fades away into the shadows herself seconds later, but not before giving Aerin a farewell comment. "Stay sharp, Aerin. Don't underestimate the Denizens of the Abyss..."
She's gone in the next moment without a trace, and Aerin turns away, heading toward the church by himself.
"I never do..." he assures Trinity in his mind.
Cyril had better keep his promise after this.
To be continued! Next Chapter: The Remnant with no Reflection
A/N: Chapter might be subject to minor edits over time. I always miss something it never fails. RIP.