Once they reached the main deck, the chaos was astonishing. Everywhere they looked mechanical soldiers partnered with human lackeys to extinguish fires and try to contain the damage from the plane crash.
Sho watched dumbfounded as humans shouted orders and went to great trouble to try to save the giant ship and its crew.
Nixon wasn’t surprised at all. After Aryu had told him about the incident with his friend back in the mountain village and the subsequent meeting with Boroha, finding people on board was precisely what he’d expected. Society’s dregs were often found in places like this, feeding off the sludge handed down to them by someone such as Izuku. It was and shall always be the way of things. Better a pet than a prisoner, at least in the eyes of the weak.
Raging sword in hand and the hum of the bladed shield beside him, Nixon stepped to the first crowd of robotic drones and cleaved the whole lot of them with one swipe. The sudden felling of their comrades made the rest of the forces in the large hallway take notice. They attacked these new threats, but none possessed weapons in this time of turmoil. They were easy prey for the two skilled warriors. The living members of this riot squad were a little more hesitant to confront these newcomers and held back behind the first wave of soldiers, trying to organize themselves and plan what to do next.
Once the last of the robots was cleaved into bits and tossed aside, Nixon (careful to keep Sho behind him and protected from unseen threats) stepped towards the remaining figures.
“Gentlemen,” he began, careful not to smile, knowing full well that his grin was made to set someone at ease, “as I am in a terrible rush, I was hoping tha’ one of ye could guide me t’ the man named Izuku? Perhaps tell me where t’ find him?”
No answer, just a crowd of scared faces. Nixon and Sho could both see them trying to decide whom they feared more. “I’ll make this simple,” Nixon added, knowing their inner conflict for what it was, “Izuku likely would kill ya all for helpin’ us; 'owever, he’s not 'ere right now, and I am. I assure ya, I'll do the exact same as he will. Ya may not suffer as much, but in the end, you’ll be jus' as dead. You either 'elp us now and live, riskin' the chance t’ stay alive later, or ya die now by my 'and and tha' of my friend.”
“He’s upstairs, on the top level!” shouted a man from the back. “He was trying to put out the fires and get the last transports ready to leave.”
Nixon singled him out and called him forward. He was short and dirty. He looked like one who hadn’t worked a real job in his life. A drifter from place to place, looking for opportunities with high reward and minimal effort. “There’s a helpful fella. Tell me, how might we make it up there from here?”
He pointed down an adjoining hallway and stammered, “Through…through there. Emergency stairs lead all the way up, unless the fire has gotten in and blocked the way.”
These fires were nothing to him. “I’ll worry about tha’. Thank ya for yer help.”
Nixon turned, careful to keep at least one eye on the group, when Sho stepped towards them. “Why worry about the last transport? He has a million troops on the ground. What’s one more ship?” A good question Nixon hadn’t considered. Surely Izuku must have more than enough support from the troops that had landed and the fighting machines and ships that were everywhere.
No answer from the little man, or any other. The bladed shield whirred to life, coming closer and closer to the one who had chosen to speak. The look of malaise was gone from Sho’s face. What remained was an icy stare and his infamous battle high.
“I’d answer. He’s no more forgiving than I am,” Nixon added, curious about the answer.
“Team Yosuru. The last transport is entirely Team Yosuru,” he spat out, the fire around them growing stronger now that no one was trying to douse it.
“Team Hug?” Sho asked, clearly incensed now thinking the stocky man had said something funny. Even without Power, Nixon marveled at how quickly Sho could change moods and aura. Then it dawned on Sho what he was saying.
“Embracers!” the man cried out, rushing to get the words to his lips. “A force of twenty Embracers of the Power! Everyone he could find to join his cause!”
Sho’s eyes widened at the revelation. Twenty! That many was a number too terrible to consider in his weakened state, even with Nixon and a wielder of the Shi Kaze on his side. He should have known. To come so far and risk so much was one thing for Izuku, but all it would have taken was one strong-willed Embracer to wipe out some or all of his forces with the essence of the Power at their command. Izuku was strong but often didn’t like getting his hands dirty if possible. What better way to ensure victory in case such a situation was encountered? How long had it taken to arrange this whole attack? How many decades, or even centuries, had his brother been planning this foray? Patience was always Izuku’s weak point. It would seem he was over that particular foible.
Nixon could handle his fair share of rogue Embracers, but more than five was enough to get the better of him, depending on the Powers each had chosen to specialize in. This put yet another crimp
