Wednesday, November 18, 2020

Page 2769

Five more hostiles were closing in, his visor warned him. Crowe's men. All using pan-rozum with various metallic elements. Abbas had identified each of them in previous encounters, but their names didn't matter to him, for the most part. He'd only wanted to know if there were other infamous names to be wary of. Thankfully, there weren't, but there was one who kept distinguishing himself as a more threatening opponent than the others.

Otto Konig. Abbas had never heard of him before this war, and according to the suit's database, he was a fixture of Crowe's otherwise frequently-rotating cast of subordinates. That, at least, implied that he had the Man of Crows' trust. And after butting heads with him several times, Abbas could see why.

The way the man fought was not entirely unlike that of Melchor Blackburn. Not as refined or overwhelming, perhaps, but his aerial mobility might have been superior. Possibly. It had been many years since Abbas had sparred with Darktide, so perhaps that was an unfair assessment.

Either way, Konig was threatening enough that Abbas didn't want to let any of his kin fight him alone. He used the suit's visor to keep a near-constant track of both him and Crowe. If either of them got too far away, he would move to intercept.

Which was a problem, currently, because while Konig and the other four lackeys were coming in for another attack, Abbas just barely noticed that Crowe was instead moving toward the civilians.

This could not be allowed.

Abbas picked an opponent that wasn't Konig and blasted straight through him like a cannonball through a wet paper towel. Pan-rozum or not, their body couldn't hold up against a simultaneous full burn from the suit's six jets.

Konig gave chase, of course, as did the three slower enemies, but none of them would be able to catch him before he caught Crowe.

Another flock of birds, however: that was different story.

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