Chapter Text
Patrolling was one of the many things Gepard was good at, his skills of observation sharper than most, perhaps second only to those of the Supreme Guardian herself. It was why she, and his men, trusted him to patrol the front lines and keep an eye out for any sign of advancing corrosion. Even the slightest hint of something wrong didn't get past him.
That was why his slip-ups were so glaringly obvious, as if he'd broadcasted his failures to all of Belobog.
Thanks to the help of the Astral Express and its Trailblazers, descending like a blessing from beyond the stars, the Stellaron that caused the Eternal Freeze on Jarilo-VI was sealed and taken away. Despite their help, though, the damage had already been done. The corrosion stopped spreading, but that was about it - countless fragmentum monsters continued to appear and wreak havoc, and if anything, it seemed like they were mutating. Bird-like monsters with extra wings, monsters that took on the form of fallen guards, beings that took on the form of shuddering, clanging balls of metal; Gepard saw it all, and he killed even more.
He was barely scraping by, as it was.
If the Silvermane Guards were considered stretched thin before, he didn't even want to think about what they would be considered now. The reunification effort was in full force, and the Underworld hadn't been immune to the encroaching corrosion. They had their own battles to fight with, their own robots being corrupted and turned against them. These days, Bronya barely even read his reports anymore, instead opting to have him summarize the day's events as she sat at her desk with her head in her hands. The loss of her mother had been harder on her than anyone else. Gepard had to remain strong to be a crutch for her, a loyal pawn that would obey her every order and demolish any obstacle in the path of Preservation.
(She'd nearly cried when he referred to himself that way, insisting that if anything, he was hers and Belobog's most precious knight that they couldn't exist without.)
Pela, who had often been the one to drag him away from his post and to the dining hall, was also caught up with her duties to the point he was lucky to see her once a week.
Unlike when he was younger, he couldn't rely on his older sister Serval. She'd accepted her reinstatement as an Architect and worked closely with Bronya, now studying the lasting effects of the Stellaron and researching methods to push back and eventually cleanse the corrosion. Serval rarely left Qlipoth Fort anymore and was no longer there to visit on a whim, popping up to scold Gepard for his self-destructive work ethic and dragging him away to eat and rest. Lynx, on the other hand. . .she was still a bit young to understand the gravity of his occupation. It was better for her to stay safe on the Landau estate and enjoy her youth, blissfully unaware. He preferred it that way, and the occasional letters she sent him were more than enough to remind him of what he was fighting so hard to protect.
It had probably been a day and a half since Gepard had had a real, filling meal, and at least four since he'd actually slept. He couldn't afford to take the time to sit down and unwind long enough for the knots in his stomach to unravel so that he could actually keep down his food; it would take even longer to pry off the layers of armor to lay down comfortably in his own bed without metal poking at his flesh.
"-tain? Captain?" A concerned voice wafted through Gepard's thoughts, stirring him from his scrutiny of the endless plains beyond the restricted zone.
The man that stood beside him seemed somewhat familiar. William, maybe? "Yes?"
"Officer Sergeyevna asked me to pass a message on to you. . .she said that there've been several reports and sightings of fragmentum monsters concentrated around Everwinter Hill. Your sister- Architect Landau-" he stuttered, "said she suspects that the remnants of the machinery on the hill have been acting as a catalyst to the corrosion and essentially spawning more beings."
Gepard said nothing. He'd had his own suspicions that the increased number of monsters they've been beating away from the restricted zone were coming from that direction.
The silence continued until William spoke again. "Sir?"
"Yes?"
"Did you. . .catch what I said?" He seemed nervous. Or perhaps irritated - Gepard couldn't tell.
"Hm? Yes. Everwinter Hill. I'll go check it out now."
"That- that's not what I meant!" He said quickly, trying to stop Gepard from leaving without actually getting in his way. "Officer Sergeyevna just wanted me to let you know, she said there isn't much to be done right now, not yet." He was lying through his teeth, and it could easily get him fired, but Pela had also sternly ordered him to play down the situation to avoid spurring Gepard into action. It seemed he'd failed, miserably.
"Thank you. You're dismissed."
With anyone else, it would lead to a write-up and possibly even expulsion, but most words went in one ear and out the other with Gepard these days. At times he felt almost like a robot, comparable to the one known as Svarog that Bronya had brought up a few times in the past; but this was his duty. The Silvermane Guards were Belobog's indestructible shield, and he would not be the soft spot in it.
Gepard vaguely perceived a few guards calling out to him; he simply nodded as he passed them by. He was more focused on trudging through the snow, putting one foot in front of the other and not tripping over his own boots. He'd done that twice yesterday, and the look Dunn had given him had made his neck prickle uncomfortably. He wasn't the only one that stumbled over their heavy, steel-toed boots. Why was it an issue when it came to him?
It took him more than a few tries to orient the gear bridge correctly, but after rotating it several times, Gepard began trekking towards Everwinter Hill with his guitar case in tow.
"Captain Landau!" A gruff voice called out over the whistling wind. "A word?"
Gepard shuffled to a stop and turned his head to the side slightly.
"Where are you off to? It's almost half past three, you're off duty at four."
"Everwinter Hill. I received a message from Officer Sergeyevna."
"I got the same message, Landau. " It must've been Dunn. He wasn't looking at who was speaking to him, anyways. "We're well aware of the situation. I've already arranged to take a squad out there myself. We've got this covered," he added softly. "Go get some rest. You can't even handle the gear bridge right now, let alone the fragmentum."
"Your squad? Full of fresh recruits, right? The journey to the hill will be too much for them right now. I've got it."
A heavy, gloved hand reached out to grab Gepard's shoulder, causing him to stumble. "You're not listening to me, dammit! You've worked yourself to the bone, Gepard. I'll handle it."
"I won't be long," he said plainly. "A quick survey. Back before five." Gepard nodded, more to himself than Dunn, and continued walking once more.
No one else tried to stop him after that, and he rotated the bridge back to close off the path. It wouldn't do to leave a passage into the restricted zone. The journey to Everwinter Hill was relatively short if you knew the shortcut through the Corridor of Fading Echoes. Gepard found himself climbing the seemingly endless steps up the hill before he knew it. It'd only been, what, ten, fifteen minutes? The sun was still up, peeking through the clouds. He'd be back on time.
As the platform at the top of the hill came into view, a flash of movement and a loud clang shook Gepard to attention. Strangely, there were no fragmentum monsters nearby, but there was a figure rooting around the base of what once had been a sort of altar that had hosted the Stellaron.
"Halt! In the name of the Silvermane Guards, I command you to step back with your hands in the air!" At once, Gepard settled into a defensive stance and brought his case forward. The figure froze for several heartbeats before straightening up slowly, hands at their sides rather than in the air.
"Geppie! Gepard, my dearest friend. What brings you here at this time? It's nearly five! I've heard you get off work at four these days."
"Koski." He may have been sleep deprived, but there were only two people on this planet that called him Geppie, and the person slinking towards him was not Serval. He squinted and blinked away the snow flying in his eyes as he watched the man closely.
"Still not on a first name basis, hm? You wound me."
"What are you doing here, Sampo? You know damn well this area is restricted to everyone." Cussing at others broke Gepard's preferred code of personal conduct, but he was beyond being polite. He didn't have the energy to watch his mouth.
Sampo shrugged casually as he continued to wander closer. "Oh, y'know. Looking for something to sell. Everything up here is busted anyways, I figured I could salvage some of the tech. The reunification hasn't solved all the Underworld's problems overnight, but I'm sure you know that." He stopped a few feet from Gepard, taking note of the way the captain leaned heavily on his weapon. "You look tired."
"My condition is none of your concern," Gepard growled. "Shut up and give me your hands before I drag you back by your hair."
With a half-hearted smirk, Sampo ignored the warning and began to walk past Gepard. "My hands are empty, see? I'm not stealing anything, so can you let it slide just this once?"
Rather than answering, Gepard lunged forward to grab Sampo's arm. He was too slow, though, and missed by a few inches as the nimble man dodged him. His foot slipped as he overcorrected and he ended up falling forwards. He would've taken a tumble down the steps if it weren't for Sampo catching him with an arm around his waist.
"Careful, soldier. Maybe I should be the one escorting you back?" Like always, his tone was teasing, but he did nothing to mask the furrow of his brows.
"Back off!" Gepard steadied himself with his case and glared at Sampo with as much venom as he could muster. "Just. . .leave. With my luck, Dunn will be waiting at the bridge. He'll take you in."
Sampo just laughed. "If I see him, I'll tell him I ran into you. But there's more than one way back to the city from this hill, you know. Hope you find what you're looking for!"
Before he could snap at him again, Sampo had disappeared down the hill, and Gepard was left to gather himself up once more. More than one way back to the city echoed through Gepard's head, sending a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. If Sampo could sneak away without running through the restricted zone, that meant that somehow, somewhere, there was a gaping hole in their defenses. That was unacceptable, a slaughter waiting to happen.
Sampo's presence at the top of the hill gave Gepard a certain, uneasy confidence that there weren't many fragmentum beasts in the area. There were no traces of any recent scuffles, and if there were any lying in wait, he was almost certain he would've heard an angry noise from Sampo. Those assumptions and poorly drawn conclusions had to be enough for now.
He'd done what he'd intended to do - head to Everwinter Hill and survey the area. It definitely wasn't five yet, despite what Sampo had said earlier. He was just messing with Gepard, as he always did. It was time to head back to the restricted zone, and Gepard had every intention of actually sleeping tonight, tomorrow's duties be damned; he had a strong feeling he'd end up sleeping well into the next day as it was. That was the cycle he'd fallen into for nearly the past two months; stay awake for days on end until his body gave out, eat whatever wouldn't upset his stomach, and sleep for fifteen hours, if not more.
It was hard to tell if Sampo was losing his touch with his snow-based 'footprint hiding technique', or if he'd purposely not hidden his tracks as he waded through the snow in a path leading away from the main stairs. Knowing the man and his painfully confusing ways of returning favors, it was most likely the latter option. Gepard chose to follow it after a split second of deliberation. If he didn't do it now, he wouldn't be able to sleep no matter how bad he wanted or needed to - not when the thought of a potential back door to the city was sitting unexplored. The wind would blow snow over the pathway within the hour.
With a resigned sigh, Gepard started down the path, his case digging such a deep trail in the snow that he could follow it back if needed. I just need to see this through, he told himself, more than once. Follow the path until Sampo's footsteps disappeared, scan the surroundings for any possible route towards the city, and turn back. He'd write a report as he ate and send it off before he collapsed.
The sun was, regrettably, undoubtedly, setting. Even the stars rested more consistently than the captain. As he continued forward, the narrow and crooked passage crowded by outcroppings of stone slowly opened up to a vast, empty area. Belobog could be seen directly in the distance, and it was far closer than he'd wanted to believe. He had to get back, speak to the others - redirect their defense efforts to metaphorically cover their asses before they got bit. Gepard immediately pivoted on his heel and began heading back towards the restricted zone at a brisk pace. Before he could make it even thirty paces, though, a single, reverberant footstep nearly stopped him in his tracks.
No - perhaps he'd misheard it, hallucinated it. That was common with fatigue. Another thing common with fatigue was a lack of foresight, demonstrated in the way Gepard slowed to a stop and snuck a glance over his shoulder. A dozen feet away, standing starkly against the blank snow, was an enormous monster born of the fragmentum. Even hunched over, the thing was easily triple Gepard's height. There were no features to discern - merely a jagged mess of crystalline shapes, mashed together to create something that walked on two legs. The monster had a weapon of its own that resembled a shield.
There was a stomach-churning thought that flashed across Gepard's mind; if he were to become corrupted, is this the kind of monster he would become? Immovable, indestructible, and hell-bent on preservation?
He had to escape, now. This monster was unlike anything he or any of his fellow guards had ever witnessed, and there was no way he could ever dream of defeating it himself. Gepard slung his case across his back and broke into a run with ears strained for signs of being followed.
A massive chunk of ice hurtled into the ground ahead of him and he was forced to change course, now running parallel with the city. He summoned a wall of ice between the two of them and made a break for the city. It was inevitable that the monster followed him, Gepard realized, but if it persisted until he reached the city, at least someone would see them coming soon enough to gather reinforcements and heavy artillery.
That was his plan until a massive fist swung his way and hit him square in the back; his spine probably would've shattered if it weren't for the heavy-duty guitar case strapped to him, but the deadened crack that he heard signified that the case hadn't withheld the blow either. Instead, he tumbled forward head over heel until he skidded to a stop with his face in the snow.
Before he could even think of getting back on his feet, Gepard felt a harsh tug on his cape. It was so securely attached to the rest of his uniform that as the monster continued to pull on it, it took the rest of his body with it, soon yanking his collar against his throat. He’d only attached it so snugly in the first place because of Serval’s antics, snatching it off his back whenever she felt like bugging him. Funny how he thought of her even at a time like this.
Now wasn’t the time to be nostalgic, though - Gepard was steadily being strangled by his own clothing, dangling in the air by his cape. The beast retracted its arm to hold him close enough to feel its breath fanning across his face. Normally, if he were caught in such a position, he would’ve been able to pull himself upwards to release the pressure on his throat; the added weight of his armor and thick uniform was now making it near impossible to do anything more than slip a few fingers behind his collar, especially not in his weakened state.
Black spots were already starting to dance around his vision. He risked choking faster by reaching for a knife, but there was little else to do in this situation. Gepard unsheathed the long knife he hid at his side and slashed it directly across his cape, causing him to fall to the snow in a heap. Certainly, the beast hadn't expected that - a daring look back revealed the pathetic thing to be in a stupor, staring at the strip of fabric held between its claws.
You don't always have to be the hero, Gepard. Why were his sister's words echoing in his head, why now?
But she was right. Right now, he would be the coward, and he would run to hide behind the walls of their city the same way he hid behind her outstretched arms as a child. He only had so much time before the behemoth behind him came back to its senses.
With his case abandoned and his cape discarded in the snow, Gepard almost felt like he could run a marathon. The snow was deep but it was like it couldn't slow him down, not when he had his eyes set on the prize of safety. His lungs were heaving and more than once he had to push down a coughing fit spurred on by the glacial air. He realized that he spent so much time holding his ground that he never really stretched his legs, made a break for it, ran with his life on the line. Even with the beast lumbering after him, he just felt so. . .alive.
More than once, chunks of ice were hurled at him and he dodged each one. Belobog was getting closer and the shape of the buildings were becoming more distinct. There was a guard post that housed munitions at the leftmost entrance, and if he headed that direction, he was home free. Gepard barely paid attention to the fact that the noises behind him had subsided. Perhaps the monster had given up on its chase, but he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice and look back.
Overhead, the sky seemed to darken somewhat drastically, but sunset was also approaching. No cause for concern, he told himself, no cause for concern. He kept repeating that to himself but had barely gotten to the third repetition when that looming, Aeons-forsaken beast hurtled to the ground in front of him. Gepard didn't even have time to skid to a halt before the thing planted its palm against his chest, hard enough to send him flying once more.
Now there was nothing to cushion the impact and there was a sickening snap that reverberated through Gepard's chest, rippling around his torso and down his spine until the sting was felt from head to toe. When he landed, there was no doubt that several of his ribs had been instantly broken - likely his sternum and possibly even his clavicles as well. He couldn't even feel the rest of his body to do a full assessment, couldn't tell what position he had crumpled into. The only thing that occupied his mind was the beast ambling into his line of sight once more before it wrapped its hand around his torso and lifted, like a child with a doll. It didn't matter that his arms hadn't been pinned to his sides. He was paralyzed, though if it was literal or metaphorical, he couldn't tell.
Gepard dimly watched as Belobog became smaller and more distant; the monster was carrying him further away from the city and further into the north, into the unknown. There was still an unsent letter to Lynx on his desk, an invite to Serval's concert hand-decorated by Pela on her break. A novel that Bronya had recommended to him. A parting plant from Stelle that needed watering. He needed a haircut, a shower, a break.
His hands wouldn't stop twitching.