Griffon's Watch

Dr Haylock's Sanctum

Ethan Hawke Spirit Core Total: 1500

What I wouldn't give for some shitty elevator music right now…

The party was descending into the deepest depths of Griffon's watch in the eerie elevator that had appeared in the aftermath of their last battle.

They'd talked strategy in the journey down here. Ethan was powered up by this point – his skills honed and refined through upgrades and possessions that made him something now truly unique. His Drytchling body felt like it was practically bursting at the seams with barely constrained strength. The additional ice spells recovered from Lysandus's body provided him with an extra helping of AOE and Instant Target damage. Coupled with the skills of everyone else in the team, there wasn't anything they couldn't take on.

Even so, Ethan reminded the team that they'd have to keep close ranks. The Doctor's main ploy was diversion and distraction – in separating and isolating you, and in trying to get in your head. To prevent that, they had to stick together.

They'd been through hell, but they'd been through it all before. Even separated, they had found each other. They knew the Doctor's tricks and had mastered all his little games.

Now, the final curtain call was coming.

Everyone had fallen silent, save for the raspy breaths of anticipation that filled the cold air. Down here, the further they went, the greater sense they had that there was no going back.

When you stare into the abyss…

Ethan wondered if Sys had spoken that out loud. From the looks of everyone else, it seemed unlikely.

We've seen a lot since leaving Sanctum, Ethan replied.

True. And it's up to you to decide what to think about it.

Ethan scoffed. How do you even make sense of all this? All this chaos means nothing.

You had wars in your world, didn't you? Are you telling me the humans who started them couldn't justify their actions?

Of course they could, Ethan replied tetchily. But it's not like I was there to see any of it…

Well, here you are, Sys sighed in his brain. And its time for you to decide what kind of Archon you are. Because you're still clinging to that human part of you.

Ethan narrowed his eyes, glaring at Lamphrey who slumped against the far side of the elevator.

It's just like she says, Sys continued. With all your predecessors, there's a pattern, isn't there? Do you know what it is?

Ethan sighed right back at him.

I'm assuming you've got some theories on that?

Well, I was there, wasn't I? And even if my memories of each one of them are hazy, even I could see the visions Lamphrey sent you. Each of them – even as monsters, they still clung to their humanity. And that's exactly what killed them.

Because they couldn't accept that they'd been reborn as killers?

Because they couldn't accept that they'd been reborn with a job to do – that they knew was their job. Each of them believed in their own fantasies in your world, didn't they? Each of them died with a final, desperate wish in their hearts that they needed to have fulfilled. And that's exactly why Kaedmon drew them here.

Ethan stiffened. Because he knows our wishes are what make us weak…

Exactly. And –

…but it also makes us who we are.

He looked suddenly at Fauna, who was fixated on the rumbling metal beneath her feet.

"Hey, Faun," he said. "When this is over, what's your plans?"

The Hopla looked at him in surprise. He expected her to do her characteristic blush. Instead, she gave him her honest answer:

"I'd like the children to see the sun," she said. "I'd like their school – and more schools – to be on the surface."

Ethan nodded. "Now that's a dream worth pursuing."

He turned to Tara. "And you, Tara? What's next for you?"

The Minxit scoffed. "What? Provided we don't all end up like mincemeat down there?"

Ethan waited for her answer, and noticed how her eyes flickered towards Klax for a brief moment.

"…I wanna travel the world," she said. "Maybe try and find a few of my old sisters, I dunno."

"An honorable desire," Klax said. "One that I believe your sisters would be proud to know."

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Impossibly, it seemed that it was Tara who was blushing now. She turned away from the dogman's gaze.

"…yeah, well, whatever," she huffed. "How about you, dogbrain?"

Klax leaned back against the rumbling metal walls of the elevator and sighed.

"I will retire," he said. "And perhaps tend to a garden."

The entire party started giggling at that.

"What?"

"You!" Tara spat. "I can just see it now – the great and venerable war-leader of Sanctum, growing a little patch of tomatoes just outside Lucent. Shooing crows away and being his own sheep-dog."

"It – well – I have often thought that the life of a farmer is good, honest work. A peaceful way for an old dog to spend the rest of his days. Am I wrong?"

Ethan chuckled. "Not at all. In fact, I think it would suit you perfectly. Fauna can do a little field trip and show her kids exactly what an honorable hybrid warrior looks like."

The old dog laughed, and then leaned back against the dark metal of the elevator's walls.

Ethan nodded, sweeping his eyes over the team as they silently acknowledged the dream of the dog-man.

Because really, all their dreams were the same.

I suppose there was a point to all that sappy discussion? Sys asked.

Does there have to be? Maybe I wanted to show you that our fantasies aren't bad things. Maybe I just felt like filling the void of silence with empty words. Take your pick.

When Sys said nothing back, Ethan turned his attention to Lamphrey in her corner.

"What about you Lamphrey? What's next for you after this war ends?"

The Tialax eyed him, her expression unreadable.

"When this is over?" she asked. "In truth, I do not think my mind can conceive of war ever being over. Perhaps this war and that war, but not war."

Ethan frowned but understood. Her answer came from seeing the fall of her heroes more than once over the centuries. For a creature who lived as long as she did, who had seen the worst this world in its history had to offer, he was sure that was the only answer she could give.

"But…I hope," she said. "It is all one can do."

The elevator suddenly racketed to a halt, and its onyx doors threw open to reveal the belly of the beast.

"All I really want, Ethan Hawke…is peace."

The smell of stagnant air wafted into the nostrils of the party – penetrating even Ethan's Host's wooden nose. Before them stretched the residence of the madman himself. A hall to human sin.

It was worse than anything he could have imagined, worse than the bleakest stories he had heard told of Doctor Haylock's cruelty. Here, in a vast chamber carved into the very bedrock beneath Griffon's Watch, the air was thick with rot and desperation. A haze—sour and sickly—clung to every surface, illuminated by wan torches that flickered along the cavern's walls. At first glance, the Sanctum might have been mistaken for some arcane laboratory of old, with tables and desks and half-finished contraptions lining the stone floors. But the truth revealed itself in the glow of flickering light: enormous glass vats, each filled with a swirling solution thick as curdled milk, stood like silent guardians around the perimeter. Floating within these vats were nightmarish abominations—twisted hybrids of beasts and men, their limbs fusing and separating, jaws dangling open in frozen screams.

Flanking these vats were tables piled with organs, severed limbs, and other remains whose shape was too warped or severed to easily distinguish. Here, a torso was fitted with insect-like appendages; there, a ribcage housed a nest of slithering tentacles that twitched at the intrusion of fresh air. Blood and fluids dripped steadily into troughs that encircled the room, connecting at the center to a larger basin whose bottom was impossible to see in the dim light. The flicker of torches on metal instruments gave them an unholy sheen, a promise of unimaginable torments they had already performed on living and dead alike. It was a chamber out of the darkest nightmares—a living testament to Haylock's unrestrained experiments.

Lamphrey reeled back from the room, her eyes closed tight.

"S – she is here."

Ethan turned back to see the Tialax's pained concentration.

"She…hurts."

Klax clenched his fists. Tara appeared by his side.

"Remember what we talked about," she whispered. "Don't lose your cool."

The Lycae gulped once, but nodded. Ethan got the impression that this moment had been building up in his mind for a long, long time.

"Remember: we're here for her," he told his team. "Jun'Ei takes priority."

"How very, very valiant."

Sitting at the far end of the room, half-bathed in shadows, was the man himself.

"Haylock."

Ethan came forward, the team following behind, weapons drawn, spells ready, each one of them hungry for their own specific brand of vengeance.

It was strange. Seeing him sitting there in an easy chair, hands folded together on his lap – he didn't look at all how Ethan had pictured him. His narrow frame seemed ill-suited for a place of such monstrosity, as if a stiff breeze might blow him away. He was old – far older than any human Ethan had seen in this realm. His bald scalp and blackened lips didn't immediately exude fear.

But the mere presence of him, with his black robes clinging to bone-thin shoulders, exuded a suffocating aura of menace. The ephemeral smile crossing his pale lips made Ethan's stomach turn. Haylock wasn't gloating with manic glee; rather, he looked amused, as though an old friend had come calling at just the right hour.

"I would say I've been expecting you, but such cliché introductions would probably bore you, Archon."

The party crept forward, and Ethan signaled to Lamphrey.

"Scan the room" he murmured. "See if you can find her."

"I'm afraid I have to disappoint you and your friendsm" Haylock continued. "You see, although I made great pains to make this moment special for you, I'm afraid that even I am a little star-struck. Words fail me. I had long imagined what it would feel like to bask in the presence of a true Archon. But now that you're here, I confess that I am a little…sheepish."

"I wish I could say the same," Ethan growled, every spine on his back quivering as he drew closer to the little man in the chair. "Your reign of terror ends here."

"Hah!" Haylock spat. "Now that is a good line. Heroic. Spoken like the end of a tale of heroes and villains where might makes right and songs are sung only of the victors."

The odious little man licked his frigid lips.

"Tell me," he said. "Is my realm not beautiful? Is it not a perfect encapsulation of the unity your kind wishes?"

Lamphrey whispered, "She's close…"

"Ah, pain," Haylock grinned. "Is that really all you have to offer me? Is that –"

"You're going to die today, Haylock," Ethan spat. "We're way past the time for words."

"Agreed. I know what you're here for. And as a reward for your efforts thus far, I suppose you deserve to finally look upon it."

With one simply slick of his fingers, a series of lambent green torch sconces activated across the sanctum, throwing their otherworldly light onto the proceedings.

And illuminating the thing that was directly behind Haylock.

Ethan stopped, stared, and felt his mouth open of its own accord.

"What…"

Tara shook. Fauna covered her mouth. Lamphrey looked like she'd already seen exactly was being shown.

And Klax – he flat out denied it.

"No…"

What they were looking at was a large vat filled with intensely bubbling, viscous liquid.

And floating inside was a brain, and spinal cord.

"Oh?" Haylock chuckled. "You mean you don't recognize her? Why, it's your dear beloved Jun'Ei, my good Lycae. The woman you swore to protect. She's been waiting for you all this time…"

The cackling laughter of the Doctor filled the room, amplifying the horror that what they'd all fought and bled for was nothing more than the last living piece of Jun'Ei all along.

Before anyone could say anything, Klax had already started running.

"K-Klax!" Tara screamed.

But the Lycae's senses were gone. Before him now was nothing but a red-haze of rage, and he charged the chuckling Doctor with one word on his lips:

"BASTARD!"

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