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Although he couldn’t see the afflicted, he could hear their coughs from inside the rows of huts on either side of him.
Another Fallen invasion. No one was injured, thankfully. Only the structures, which had been burned down and ransacked, bore any evidence of attack.
The others would count these structures as a loss, but Silimar was different. The breakdown and destruction of his walls helped him to make them stronger. Next time, it wouldn’t be that easy. Next time, the Fallen would need something more than a Walker to punch through.
He continued his walk down the empty streets.
In the days after the attack, a fast-spreading virus had started to spread through the Lightless. At first, it was thought to be a simple strain of influenza, but the fevers got worse and death soon followed. It quickly became apparent that this was some mutated virus originating from the Fallen.
This was disastrous. It meant an entire population on quarantine. It meant strict monitoring. It meant that Silimar’s walls had to be strong enough to defend the people until they recovered. And they would because they had him.
As a Risen, Silimar was immune to the virus. He could work to rebuild what had been destroyed without rest. That was what needed to be done. Everyone was counting on him and the other Iron Lords during these grim days...
Silimar’s eyes caught on an Exo Risen crossing the street ahead of him. He was helping an older man, seeming to support his entire body weight to a shelter.
“Saint-14,” Silimar greeted at a distance.
The Exo’s eyes flicked over to him, bowing his head out of both respect and exhaustion. “Lord Silimar,” his thick accent vibrated through the air. “A moment, please.”
Saint-14 continued to guide the man into his home. Similar watched solemnly. He wanted to help, but he knew he couldn’t. Even though he was at no risk of serious infection, he could carry the virus and pass it on to the less fortunate. Saint-14 on the other hand, couldn’t carry the virus at all. It didn’t survive long on cold metal, so the Titan was helping as much as he could inside the homes of many sick persons.
“Lord Silimar,” Saint greeted again as he ducked outside of the home and carefully closed the door. “What is it you need?”
What he needed? Similar wanted to sigh. It was what these people needed, not him. These people were dying around him and he felt powerless. He shook his head, “walk with me, Saint.”
The Exo followed, falling into step beside him.
“Should’ve known something like this could happen,” Lord Silimar started. His eyes peered through the windows as they walked by. “It’s horrendous and it’s only going to rise...”
“The death toll. Do you know it?” Saint asked. It may have been the wind carrying it away, but the Exo’s voice came out quieter than usual, as if he was afraid to ask.
“I haven’t heard the toll. I’ll ask for it once this crisis is over...”
“Of course,” Saint nodded.
He looked at the Exo. “This City is my home. It has always been. I’ve watched it grow, I’ve helped it grow, and through my work and the work of everyone here, I’ve had the privilege of watching it grow stronger every day. Now,” he sighed. “Now, something is threatening to take it all away...”
“It will not,” Saint asserted.
“But what if it does,” he nearly snapped in frustration. It was walls he could build, not immunity to some unknown disease...
Saint raised his helm. “We are stronger.”