The beast's patterns of attack grew increasingly more intricate, spears of sonic death coming at ever more impossible angles, but each served to unravel a piece of the illusion that swallowed Orion. A grin graced his face as a second arrow found its mark, the stifled groan of the creature the only mark of the man's success.

The Wanderer couldn't land a counterattack with every exchange, but he was growing adept at identifying the goblin's attacks. While the patterns had become more complicated, they still moved in time with the music, always starting on a beat. There was little variance to the attacks, almost as if each moved in a predetermined way, causing his senses to prickle as one to seven points of connection homed in on him.

Initially, Orion had noticed the pattern was woven mostly of attacks of One, Four, and Five spears. As he evaded these webs with apparent ease, the beast adjusted its assault to include many more attacks of six and seven spears. The increased volume of spears he found his world inundated with served to show him connections more clearly than ever.

One thing had become more apparent than any other. Vibration was the underlying connection to everything the beast did, from its attack spells to the illusion that rewrote the world. Each pattern was tied to a particular vibration--a sound. The vibrations of each attack served to weaken the creature's illusion, which wouldn't have been enough for most, but with Orion's particular set of skills, it was more than enough to give him an edge.

He let another arrow fly as he positioned himself in the gaps in the paths of half a dozen spears. Disappointingly, no pained exclamation followed; rather, he felt a dull whooomp, not audible on any scale Orion could hear, that seemed to push the air away from his target.

"I'm not sure how you're pinning me down like this, you damned human bastard," the musical gob called, "But you'll have to do better than that if you want to get through my Wall of Sound."

"Now, now," Orion called back, "Can't be givin' away all my secrets here, unlike some of us. I wonder what'll run out first, though: your magic or my arrows." His grin turned to a smirk. "I'd bet on my arrows any day, y'know."

Silence followed his taunt, but the man knew that didn't mean the jab hadn't landed. He knew that sometimes no answer was the best response to hope for in these situations, even if it meant he might be in for more danger.

Sure enough, the most complex web of spears he'd felt yet moved to ensnare his position. In quick succession, he heard a sequence of One, Seven, Six, and felt that each was imbued with the beast's signature energy. The attack was so different from the well-meshed sounds the beast had used to that point, a jarring discord that threw off his rhythm. Orion frowned, seeing that there was no way to avoid them all. Times like this, he wished he could move like the kid. Simply feeling where an attack might connect wasn't always enough, but—there!

He prepared himself for the pain; he held no doubt this would hurt like hell. Still, he felt it was the one move he could make that could mitigate most of the damage and even have a chance to respond in kind. As he moved with uncommon grace, he rolled his left arm back as a spear of sound caught his shoulder, the low, rich tone of One holding power enough to throw him through the air, evading the other spears in the process.

That's gonna leave a mark, the man thought, but as he landed, he readied one last snapshot. Before he'd even fully released the string, a tearing in his shoulder decried the end of its ability to work properly, but his magic had already seized the missile, guiding it to its destination with a squelch.

A dramatic scream, markedly lacking musicality, announced his success.

"That's IT," the beast roared, "First, you disrupt my beautiful harmonies, then you make me resort to discordance. You'll pay for such an ugly creation," the beast growled as the tempo of the ambient music, unabated since Orion first entered the chamber, changed again. Even as he knew the pace didn't increase, per se, the energy packed into every measure of music increased remarkably. The frayed edges where the beast's attacks had unzipped its own illusion found themselves rejuvenated, mended by an influx of steady vibrations.

"You humans are always so infuriating. No proper appreciation, and always with the jokes," the creature rambled on, "It's like you just don't know how to recognize your superiors. Do you have any idea how much I gave up to be here, limiting myself to such a basic understanding of Sound? Of course you don't! Really makes me regret giving up my power. Why we're supposed to chance it 'helping' people like you, I'll never understand. That's above me, though. Time to show you what your future holds."

The smile the creature wore was evident in its tone, and there was nothing pleasant about it.

The music, more percussive than it had been, was filled with accented beats and swells, and Orion's eyes went wide as he dropped to the floor. An arc of vibration, more intense than any of the spears, flew over his head, exactly where his chest had been a moment ago, with an audible humming and visible distortion. It sang of intermingled vibrations, each strengthening the next, woven into a dense chord of power.

Where it impacted the wall, it left a deep score, as if from a massive sword strike, before the illusion again swallowed all evidence of the damage. Above Orion, materializing as though from nowhere, a man with wild hair and unseeing eyes swung an axe down towards him in a descending, dooming arc. He rolled sideways, sweeping the newcomer's legs as he passed. His bow, discarded where he'd landed, wasn't going to do him any more favors in this fight, damn shame, so he kicked it aside where it might survive the kerfuffle.

Hope I can find that again when all's said and done, or I'm in a heap of trouble movin' forward, he thought, but can't cross that bridge if I wind up dead.

Pulling a chain from one of his many pockets, he began to spin a length that finished with a fastened weight. His left shoulder twinged from the minor role it played, and he winced.

Least I won't need it near as much as with my bow, but this puts me on the clock. Better take out this bastard's illusion.

Mirroring the actions of the stranger, he brought the metal orb down towards the man's head with the weight of inevitability. The man did not dodge, nor have the chance to acknowledge what hit him; his gaze still distant as his part in the battle ended.

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A large part of Orion expected the body to fade away, but it lingered, a puddle of red pooling beneath the man.

Laughter rang from the walls of the room, echoing in a carefully curated way that served to increase the menace it emanated.

"I hope you're ready to dance with some illusion-bound fools," Maestro sneered, "so wrapped up in their own worlds, they can't help but heed my orders, not that they even know they're mine. Shame more of you don't stumble your way in here, but at least my people are good enough to bring me the dregs that survive."

A pit grew in Orion's stomach as the reality behind Maestro's word dawned on him. This beast enslaved people in its twisted magic, and it didn't seem like they were any the wiser. Some might think that a mercy, but Orion was repulsed. The very thought of such an existence, trapped within your body, lost in a place no one might find, disconnected and forgotten, was anathema to his purpose.

Within his chest, a connection that gave off an unshakable sense of hardiness sang out, driving itself deep into the pit within him like a fisherman's line. It gave off a feeling he didn't expect to come from that place: hope. It emitted a sense of all the things that he'd once enjoyed: of family and a warm hearth, of meals shared with loved ones, and, more than anything else, of persevering memory.

"I ain't gonna say I take pleasure in it," Orion said through gritted teeth, "But if it's me or them, I pick me ten times outa ten. I'll remember 'em, though. I always do. Least I can do for the poor souls."

Two goblins materialized before him, each wearing the blank expression of the man he'd just lain to rest, each seeking to sink its ragged blade into him.

Following instinct, Orion launched his weight above him as he jumped, connecting his body with the momentum of the ball and allowing him to reach an unusual height.

Ani was right, Orion said, a touch of awe in his eyes, fightin' like this makes you try new things.

The bodies fell to pieces beneath him as multiple sonic blades, each thrumming with beauteous sound, tore through them.

"And you probably figured I'd only be sending humans at you," the beast said with a snicker. "Nope, not me. I'm nothing if not a champion of equal opportunity. There's room enough in my world for all who vex me."

Orion had spent the fight focusing on vibrations, cuing him into his enemy's attacks and, occasionally, its position. Resonating with the connection that sank into the pit of his past, he felt something he didn't expect, in the wake of the sonic slashes' destructive influence.

Tuned in as he was, he could almost hear the sound of his friends from behind a void of silence. The presence of each resonated with a unique vibration and, even through the barrier that isolated this room, making him feel so cut off, he knew that he wasn't alone. All he had to do, he knew in a moment of clarity, was align his own vibration with theirs, and the connection could not be denied.

In a passing moment, he wondered what he might see through Anilith's Earth Sense, inherently tied to vibrations as it was, but he forced the thought away.

She collapsed just from brushin' against this stuff…no reason to think you'd fare any better, Orion thought, best leave the thinkin' for later an' just finish this.

The mark on his hand seemed to pulse with the thought, whether in alignment or encouragement, he couldn't tell. Either way, it felt right.

Orion spun his chain, using his newfound trick to dodge around the men and beasts that seemed to appear from nowhere, always out for his blood. All the while, sonic spears and destructive chords pursued him relentlessly. He wasn't above silencing some goblins, especially knowing they might be reborn.

Shit, might even be doin' them a favor. A touch o' madness is surely better'n this.

Still, Orion couldn't justify hurting his fellow men if he could avoid it. Maybe it would be better to put an end to it all, but maybe there was a better way. Not that it mattered much when so many became collateral damage from Maestro's continued assault. Through it all, Orion wove his way through the web of connection, always zeroing in on his true opponent.

He was a moment of stillness in a symphony of chaos, and destruction followed where he moved.

Despite his efforts, Orion was faced with a dilemma. The enemy had full control of the fight's direction, and he was just responding. If he didn't force a change, it wouldn't be long before he was worn down and defeated, inevitably bolstering the ranks of the beast's slaves.

Maestro hadn't moved much since Orion had abandoned his bow, entirely devoted to conducting the vibrations and maintaining control of the fight. If the Wanderer had any time to appreciate the chaos, he might have found it beautiful. As is too often the case with beauty, it was accompanied by no small amount of danger, which unerringly made it hard to appreciate.

Between the percussion, the timbre of the pipes as they belted out the bassline, and the rapid melodic vibrations, seeming to come from countless strings all working in harmony, the space surrounding Maestro seemed more wall than air.

The music in the chamber had grown to such an intensity that Orion almost saw more than heard it, peering through the illusion through the distortions against the creature's bewitchment created by so many vibrations.

The room was just wrong. What he felt was utterly disconnected from what he felt.

Where it appeared, to all his mundane senses, that Orion danced around an empty, ornamented room, he felt a more cluttered space layered beneath the veneer. Maestro stood surrounded by cages, while instruments that seemed too crude to create the sounds that reverberated in the room lined the walls. A stink Orion didn't know how he'd missed crept through the holes in the enchantment, further amplifying the dissonance between the two images.

Amid the dissonance, a hidden piece threaded its way through the music, a pattern he'd overlooked. Throughout the sea of sounds, a current of silence wormed beneath the surface. There was never a moment without noise, but that didn't mean every voice was always singing. It was in these pockets of silence that Orion had unwittingly found safety, but now that he noticed the bigger picture, a thread of connection slowly formed between him and the beast.

He moved with newfound confidence, not dodging but knowing where safety awaited him. Following the vortex of silence, he grew steadily closer to where the beast lurked. Each foe lost themselves in the grips of concentration, as they moved to their own rhythm, neither opening their eyes for the distractions that might be, one seeing only the Sound and one the Silence.

When the moment finally arrived, Orion snapped his eyes open and saw his foe before him. However he'd wormed his way through the beast's defenses didn't matter to him, no more than the bodies that littered the room. All that mattered was that thread of connection.

With a twirl of his chain, the weight found its target, bludgeoning Maestro's temple before Orion brought it around again. Thrice, the sphere made impact, and then, Silence proved itself the victor.

Guess he didn't ever know what he was fightin' against, Orion thought, but he shoulda known that no Sound sings forever.

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