Hesitated when it mattered most: that’s the worst kind of epitaph to be laid under.
Joe is on his feet first, weapon in hand. His jaw set in determination, and his chest broad to double it – he strikes a Napoleonic figure; but this time all empire and no complex.
“We have to do something,” he says.
Whatever cynical instincts Todd is normally a victim to, well they vanish like powder in a flash-pan. He leaps up from his seated position, and the [Mercury Rod] resting in his lap slings up spinning into the air. He fumbles after it, then the rod strikes the tile an inch from his big toe with a leaden metal clunk. “Sorry,” he mouths with an agonized look, and a sheepish double handed grip on his implement.
The others barely notice, clambering upright and exchanging looks in the instinctive human need to find the fittest collective measure to panic. Next they turn to Joe in case he’s got them a reason not to.
“Okay, step one is warn everyone,” which sounds to Todd like a good start. Then a shadow of doubt clouds the tall young man’s face. “But I’m gonna need some help on step two.”
“What’s the chance we can run or shelter somewhere?” Nayira asks, lending a helping arm for Walter to get himself standing.
“We could get to our rooms,” Randall suggests.
“No,” Todd reluctantly interrupts. “We’re going to need to fight.” Candra frowns at him and he shrugs.
“Yea, he’s right goddammit,” she groans. “That’s how this works, we’re not gonna get out of it.”
“I tell you what. I’m not about to hole up and hide, just cause I got trouble coming,” Walter spits on the ground. “And what we gonna do if they get in, all get eaten on one by one?”
“Okay.” Joe scratches thoughtfully at his temple. “Okay. I mean, we’ve all got superpowers now right?”
“Not everyone,” Todd reminds him. “We’ve still got some level ones.”
“And even more folk’ll be useless in a real fight.” Walter warns. “Lemme tell you something, lot of people don’t have what it takes for combat. First time, they’ll freeze up I guarantee you.”
Nayira makes a noise which isn’t disagreement. “Worst thing though is if people freak out. We can’t panic them.”
“We’ll have to start with the folks we trust.” Joe puffs out the side of his mouth and taps his [Mercury Rod] against his thigh. “Ok then. What next? Form up a ring and put our non-combats inside?”
They chew on the plan for a moment, knowing they don’t have many to spare.
“Be easier to defend people if we held against the corner,” Todd observes.
“Yea,” Joe affirms grimly. “Yea, that sounds like a plan. Alright we gotta go, people. Be quick, be safe, be smart.” He hops backwards the first few steps. “And try to find me before it starts.” He wheels around and sprints off.
“I guess I’ll get the Doc,” Todd announces.
“No,” Nayira shakes her head. “I got to get Walter over with the level-ones.” The old man tries to protest but she is having none of it. She tugs on him less than gently, in the direction of the mass of seated Cultivators. “Let me handle Chowdhury, you handle the ESL people.”
“E.S.-what?” Todd blinks as the med tech leads her charge off. “Oh right. Then I guess I got Teo and the skinny kid.”
Candra looks like she can barely stay awake, running on fumes and willpower. “Ranger Drew,” she says unhappily.
They start to back away, but Randall hesitates. “What do I do?”
“Start with Fireman Ian or the high school kids,” Todd shouts, not stopping. “Just get people moving this way.”
Todd dodges past a confused looking man. Everyone nearby had heard them of course, or at least heard enough to be worried. The gang hadn’t been quiet; hadn’t had time to be. “Emergency meeting!” Todd calls out, trying to control his voice: to keep the edge off, and the confidence on. “Everyone needs to follow us, and hustle up.”
Searching the crowd hurriedly, Todd scans past the two small communities which don’t have the advantage of common language. He needs to find a scarlet bald head, and then a baseball cap topped over some serious acne scars. Pumping his legs, Todd darts one way then the other, stopping only to direct anyone who understands towards the corner of the square.
Maybe it’s true that folks don’t rise to an average of intelligent, but they don’t stoop to a mean of stupid either. The crowd is catching on, and the wrong kind of excitement is rising.
Heart hammering in his chest, Todd know’s he’s got to outrun hysteria here, but it’s not easy finding a specific person in this sea of white martial gis. By this point his legs and lungs are burning with exertion so he tries something unorthodox. Skidding to a stop, he slams his eyes shut. Reaching inward he puts pressure on his spiritual center. It doesn’t feel natural, and it doesn’t feel right, but the Cultivation manual had said that Cosmic Energy could empower his body so he does it anyway. The energy grudgingly spreads out through his core and limbs. Without a full set of firmly established channels though, most of his body spills out wasteful amounts. He resolves to rectify that later, but for now his eyes shoot open and a flood of renewed strength fills him.
Teo Alamilla sputters with shock as a stampeding, pasty looking Todd grabs him by the front of his gi with surprising strength.
“Teo, I need you to be chill and help me get everyone over into that corner right away.”
The man piques up to a deeper red, like he’s considering picking a fight, then reconsiders and swallows the cuss he might have used. “Yea? Why?”
“Monsters. Probably, more like certainly.” Todd looks down at his hands with surprise and lets go, backing up a step. “Sorry. Help us get people safe, and I know it sucks but get ready to fight.” He backpedals a few steps, then remembers himself. “Please,” he adds politely.
To his credit, Teo doesn’t waste a minute. To his detriment, Jingshu ends up being more of a problem. But once the young man is assured (in no uncertain terms) that he can sit out the actual danger, his help proves invaluable. A full fifty folk follows the kid, and Todd sighs with approval.
As Randall jogs over to join him, Todd watches the condensing crowd with apprehension. Alderman Donnelson’s raised voice bellows out directions, and a few other key leaders echo his instructions. Teo, Officer Bernice, Doc Chowdhury, Soup Nina, they’re all doing their damndest to keep this process orderly.
Level ones, inward. Under 18 and the elderly, inward. The politician delivers the orders in a clear resounding voice, and keeps them simple.
Meanwhile Todd clicks his tongue against his teeth in exasperation. Too many people are angling for positions of safety, and the fighters aren’t lining up fast enough. The defensive perimeter, even where it’s forming up – is uneven. Todd might not have seen a day of real danger in his life, but every gut instinct he’s got is screaming that this mess isn’t right.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Where are you headed,” he hears himself snap. A lone figure has wandered into his periphery and out from the crowd, the man strides without care or caution, walking past the [System] shop crystal and far past safety. He stops, and Todd regrets his mistake immediately.
“Gonna kill me some bugs,” Army Ranger Andrew Kreutzer inclines his head only slightly. His whisper of a voice is soft and genial and pitiless and it sets Todd’s knees near to knocking.
“Okay,” he replies stupidly.
While the slap of bare feet on stone precedes Joe, his tap on the shoulder still starts Todd to leap halfway out of his skin.
“What is he doing? What are you doing?” Joe rasps.
“Uh.”
“Shit, Drips. The pixies are coming down.” It’s an urgent and unwelcome statement, that happens unfortunately to be true.
Wondering (not for the first time) where these things keep flying off to, Todd sees the three sisters descending slowly from the sky. If their arrival deserved an adjective, ominous would be a top contender.
“I fear I have some dreadful news!” Ciforre announces. Her voice carries through and over all conversations, and the square falls silent. “We have detected the presence of an invasive non-native species in this zone.”
The ground beneath Todd’s feet trembles.
“We believe they could be dangerous,” Aefore explains.
He looks out across the plaza and strains his eyes searching.
“If we had known such a creature had built a nest under this area...” the sagely pixie shakes her head regretfully, not offering an actionable half of the sentence. “The Redburr Stinging Crab is a poisonous, burrowing land arthropod native to a nearby forest world.”
“Caqaiba IV,” interjects Aefore.
Far off, a single blue tile tilts off of its level alignment.
“It’s venom is a notorious b-alkaline, fast-acting muscle paralyzer.”
“That is a relief, sister. At least the only risk is a paralysis of the muscles.”
A surge of filthy grey muck kicks up into a growing pile.
Befor helpfully chimes in. “Oh, well the heart’s a muscle too, isn’t it?”
“In that case,” the golden warrior reconsiders thoughtfully. “They sound very deadly don’t they.”
Todd grits his teeth.
“Considering the severity of the circumstances, and the size of the colony...”
“We believe it is necessary to unlock a certain amount of your hidden potential.”
“We understand this may seem sudden. But you are here because you have been Chosen.”
“The few from the many.”
“I even think it’s fair to call them heroes. Don’t you think, sister?”
A long, probing wire emerges from the hole, then a second to join it and they twitch searchingly.
“They certainly look like heroes to me.”
“But the thing about a hero is –”
“– they deserve a title.”
“So that’s what we’re getting you!” Cries out Befor in excitement, interrupting the others. “Check your status screens, little cuties! You’re gonna love what you see.”
Getting his first look at the Redburr Stinging Crab, Todd most assuredly does not love what he sees. The thing is a large segmented bug, russet colored and big as a cat. A pair of long whipping antennae sweep out front, and the thing’s low flat body would resemble nothing more closely than a wingless cockroach; except for the jagged spike unsheathing from its backside.
“Drew, don’t be an idiot man! Get back here!” Joe shouts. Admittedly, this proves an unwise move.
The bug twists to face Joe with a rapid decapodal skittering. While its mouthparts gnash like an ugly puzzle box, the antennae whip forward and its abdomen swishes eagerly. With a horrid premonition of what’s coming, the two young men share a look of deep, commiserated grief.
“I’ll handle that one,” then Todd’s voice cracks, “you get the next nine hundred ninety nine?”
Whatever retort Joe had ready is cut short as a new [System] window appears.
ℹ︎ Title granted: Chosen
Congratulations Hero of Earth World, you are special and better than regular people!
Then an abrupt bone-thumping, tendon knitting, meat suffusing transmutation rocks Todd from inside to out. It feels… It feels like someone went through all of his mitochondria and unlocked the liquor cabinets; all at once, and just in time for Mom and Dad to leave town for the weekend.
“Come on,” he cries out. “Can’t you keep this to one crazy bullshit thing at a time?”
His muscles are thrumming, aching to be used: ones he hadn’t known he had. His mind racing, crunching; clearer. The world in sharper focus.
And that world so happens to include a two foot long bug monster leaping through the air, needle first and right at Andrew. Todd opens his mouth to warn the bearded idiot, but it’s too late.
Ranger Drew lifts the chittering, giant arthropod over his head, his eyes wild. One hand grips a struggling arm as it pops out of its chitinous socket with a spray of ichor, the other wraps directly around the six inch stinger. It’s jointed arms flail wildly, lashing a shallow cut on the man’s forehead. Then with a bellow of rage Drew, holding the damn thing by it’s most dangerous appendage, heaves it upwards and then swings it violently against the floor.
Too late for the bug.
“What is this guy’s psychosis,” splutters Joe as the other man tosses the barb and it’s attached entrails away.
“Joe. There’s more coming! He wants to fight an army?” Todd shouts, grabbing at Joe’s shoulder. “Screw this guy!” Todd turns to run, but finds himself struggling against his newfound strength. Everything about his gait has changed, and without the benefit of time to adjust, each stride is as likely a tumble as it is a progress.
“Drew!” Joe barks again. “There are hundreds more coming.” His first step launches him off balance, but he tucks into a rolling tumble, then he’s on his feet again.
The Ranger freezes, sees dozens of the crabs spilling out of the muck tunnel. In their mindless rush, they crawl and shove over and against each other – jockeying for a space in the open air. Drew reaches down slowly to pick up his dropped [Mercury Rod], as antennae begin to pivot in his direction. He raises the weapon out in front of him; then a second tile shudders and begins to tilt.
Letting out the foulest, meanest cuss he knows, the soldier makes the only smart choice left. With a score of murderous, crawling vermin hot on his heels, he turns tail and runs.