18 Years Ago
There can be tragedy born from similarity. Of having seen something, someone, somewhere that reminded you enough of what you loved that you could see the bones that formed it, yet all in the wrong places. Something that was not right in all the wrong ways. It was seeing the bust of a dead lover, a picture showing a memory of happier times, a city that was in so many ways your city, but was decisively not in all the ways that counted.
In this way, it was the haunting resemblance that the streets of Washington D.C. bore to Katrina’s memories that made her stop for the briefest of moments. The light of her flickering torch revealed restaurants she had eaten at, potholes she had swerved around, graffiti that had been on the walls so long it felt as though they had been built with the crude art already painted on them. But the scenes around her bore no more resemblance to the city she’d spent her whole life in than a corpse at a funeral resembled the person it had once been. So as she restarted her flight through the stormy darkness, Katrina knew there was no better metaphor for her hometown. Because Washington D.C. was dying.
As she tore through the driving rain, breath coming in short, sharp gasps, Katrina did not see the vibrant life of a thriving city; rather she sprinted through the shattered remnants of dead one. Each corner she turned was a tableau of apocalypse; windows of shops were smashed, their contents looted or left in disarray. Squares that had once held picnics and celebrations were now overrun with the detritus of a city under siege – barricades constructed from park benches, statues defaced or toppled. The frigid night air was filled with cries of pain and the scent of death, and only her torch and occasional bursts of lightning illuminated the narrow maze of streets through which she ran.
The rain, unrelenting and cold, dripped down her face and soaked through her clothes, but Katrina paid it no heed. Reaching an intersection she came to an abrupt halt and threw up her hand above her. The group around her, a mix of nearly two dozen former colleagues, neighbors, and strangers caught in the maelstrom came to a stop around her, frantically searching the darkness. They were holding clubs, sticks, and even a few frying pans - whatever they could get their hands on to defend themselves. Katrina was still, trying with all her might to stare through the night while ignoring the weak fists banging lightly against the back of her head.
She turned her neck and felt a pang in her heart as her eyes met the crying pair looking up at her. The discomfort and fear inside them was clear, even inside her carrier and raincoat pulled so tight it covered almost every inch of the toddler’s face. She adjusted the carrier so that her lips could meet Seraphina’s cheek and gave it a soft wet kiss, trying to send all the love and comfort she could muster in her heart without daring to drop the gun she clasped in both hands.
“Sorry baby, just a little longer.”
“Mrs. McIntyre, what do we do? Where is Lady Edson?”
The voice coming from behind her was scared, quavering with each syllable. Katrina saw almost everyone around her looking at her the same way and knew the group was mere moments from fleeing in every direction, militia or not. She stared down the alleyway to her right and gripped the knife so tightly her knuckles turned white and the grip creaked between her fingers.
“Quiet!” Had that been…
Two years ago, the thought of entering the OR and operating on a patient kept her up at night. Turns out there were things medical school couldn’t prepare you for. Not. Even Close. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her mind and focus her thoughts. It had been subtle, a small warping of the air, but she had thought she had seen…
“At your three!”
A mass of writhing shadows surged through the darkness, charging into the weak arc of torchlight surrounding the group. At first, all she could see was a formless blob that seemed less like individual creatures and more like a singular, malevolent tide. As the shadows neared, however, individual forms began to materialize from the darkness - limbs elongated and twisted, eyes that sucked in light and spat out terror. Their movements were erratic, spasmodic, yet synchronized, converging on Katrina's small band of survivors with relentless aggression.
The group around moved as if running through slime, falling back towards her in frenzied chaos. On the outer edges, Katrina saw the first Virus reach a man, perhaps the one that had called out to her. He tried to run towards the group, but stumbled, and the Virus was on him, hands and teeth tearing him to ribbons. His screams cut through the night and tore into her soul.
She could see the look in the eyes of the people around her and knew they would break. They all fancied themselves heroes, people who could fight for themselves and protect those they loved, but when it came down to it, none of them were ready for this. They were doctors, and lawyers, gardeners and waiters - not soldiers. They would break, and that would be that.
But not her. Never her.
“Elizabeth Blackwell!” she screamed and felt power flood through her. A beacon of light punctuated the night as energy flooded the crossroads and, for a second, pushed back the darkness. She grew taller, rising above everyone around her so that she towered over the battlefield, her wet cloak covered by a shining white medical coat. She still held her gun in her left hand, but her empty right now held a long metal scalpel. For a second, the world was still. Even her daughter behind her stopped whimpering and seemed to gasp with wonder. Then everything sped back into motion.
“[Aura of Courage]!”
The light around her burst out and infused the people around her. Backs that had been bent in fear straightened and wild eyes calmed. The group tightened into an arc surrounding her, shoulder to shoulder, faces etched with determination. Each one clutched their makeshift weapons tighter, their breath misting in the cold air as they prepared to defend themselves against the onslaught. Holding out her pistol, she leveled it at the chest of the foremost Virus. Her heart beat wildly, but her hand never faltered.
The bullet punched a hole straight through the head of the lead Virus and it stumbled, falling back. The onslaught seemed to slow for a second and, in the light of her aura, the Virus seemed slower… weaker.
“Now! Push them back!”
The group surged forward as one, emboldened by the light. Metal, wood, and stone met dark, hazy flesh as the battle erupted in earnest. Each member of Katrina's militia fought with a ferocity born of raw survival instinct, their strikes fueled by adrenaline and fear. Their weapons sliced through the Virus, dissipating the darkness they cut through.
Katrina, standing tall amidst the chaos in her gleaming white coat, was right in the middle. She moved through the fray with precise, calculated steps, her pistol firing shot after shot, only briefly pausing to reload. Bullets whistled through the air, each one finding its mark with deadly accuracy. Every time a human was injured, she was by their side, healing their wounds and purging the Virus’ corruption.
The Virus, repelled by the force of the militia’s counterattack, began to falter. Their forms, which had seemed so solid and menacing in the shadows, now flickered erratically as if struggling to maintain their shape. Katrina’s aura not only emboldened her group, but seemed to physically weaken their foes. Members of her group, buoyed by her power, found gaps in the enemy’s defenses, exploiting every opening with shouts of defiance. A few of the more experienced members of her band had archetypes of their own and used skills to cut through the shadows with devastating effect.
Yet the onslaught never ended. For every Virus that dissolved under their assault, it seemed that two more emerged from the shadows. Despite the strength of her power, their numbers were overwhelming. The defenders, though heartened, were not soldiers, and their stamina began to wane. Katrina saw this, her eyes flickering over her group, noting the heaving chests and slowing arms, and even felt her own arms beginning to grow heavy.
Suddenly, from the deeper shadows, a new wave of Virus surged forward, even larger and more aggressive than the last. Her daughter screamed behind her, cries ripping through her eardrums and her heart, and she felt the militia’s resolve begin to waver. They couldn’t stand here, not without more support.
“Retreat! Cover each other!”
Katrina silently begged her group to hold tight as they’d been trained and not turn and flee. The ragtag militia had done everything they could over the last three months to keep the city from being overrun, but tonight, they needed a true hero.
“Damnit, where are you Tirelle..?”
Tirelle was supposed to be that person, not Katrina. She was a warrior, a killer, a [Vanquisher]. She had stayed behind to protect the city, yet nobody had seen her in months. Katrina was a doctor… A [Healer]. She belonged in a hospital, not running through the streets in the middle of the night trying desperately to save the lives of her comrades and neighbors.
“Mrs. McIntyre, we can’t hold much longer.”
Katrina turned and saw a frightened face beside her. The kid couldn’t have been 20, hands shaking on a metal baseball bat gripped in front of him as if it could ward off the virus. All around her, the militia was faltering and people were relapsing into fear or on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. She looked desperately for a way out, but there was no shelter and if they ran, the Virus would catch them. She had another skill she could, but once she used it, that would be it.
“[Healer’s Haven]!”
A dome of translucent, yellow light shot out from her body and expanded in a hemisphere around them. The Virus crashed against the wall and stopped short, smoky flesh sizzling where it met the light. Inside the barrier, the group breathed a sigh of relief as their wounds rapidly closed and their energy recharged. A few of them collapsed to the ground, thankful for the brief respite. The boy’s face was full of wonder and relief as he smiled and walked over to the edge of the dome.
“Why didn’t you do this before? Now we can just leave this between us and them.”
“Won’t work.”
While everyone else looked like their energy was recovering Katrina’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps. Unable to stay on her feet, she collapsed down to the ground, barely maintaining the energy to stay seated with her daughter strapped to her back.
“Why not?”
The boy turned back to her, face puzzled and then concerned. He put his hand against the wall, holding it there for a long moment. It didn’t burn like the Virus’ did, but the light still stopped his hand like a solid wall.
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“Can’t move through it once it’s up… And I can’t move the dome either.”
An older man walked up between them, staring down at her impassively.
“So we’re stuck.”
Jim lived next door to her and was one of the first to join her militia. He had a sword that rested on the ground beside him and his gray beard was flecked with blood from a scratch on his cheek.
“How long can you hold it?”
“A few minutes.”
Sweat poured down Katrina’s face and her form was starting to fuzz.
“I’ve been working on this for weeks, but I’ve never held it more than five…”
The boy’s eyes went wide with fear and realization.
“We’re trapped! They’ll come through and slaughter us as soon as the shield comes down!”
Jim’s face reddened as he turned toward the boy, but Katrina could see the fear barely masked beneath the anger.
“Calm down boy, get a hold of yourself. We just need to hold on for a few minutes and Lady Edson will come for us. Right Katrina?”
Despite his tone, there was uncertainty, almost pleading in his eyes as he looked back at her.
“Right… Just a few more minutes.”
Katrina looked around at the frightened faces of her makeshift militia, their eyes reflecting both terror and a small, flickering hope. She tried to offer them a reassuring smile, but she could feel her own energy dwindling rapidly, the skill demanding more from her than she had ever exerted. She adjusted her daughter in her carrier, ensuring she was secure and somewhat shielded from the horror surrounding them and gripping onto her foot for comfort. The little girl had quieted down, perhaps sensing the gravity of their situation. Outside the dome, the shadows shifted and churned, pressing against the barrier with increasing agitation as they searched for a weakness in her protecting shield.
"Stay together. We must believe help is coming."
Katrina looked at Jim, giving him the smallest of nods. He stood up, moved closer to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"We're with you, Katrina. We'll stand together till the end.”
Others nodded around her and gripped their weapons. The determination in their eyes hardly outshone the fear. They were so small, so fragile, yet so brave in their own way. Few had an archetype, let alone a hero to summon, yet right then, they all looked like heroes. The boy looked at her, eyes on the verge of tears, yet he held his baseball bat to his shoulder and bit hard on his lower lip.
“Can you tell us about them? The heroes I mean? You’ve met them right? All of them?”
“Quiet! Can’t you see she needs to concentrate?”
The boy looked abashed as Jim snapped at him again, but Katrina only felt warmth in her heart and almost smiled as she saw the desperate look in his eyes.
“No no, that’s okay. A distraction is good. What’s your name?”
“D-Darius.”
“Well Darius, most of them I’ve only met a few times, but I’m happy to tell you what I know. They are our heroes after all.”
Around her the whole group seemed to be closing in, hanging on her words. Even those who had been unable to take their eyes off of the Virus outside the dome had retreated back to the dome’s center and were looking at her with a mix of hope and desperation.
“They’re not mythical figures, though. They’re people like all of us. People who rose to fight the Virus before most of us even knew we were under attack. Daniel, my husband and Seraphina’s father, was one of them. He was the kindest, bravest man I ever knew - a [Defender], Hector was his hero - who put himself between us and the enemy again and again. He died… fighting in Lima when Seraphina was just six months old for a reason I don’t understand. But I know… I have to believe it was worth it. Our daughter will never know her father, but she’ll grow up knowing he sacrificed himself for her. For all of us…”
She looked down, clenching and unclenching her fists in her lap before looking back up at the crowd.
“Tirelle and Gavin are the leaders. They are so strong, so fierce, so powerful. I grew up with Gavin - we went to high school together and he was always such a goofball… laughing at jokes nobody else found funny. Now he’s a [General], and his heroes summon phantom armies to fight beside them.
Tirelle is the smartest person I’ve ever met. She was getting her Ph.D. in math at GW before all of this started. Her archetype is [Vanquisher], and she’s just as lethal as she is brilliant. And then there’s Marie-Alice, the [Adjudicator]. She lost her fiance right at the beginning, just like I lost Daniel. When I met her we both couldn’t stop crying… But again and again she still goes out there to defend us."
Katrina let her gaze sweep over the crowd.
"These heroes, along with the others, are the only reason we still have a chance in this fight. Their powers came at great personal costs, and sometimes, like Daniel, it means making the ultimate sacrifice. But it isn’t in vain, it can’t be…"
The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, punctuated by the steady hum of the barrier around them.
"Our role is to remember that we're not just fighting for survival but to uphold the values and sacrifices of those who stand on the front lines. We fight together, inspired by their courage."
The dome’s light flickered, mimicking Katrina’s own fading consciousness.
"When this barrier falls, we must be ready to defend each other and fight as they would – fearlessly, for each other and for the future,”
She was using all her strength – it was all she could do to buy them a few extra seconds.
“Use… everything you've learned, everything you've seen. Fight for your lives, for each other."
Darius seemed to find some resolve, his grip on his baseball bat tightening.
"We won't let them take us without a fight."
Others echoed his sentiment, a chorus of assent filling the small space. Each second stretching longer than the last, Katrina felt her mind go fuzzy and her strength ebb away. The dome flickered once more, vanishing for a full second before reappearing, and she imagined a thrill roiling through the Virus outside. She closed her eyes, focusing every ounce of her will into maintaining the barrier. Her thoughts drifted briefly to her daughter strapped to her back, to the life she hoped Seraphina would get to live, a life far removed from this terror.
Seconds before blacking out, Katrina released her power, and both the dome, and her form shattered into tiny motes of light. She was once again Katrina McIntyre, the nearly helpless woman of today instead of Elizabeth Blackwell, the hero of the past.
The Virus charged forward with renewed vigor and she saw Jim rush to meet them. Darius screamed and pulled back his baseball bat like he was trying to swing for a home run instead of fighting for his life. Katrina grabbed Seraphina and held her tightly in her arms, kissing her curly red hair and silently spilling tears onto the back of her neck.
“I love you baby,”
Her voice was soft as she rocked her baby from side to side, barely enough energy to do even that, as she looked into the scared, innocent eyes below her and her heart crumbled
“I’m sorry Daniel, I did my best.”
As if in response, a small piece of light fell from the sky and landed beside her. Looking at it in puzzlement, her addled mind moving slowly, she thought it was a lingering fragment from her dome. But no… It looked like a piece of paper with small bits of writing on it. Her eyes followed it blankly as it hovered up from the ground, flew over to a Virus and stuck on its back. Instantly the virus vanished in a puff of light.
“A talisman..?”
Another paper fell and then another, each one seeking out Virus and destroying them.
Jim looked at her, eyes full of as the Virus he was fighting disappeared in a flash of light.
“What’s happening?! Is this your skill Katrina?”
“No… I don’t-”
Her swimming eyes found Darius who dropped his bat and was jumping up and down, pointing to the sky.
“Look!”
Katrina shakily got to her feet, and followed his gaze.
A glowing angel hovered over the city, huge pearly wings flapping in the air. The angel was more than 20 feet tall and shone like a sun rising in the night sky. Its glow lit up the dark Virus writhing around it in pale relief. Slowly, the angel raised its arms, clutching a massive warhammer, and a shower of golden motes cascaded from its wings. Hundreds, no thousands, or talismans shot from it light streamers of holy light, seeking out Virus. The second a talisman touched a Virus, it instantly evaporated, leaving behind nothing but the faintest trace of their existence.
The crowd around Katrina gasped and cheered, their fears forgotten in the awe of the spectacle. Katrina, still clutching Seraphina close, felt the same relief, but it was mixed with a crushing sadness inside her. She watched as the angel's gaze swept over the city and alighted on a cluster of Virus to the southeast. Warhammer in hands, it flew towards them, pulverizing them in seconds before flying off to the next cluster. Everywhere she flew, a swarm of talismans followed her, lashing onto the weaker Virus and destroying them.
Darius’ tore his eyes from the spectacle and turned towards her, mouth still open with wonder and eyes shining with the reflection of the glowing angel.
“Is that Lady Edson?”
Katrina smiled at him through the lump in her throat.
“No, that’s Urielle. She’s Marie-Alice’s hero.”
“That’s Lady Hansdottir?! She’s incredible! Is that how powerful all of them are?” Not waiting for a response he ran around, waving his arms in jubilation, "It’s a miracle! We’re saved! Look, they’re all disappearing!"
“No…”
Katrina’s voice was bitter and, despite her relief, fresh tears were forming in her eyes.
While the others celebrated, Jim saw her and walked over, putting a hand on her shouder.
“What’s the matter Katrina?”
She stayed silent for a long moment, eyes unable to leave the glowing angel. She had turned Seraphina in her arms so that her baby was facing outward, cooing softly and reaching toward the light with stubby little fingers.
“It’s called a [Last Stand]. Nobody knows how, but in the right scenario, a Tier 2 can use their hero’s strongest attack. It’s incredibly powerful, as you can see, but… it kills the hero.”
“That’s how Gavin killed the Virus champion last year?”
“Yes… But Gavin has a [Pathfinder]. So does Tirelle and Eytan. So when they use it they lose the hero, but they stay alive. When Daniel did… he died as well as his hero…”
Jim gulped, looking back up at the angel soaring through the sky.
“I see… And Lady Hansdottir?”
Katrina silently shook her head, not able to bring herself to say the words. She saw the emotions running through Jim’s eyes and knew they mirrored her own. Relief. Gratitude. Sorrow. Loss. She gripped Seraphina tightly and held her tight to her chest. She was so grateful, but couldn’t help feeling confused.
“Why? Marie-Alice wasn’t even supposed to be here, she went to Shanghai… Does that mean they’re all back? But then surely she wouldn’t have needed to sacrifice herself like that. And where is Tirelle?”
As the light from the angel started to fade, the crack of dawn broke over the eastern horizon. The city's silhouette gradually became clearer under the rising sun, revealing the extent of the night's devastation. The destruction was widespread – smoke rose from fires started across the city and the streets around them were littered with debris. Yet, the immediate threat had vanished, leaving the survivors exhausted, but alive.
Katrina felt Seraphina stir in her arms, the child's movements pulling her back from her grim thoughts. She kissed her daughter's forehead gently, trying to comfort her and make her feel safe again. Around them, the group began to disperse slowly, each person processing the night's horrors and the unexpected deliverance in their own way.
"Should we... should we gather everyone? To thank Lady Hansdottir, to honor her?"
Jim’s voice broke, stumbling with hesitation. What did you do when someone like that sacrificed themselves to save you? It felt as though a god had answered their prayers and descended from the heavens, yet with the most dire of consequences. Katrina saw the weight of that on Jim’s face and new it was etched into her own as well. Still, she did her best to keep her voice steady. It wouldn’t do for any more of them to see her cry. Not now.
"Yes, let's gather everyone at the Mall tomorrow. We’ll honor her sacrifice properly. She saved thousands of lives tonight."
Jim nodded and walked away, joining the crowd of exhausted, relieved survivors returning to their homes.
Katrina turned back to Seraphina, tightening her embrace.
"No matter what comes, we will face it together."
Looking up at the sky one last time, she said a prayer of thanks to Marie-Alice. And to Daniel. Heroes that had made every sacrifice for them. Heroes they could never count on again.