Metal danced and sparks sang.
Morgan weaved through the storm of swords and the waves of hands, wielding twin smoke-swords to deflect that which he could not dodge. Still, it was an uphill battle, growing steeper by the second. The incoming Malkuth thralls showed no signs of slowing -- and at any moment, Praetorian Five could just convert them into more swords.
He gritted his teeth.
The tiny Praetorian hovered high above the battlefield, occasionally moving to dodge a beam of heat launched from Rufus’ shield. Morgan clenched his fist, the hilt of his smoke-sword shifting to accommodate him. He knew if he could just get over there, he could take that thing’s head from its shoulders… but clearly it knew that too. It wasn’t just using height as an advantage -- it was orchestrating the swords around it to fend off anyone who tried to move in.
This was infuriating. It wasn't just that Morgan felt powerless -- he could handle feeling powerless -- but that he felt he was only just powerless. If he could just reach a little further, move a little faster, he could end all of this with the swing of a sword. That was what boiled his blood.
Powerless.
Useless.
Worth --
A rainbow light washed over Morgan from behind.
“Huh?” he blinked. He turned his head. He did not dare believe…
…but there it was.
In the distance, from atop a building on the battlefield, a multicoloured aurora was shining into existence. A veritable thunderball of Aether, cracking and thrashing as it lit up the night. But not just any Aether. His Aether.
Morgan's grip relaxed slightly.
Wu Ming.
----------------------------------------
“I have to say, pal,” Wu Ming grinned. “You got me good for a second there. I'd be sweating, if I still had the pores for it. You only made one mistake…”
The Black Dog tried to pull away, to no avail. At the moment its attack had made contact with Wu Ming’s head, that entire side of the Clown's face had unravelled and wrapped itself around Black Dog's hand, binding it tightly in place. Wu Ming grinned with half a mouth.
“...you had to go and act all spooky. So slow? I mean, I'll give you a seven outta ten on the theatrics, but you gave me a good half-second to respond. Not good, not good. When you do that kinda thing…”
His grin widened.
“...you get this kinda thing.”
He swung his head, flipping Black Dog with just his own neck strength and slamming it into the concrete below. Deep cracks erupted in the surface of the roof as the beast's body made contact, shadows spilling away like blood before being pulled back into the central mass. The creature screeched in what might have been pain, or what might have been frustration, but Wu Ming didn't take the time to consider it.
After all, he still had work to do.
“You know what?” he giggled. “I tell a lie. You made a second mistake too… although, I don't think you could have done anything to avoid that one. I'm just that good, after all.”
Wu Ming's feet had changed too. They'd unbound themselves into structures like roots, winding across the rooftop -- and entangling the four massive heads that, until moments ago, had been attacking ceaselessly. They hung in the air, occasionally twitching, red Aether sparking from their empty sockets.
“Ol’ Curse Hand gave me the idea. Just a little bit of delicacy, just a little bit of infiltration…”
The red Aether shifted into a rainbow hue.
“...and your Aether constructs become my Aether constructs.”
They changed shape instantly, the four hacked heads straightening and rising into pointy spikes that surrounded Wu Ming and his quarry. As more strings lunged out from the ground to secure Black Dog fully, Wu Ming shook his face free and back flipped out of the border he'd created. He grinned and crossed his arms as he landed, like he was taunting an animal in a zoo.
“Restrainer Towers,” he explained, slapping his palm against the nearest tower. “They're a pain, but this ability gets a little messy if I don't prepare for it in advance. You ought to feel lucky. Not many people get to be hit by this.”
Black Dog writhed and thrashed against its restraints, but too late -- even as the strings and ropes snapped, Wu Ming was already launching his attack.
While Black Dog had to escape the circle, Wu Ming just stood there, a soft smile on his lips.
While Black Dog had to fight for its life, Wu Ming needed only to raise a hand and bring two fingers together.
While Black Dog had to break free, Wu Ming had never been bound… not once in his life.
Snap.
String Theory: Black Hole.
What Wu Ming created between those four towers was not a true black hole. Even for him, such a power would be impossible. What he brought forth into reality was only a figment of his imagination, his own conception of a black hole, a dark void that pulled in and devoured everything…
…but, then again, Wu Ming had a pretty good imagination.
The Black Dog howled as the singularity appeared above it, as it was dragged forth into oblivion. Its body was cut into pieces by the remaining strings -- and those pieces flew up as a reverse shower, disappearing into the black hole’s shroud. Even the howl was eaten in the end -- suddenly cut off, only its echo remaining as an auditory corpse.
Wu Ming whistled as he watched. Even with the Restrainer Towers, the pull of commandeered gravity was immense -- his long hair hung in the air like a curtain. It took all that he had -- okay, not really -- to tear himself away and turn towards the trail of destruction their battle had created.
First things first. Did Aclima and Nael live through all that? It’d be a bummer if they got crushed by debris.
Wu Ming adjusted the shape of his hands, creating an ability to help him dig through the rubble, and took one step forward.
He didn't take a second.
Instead, as he opened his mouth to take a breath, something sprayed out. Something that should not have been in his body anymore to begin with. Something red. Blood.
Wu Ming looked down… and saw the long, black blade that had pierced through his chest.
Oh… shit.
The Black Dog spoke.
“D-Did… you t-think…” it began in a halting, discordant voice -- and then, as if its consciousness had cleared its throat, it continued with a soft and articulate malice: “Did you think you could kill me with an attack like that, Wu Ming…? Zero out of ten.”
Wu Ming twisted his neck to look over his shoulder. The black hole still hung in the air, still pulled at everything in range… but somehow, impossibly, a huge black arm had languidly reached out and speared Wu Ming on its fingernail. As it crooked its index finger, lifting Ming into the air -- gravity pulling him further down the digit -- his mind boggled.
How had it done this?
How had it survived inside the black hole?
How had it managed to turn his own attack against him?
Oh. He'd said it himself.
“Just a little bit of delicacy, just a little bit of infiltration... and your Aether constructs become my Aether constructs.”
Wu Ming blinked…
Me and my big fat mouth.
…as he was pulled back into the jaws that had been stolen from him.
image [https://i.imgur.com/Oo5a2Dr.jpeg]
----------------------------------------
Appointment crushed a head in each hand.
Grunting, he dropped the two corpses to the ground, holding his side as he fell to one knee. The carcasses of Praetorians Two and Three were already indistinguishable from those of any other drone -- the Queen had reclaimed their abilities the moment their defeat was clear, as was her habit. In a way, Appointment was grateful for that tendency of hers. It made last-minute turnarounds much less likely.
Of course, that also meant that destroying these Praetorians was pretty much pointless. Even if Appointment crushed these insects, the Queen could just promote other drones and hand them another set of powers. It would never end.
Even that was leaving Praetorian One aside. It was a cut above the rest. The first Praetorian was still flying up high, launching javelins of light that decimated the landscape. Unlike it's brethren, it wouldn't come close -- there was no need for it to. In its mind, it had already landed the killing blow.
Praetorian One’s Aether Armament, Dignity, was a nasty one. Once you were wounded by it, metal thorns would be continually manifested from the point of injury outwards, slowly but surely skewering you from the inside. Even now, Red Aether shone from within the sealed wound in Appointment's stomach.
Painkillers dulled the worst of the agony, and his considerable infusion prevented most of the thorns from actually manifesting in his body -- but that didn't mean he was out of the woods. Finding themselves unable to appear within Appointment's flesh, the thorns were taking the path of least resistance -- and so they were manifesting inside his Chassis instead. Slowly but surely, his suit was being torn apart from the inside.
His options were limited.
Even just guarding his own body against Dignity was taking an absurd amount of Aether. If he were to spare any of that to protect his Chassis, he'd be opening himself up to the Armament's continuous attack. Before long, he'd be dead. Not an option.
Hiding in the ruins like this would be fruitless too. The Queen would continue to send new Praetorians down here until they finished him off -- and even if they didn't, Praetorian One was going to get lucky with one of his javelins eventually. Not an option.
It was tempting to launch himself out of the rubble, to make a beeline for Praetorian One and finish him off quickly… but no. Even discounting the other Praetorians that could attack once he exposed himself, there was no guarantee he'd be able to defeat Praetorian One in a timely fashion, given his current condition. There was a good chance he'd just end up wounded even further. Most certainly not an option.
Appointment took a deep breath. There was an option, there was one option… but it wasn't one that he'd wanted to take. Even so, it seemed he had no choice.
Thank Y I've got insurance, at least.
----------------------------------------
The white feathers collected in Praetorian One's hand like specks of light, forming another starlight javelin. It pulled its arm back without hesitation, preparing to hurl the weapon -- humming in idle satisfaction at the destruction its previous attacks had already wrought.
Beautiful.
The complex Appointment was hiding in was now little more than a hill of shattered stone, the buildings brought down by Her Majesty's radiance. Ordinarily, Praetorian One would have assumed that his target was already dead at this point… but no. He could sense that Two and Three's lives had ended after he'd dispatched them in pursuit.
A dead man could not dispatch his enemies.
So he would stay the course, and he would continue to bombard the ground below. It wasn't as if he was low on time. The other Praetorians would dispatch the targets while One kept Appointment occupied -- and if this battle did stretch on further? Well, that would just mean Appointment's powers would desert him, and that was fine with One.
He had never been one to turn down easy prey.
Praetorian One went to throw the javelin -- but hesitated. Far, far below, the rubble had shifted, just slightly. Movement? Two and Three were definitely dead, so it could only be him.
One adjusted his aim, just slightly --
-- and then the rubble exploded outwards, Appointment blasting out of it like a rocket.
Praetorian One reacted instantly -- hurling the javelin with all his strength at the incoming assassin. The polearm flew through the night, carving a path of white in the air behind it. Surely, being hit by it would spell certain death for anything that lived.
Appointment recognised that too. As he flew forward, undaunted, he raised his gauntlets -- and unleashed the payload he'd been keeping on standby. Bullets and rockets, missiles and grenades, a curtain of annihilation to meet the javelin as it came in. The explosion shook the earth and sent smoke pouring in all directions like the clouds of a manmade thunderstorm.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Did I get him? Praetorian One pondered.
Appointment had been swept out of sight by the sheer destruction he'd unleashed. It wouldn't do to be optimistic, though. If there was no corpse, there was no death. Those were words assassins did well to live by.
And that was why Praetorian One was able to leisurely move out of the way of the punch aimed for the back of his head, seize hold of Appointment's wrist -- and drive Dignity right through his heart.
“You got sloppy, my friend,” he chuckled. “But not to worry. It happens to the best of us.”
Appointment twitched, writhing against the blade running him through, against the thorns that must have already been creating hell inside his body. But then… he stopped. He stopped, and he chuckled.
“It sure does,” he said -- and his helmet popped open.
It was empty.
----------------------------------------
Remote Working.
Appointment held out his hand as he watched his Chassis fight from a distance, twitching his fingers to manipulate it like a long-distance puppet. Here, crouched among the rubble of the buildings, he was unprotected. There, fighting as an empty beast of metal, he was unstoppable.
With a twitch of his pinkie, the Chassis snapped its helmet shut again.
With a twitch of his index, the Chassis wrapped its arms around its prey.
With a twitch of his thumb, the Chassis flared with red lights -- and a synthesized voice called out into the night:
“Self-destruct sequence initiated. Please evacuate the immediate area. Self-destruct sequence initiated. Please evacuate the immediate area.”
Uninfused, the explosion would have been enough to kill anything in the immediate area. Now, charged with Appointment's Aether? He was a little concerned if he'd be okay, even so far down below.
“Get off!” Praetorian One screamed, struggling against the Chassis' grasp, white wings twisting and lashing out like whips. “No, no! Appointment!”
The wings struck at the Chassis, again and again, but although the metal was dented and although the glass was smashed… the armour continued to float, and the armour continued towards its end. Thrusters flared from its back, carrying it and Praetorian One further up into the sky.
And.
In the last moment, Praetorian One's desperately roaming gaze finally met Appointment's distant resolution -- their eyes linking between the sky and the earth.
There wasn't time to say much.
“BASTARD!” Praetorian One screamed --
-- as an explosion like an infant star swallowed him whole.
Appointment crouched in the long shadows the inferno above cast, wincing as he saw his Chassis destroyed. It wouldn't be easy to get another suit on that level, even if he had the money for it. He'd gotten used to it -- and now, without it, he almost felt naked. Given his reduced capability, maybe it would be best to leave the area now, and play things safe?
No. He had a reputation to maintain. There were targets still waiting to be dispatched, and a mission yet to be completed. He'd just have to make do and proceed with caution.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out his backup ‘Chassis’. A paper bag with two holes for his eyes -- it didn't compare in terms of fighting strength, but at least it would conceal his identity. From here on in, he'd be relying on his own infusion and abilities. He'd need to take every advantage he could get.
Appointment turned to sneak through the rubble towards the shopping centre… when a white light poured over the world. Immediately, he whirled around. That wasn't the light from the explosion -- that had already started to fade. This was something new.
This was something dangerous.
Oh, he thought, his eyes widening as he beheld the sky. You've got to be kidding me.
----------------------------------------
The Queen of Malkuth was possessed by a grotesque sentimentality.
Generally, individual units within the Hive barely even qualified as tools. They were conveniences, nothing more, to be discarded as soon as the situation suggested it. Even the Praetorians were but momentary existences, dreamt up and thrown away in less time than it took to blink.
But Praetorian One… that was different. It had been the first.
It had been the first to bear the title ‘Praetorian’.
It had been the first to be promoted into the Hive’s ranks.
It had been the first to fall to their might on the planet Malkuth.
For the Queen of Malkuth, Praetorian One was like a beloved trophy, or a pet She was fond of. She wouldn't allow it to be destroyed so easily. To do so would wound Her pride… and since the day She had come into existence, She had never once been wounded.
Your Majesty?
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Godsheen”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Under Blue”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Pressure Barrier”
Abilities to defend what was left against the explosion.
Oh, I am unworthy…
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Red Wine Manipulation”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “A Single Flower's Growth”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “The Worm”
Abilities to heal the wounds of the carcass.
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Consciousness Redistribution”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Nerve Bolster”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Shelleystorm”
Abilities to keep the spark of being active in those precious few moments.
Ah, oh, the pain… such glorious pain, Your Majesty… your gift to me…
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “UnDisease”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “A Cure for Wellness”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Self-Domain”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Excel Replicant (N)”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Excel Replicant (W)”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Excel Replicant (E)”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Excel Replicant (S)”
Generally, a body of the Hive could only handle having so many abilities stuffed into it at once. Even a Praetorian only carried eight at most. Praetorian One's body was already breaking down. The Queen would need to intervene.
Abilities to stabilize that warping form…
Ha…
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “The Crimson Gaze”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Mourning Star”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Field of Naught”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Mind's Knife”
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… “Thought Segmentation”
Abilities to bridge that gap between body and mind…
Ha…
DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY… DOWNLOADING ABILITY…
…and, of course, abilities to satisfy the Queen's own curiosity. At this point, part of Her just wanted to see what would happen. She watched with great interest…
HaHaHaHaHaHaHaHa
…as the swarms of abilities warred against each other, slammed into one another, and finally…
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
…the chorus reached a crescendo.
HALLELUJAH
----------------------------------------
Appointment raised a hand to shield his eyes as the white light shone in the sky. The last remnants of the explosion were swept away as if they were nothing. Deep in the aurora, a humanoid silhouette drifted into being, far larger than the one that Appointment had destroyed.
A voice rang out, clear and clean as Appointment's own thoughts.
BE NOT AFRAID.
Red eyes looked down upon the earth, witnessing and judging all.
BE NOT AFRAID, SAMUEL SENTZMANN.
Shining white wings swept through the sky, tracing dominion through the smoke and ash.
YOUR FOUL SELF NEED NOT DREAD, FOR I AM GRATEFUL TO YOU…
An avatar of light descended on the world, wings spread wide, cleansing all around it just by the fact of it existing.
…GRATEFUL FOR THE DIVINE ADORATION YOUR SIN HAS REVEALED.
image [https://i.imgur.com/sdT1LaO.jpeg]
----------------------------------------
The black hole exploded into blood like a popped zit -- and a second later, Wu Ming went flying out of it.
He fell, tumbling off the building -- slamming against a balcony -- before finally dropping into the alleyway below. Blood -- his own and that from the black hole -- covered his form. Rain pelted against him from above, as if trying to drill him further into the filthy floor below.
The Clown of the Supremacy groaned softly. He had certainly seen better days. How long had it been since he'd felt actual pain? Both of his legs were gone, torn away by the Black Dog -- and blood now oozed impossibly from the stumps. He knew he could weave new legs if he put his mind to it, but… his consciousness felt curiously distant.
Oh, he realized dully. I'm getting my ass kicked. This is what it feels like.
“Oh, there’s a sight for sore eyes,” the Black Dog chuckled.
It stalked out of the darkness. Once again, its shape had changed, returning to a bipedal form -- but now hunched over, more bestial, like a true werewolf. The canine head was gone, and in its place was a mass of twitching black-and-white lines, like a chalkboard drawing come to life. Within a few seconds, that mass stabilized -- and Wu Ming found himself looking into an inverted mirror.
The beast grinned a crescent grin -- one that Wu Ming would never have vandalized his handsome mug with.
“You don’t look too surprised,” the Black Dog said. “I guess you figured it out. Didn’t you?”
Its voice was unsettlingly close to Wu Ming’s own, too. Close, though. That was the worst part. If it had been exactly the same, that would be fine, but it was just slightly different. It growled where Wu Ming sang. It hissed where Wu Ming purred. There was nothing worse than a mirror with a crack in it.
But still… it wasn’t wrong.
“Yep,” Wu Ming said, forcing himself into a sitting position against the wall. “Your ability -- your real ability -- is to scrape data from the Aether you come into contact with.”
The Black Dog’s grin stretched further up its face.
“You probably got a taste of Curse Hand’s aftereffects first,” Wu Ming went on. “I bet you were able to get the basics of ability development from that -- so you were able to cobble together that corner power. Then you learnt how to talk once Manron hit you with his ability. Then…”
“Then…” Black Dog cut him off. “I fought you, didn’t I?”
Wu Ming clicked his tongue. He’d really messed this one up. “The more I hit you with my abilities, the more you learned… and the more you were able to develop your own abilities. Me taking over those constructs of yours was what really did it, though, right?”
“You basically gave me free access to all the information you had,” sneered Black Dog. “I’ll give you a ten out of ten for convenience, if nothing else.”
“Still,” Wu Ming sighed. “Don’t you feel ashamed?”
The Black Dog cocked its head. “Ashamed? How so?”
“I mean… basically, you’re a copycat. Is that really okay? I mean, given your species?”
“Hm?” Black Dog said, and then -- after realizing the joke -- giggled quietly. “Ah, well, things just worked out that way. I guess you can teach a new dog old tricks, can’t you?”
Wu Ming cringed. “Oh wow. You’re proud of that, huh? Tell me that isn’t my sense of humour.”
The Black Dog gave no answer to that. Instead, it just rolled its eyes and raised an arm -- the hand shifting into a massive razor-sharp claw in an instant. It narrowed its eyes in anticipation as it looked down at Wu Ming.
“Well,” it said, nearly salivating. “It’s been interesting… but I think I’m done with you now. See ya… Wu Ming.”
So… Wu Ming thought. This is what dying for real feels like, huh?
…
This sucks.
The Black Dog brought its arm down --
-- but before it could reach Wu Ming, the limb went flying off.
“Eh?” it said.
“Eh?” he said.
The second strike came a second later, a black sword whipping through the air -- and this time it struck Black Dog’s head. Half of its face was cut away diagonally, the mass dropping to the floor and dissipating into shadows. Snarling in annoyance, Black Dog swept its remaining arm through the air as a scythe -- and the attacker leapt backwards to avoid it.
Yes… the attacker.
A young man clutching a sword of smoke, with the purple light of determination in his eyes.
Morgan Nacht.
“Hands off my teacher,” he growled, staring down the abomination.
For its part, the Black Dog just grinned again.
“Oh wow,” it said. “Oh, this will be fun, actually.”