The arrow-shaped ship was not spotted by Oshya:de scouts and metahuman Workers until it was almost upon them.
The group, a small patrol that had been sent north to watch for any potential New Ludayan activities, watched in shock as the ship appeared out of seeming thin air. It did not turn on its weapons, no plasma rain peppered at the group. Instead, the group watched, hidden in the tall grasses, as the ship landed.
And as Oshya:de stepped out. Five of them, dazed and confused, looking at the ship with a mixture of awe and exhaustion.
They were collected, the five of them, and brought into the forest. At the sight of one of the larger trees in the forest, they were stopped and searched by one of the metahumans for signs of a tracker. The metahuman had the power to sense the flow of one's blood, and she stroked each of their wrists, her four eyes closed in concentration.
“Nothing in the blood,” she said, “No tracker. They're clean.”
“Come, then,” one of the other Oshya:de said to the five, “Come with us.”
By now, the Oshya:de had recognized that one of the five was none other than Hadawa'ko. But the young Warleader gave no orders. Said little to them. He looked shell-shocked, and his hands were shaking. He swallowed as he allowed himself to be brought into the camp.
The camp of his sister. Tekahentakwa's group had dispersed near and around the Site of the Settled Peace. Once, it had been one of the most important locations on all of Ganá:yeht, an oblong stone in the center of a clearing, upon which was carved images of the five clans coming together as one, a campfire between them, five Warleaders and five Clan Mothers. Together, they created the laws, sworn upon the wampum, to abandon the wars that had devastated their home.
None of that, now, of course. For Luminary had been very thorough in her destruction of all that the Oshya:de were. The clearing was just a clearing, and its meaning was held only in the Oshya:de’s hearts and minds, and the stories they would pass on to their children.
Tents had been pitched. Oshya:de and metahuman children were playing in the clearing's short grasses. The adults patrolled the clearing, a few armed with plasma rifles. They regarded Hadawa'ko's group coolly.
Tekahentakwa, Lunus Oculus, and Becenti were at one of the campfires when they spotted him. At once, Tekahentakwa's eyes went wide, and she rushed over to Hadawa'ko-
And slapped him full in the face.
“Stepping Stone says you all disappeared,” she almost screamed, “All of you! Where did you go? Where did you go?!”
Hadawa'ko didn't respond. He simply looked away.
“You went to the High Federation, didn't you?” Tekahentakwa said, “To make an alliance.”
“...Yes,” Hadawa'ko said, “Yes, sister, I did.”
“And what did they say?” Tekahentakwa asked.
The Warleader was silent. Becenti, walking over to them now, was furrowing his brow.
“Hadawa'ko, what did they say?” the Clan Mother asked.
“...They mean to destroy the world,” Hadawa'ko said, “And take five men, and five women, and keep them.”
“Keep them?” Tekahentakwa asked.
“Yes,” Hadawa’ko fixed his sister with a dark look, “Them, and only them.”
The Clan Mother stepped away in horror. Becenti swallowed.
“They... They're on their way here,” Hadawa'ko said, “Their ship.”
“Here?” Tekahentakwa pointed two fingers to the ground, “You mean, here?”
“The largest encampment of Oshya:de,” Hadawa'ko said, hoarsely, “They're going to start the... the glassing, too.”
Lunus Oculus swore. Tekahentakwa looked to be on the verge of a breakdown, and Becenti rested a hand on her shoulder.
The older metahuman looked around.
“Get me a communicator,” he said, “Get me Valm.”
***
Myron Becenti – Shimmer – and Olendris Valm had a unique relationship. Or, at least, an understanding. The older metahuman paced outside the tent of Radiohead, a frown on his face. Radiohead was hard at work, kneading his stomach fat as though it were bread, and as he did his stomach was starting to gray and sharpen into something resembling a long-range communicator.
By the end, it was as though the communicator were jutting from his skin like a technological growth. He clicked off the mouthpiece and handed it to Becenti.
“Sending out a hailing frequency to thin air,” he said, “Maybe Valm will pick up. Maybe he won't.”
“He will,” Becenti said, “Mix the hail with the phrase 'Be all our sins remembered.'”
Radiohead raised an eyebrow.
“It's the signal for Valm to know that I am here,” Becenti said.
The other metahuman's brows furrowed.
“Lapdog,” he snapped.
“I am,” Becenti said, “Send out the hail. Please.”
Despite his gruff exterior, and the voice to match it, there was something pleading in Shimmer. Radiohead heard it, and after spitting out another insult at Becenti, he clicked a button, and sent out the hail.
Moments passed...
And then Valm's oaken voice rang through the communicator.
“Shimmer,” he said, “I would be lying to say that I am glad to see you.”
“Stop this, Valm,” Becenti said.
“Or what, Shimmer?” Valm said, and his voice was equal parts angered and amused, “We had a deal, did we not? That you would control your people, keep a tight leash on them, make sure they wouldn't do something as crass as calling themselves a nation.”
“There are children here, Valm,” Becenti said, and he was pacing again, a fearful eye on the encampment. By now, news was spreading about Hadawa'ko's reappearance, the news he brought with them. The clearing was alive with movement, as people debated on what to do. Panic was starting to settle in. Already a few of them were disappearing into the forest.
“I'm afraid that you've forced my hand, Shimmer,” Valm said, “This... national infection, has spread throughout the plane. The only way to remove it is simple extermination.”
“We can cut a deal, like before,” Becenti said, “We can... Let some of us go. Let the Oshya:de go-”
“Are the Oshya:de the natives of this plane?” Valm asked.
Becenti froze.
The Prime Voice hadn't even learned these people's names. He probably didn't even know the name they had given their plane.
“I assure you, Shimmer,” Valm said, “Their culture will be quite safe. I've been looking through various conservation worlds to house them.”
“You're barbaric,” Becenti said, “You're...”
“Any word you say is but a mirror,” Valm said, “Know that I do all of this, this purge, with a reluctant hand. You should have heeded my words better, Shimmer. You should have controlled your people with a tighter grip. All of this, because of you.”
Becenti was silent. After a moment, Valm sighed.
“At least you will burn with them this time,” the Prime Voice said, “May you dream again, or whatever it is you people say.”
And the communicator went dead. Becenti looked down at it, his mouth opened stupidly, as the reality of what Valm was going to do washed over him, once more, in a wave. Old fears crept into his chest. His breathing quickened.
He dropped the communicator into the grass. He couldn't think straight. He was feeling feverish. Everyone was being too loud around him.
He needed...
He needed to sit down.
There. A nearby log. Becenti rested on it, tried to control his breathing. He could practically hear the Sovereign Melody now, the warhorse thrum of its engines, the spine-tingling breathe-in of its cannons and glassmakers…
He felt a presence beside him.
Lunus Oculus.
“Radiohead told me you tried to talk to Olendris Valm,” she said, “Right?”
Becenti nodded.
“What did you offer him?” she asked.
“I... I couldn't get that far,” Becenti said, “I just... I was just begging.”
Lunus Oculus shook her head.
“You could offer him the multiverse, and he would refuse,” she said, “You know that.”
“It worked once before,” Becenti said, “With Old Ludaya.”
“And why was that?” she said.
“Because I was of use to him,” Becenti said, “Because he was under some sort of impression that... that I had more influence among our communities than I actually do.”
He looked down at his hands.
They were old and wrinkled, like paper that had been folded too many times.
“I... we can't beat them. The High Federation, I mean. We can only sequester ourselves away. Enjoy what freedoms they allow us. Accept that which we cannot change...”
Lunus Oculus regarded him. Her orange eyes flared.
“Hypocrite,” she said.
Becenti looked up at her.
“Excuse me?”
“You're a hypocrite,” she said, “You talk all about how we cannot win in this, but you fight on anyway.”
“I don't fight to win,” Becenti said, “I fight because it's right.”
“Then you will never win, if you keep thinking like that,” Lunus Oculus said, “You were about to just hand us all over to the High Federation, weren't you?”
“I...” Becenti faltered.
“What if Valm was willing to negotiate?” Lunus Oculus asked, “What then? What would you have given him?”
The old man was quiet.
“What would you have given him, Becenti?” Lunus Oculus said, “Tell me!”
“Everything,” Becenti said, “So that they would leave”
He looked at her.
“Everything. For the chance for us to live.”
Lunus Oculus shook her head, and he could see in her eyes a breaking of some sort. She was reevaluating him.
“Do you think we would truly be alive, if that happened?” she said, “That is not life, Myron Becenti. That's just survival. And we deserve far more than that.”
***
Tekahentakwa took Hadawa'ko aside, away from the main bulk of the camp. One of the Oshya:de warriors joined them, and he was smart enough to keep his distance as their conversation became hisses and whispers.
“Are you alright, at least?” she said, “They didn't hurt you?”
“They put us to sleep,” Hadawa'ko said, “Threw us in... a room of red light. But no, they didn't hurt us.”
Tekahentakwa sighed, taking out her waterskin, and handed it to him. Hadawa'ko drank greedily, water dribbling down his chin as he gave it back to her. He took a shuddering breath.
“I thought they would help us,” he said, “I thought...”
He was on the verge of tears.
“They're going to destroy it all,” he said, “They're going to... to...”
He broke down. Tekahentakwa held him as her brother sobbed into her shoulder. They were again children, and he had skinned his knee while playing down by the river, with his sister to comfort him. Tekahentakwa and Hadawa'ko, always together.
But there was the raw edge of adulthood to his breakdown. The hoarse, empty exhaustion that came with the sheer weight of what he had seen. Impending annihilation replaced childhood woes.
Yet the body reacted the same.
“It's alright,” Tekahentakwa said, “It's alright, it's...”
“I-I'm sorry,” he said, “I'm so... I should have believed you, sh-should have...”
He was rocking himself now. His eyes were bloodshot.
“I'm tired,” he said, “So, so tired.”
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“I know,” Tekahentakwa said, “I am too.”
***
“People are already moving out,” Kehaulani told Lunus Oculus, “We're communicating with the other groups, letting them know that the Sovereign Melody's taken off.”
“Where are they going?” Lunus Oculus asked, “There's nowhere to go.”
“Some of them are making a break for the Traveling Point,” Kehaulani said, “The metahumans, at least. Some of the Oshya:de are heading east, towards a series of caves.”
“Back into the caverns,” Lunus Oculus said.
“They won't survive long in there,” Kehaulani said, “Even if they get through the glassing, there won't be any food or water. They'll need to go to Impellia III...”
Her voice faltered.
There was always the possibility that the Federation would glass the planet, too, to be completely certain. New Ludayan outposts had dotted the entire surface.
“Then we have to fight,” Lunus said, “Get whatever metahuman we can to launch an attack.”
“We don't have anyone like that,” Kehaulani said, “Most of us are Workers, Lune. Our abilities aren't combat focused. Maybe Cobalt Joe, but that's it. Most of the Warriors are with...”
She blinked.
“Are with Luminary.”
Lunus Oculus watched as her friend made realizations.
“The New Ludayans are going to be striking at the Sovereign Melody soon,” Kehaulani said, “And we know where the ship is going.”
“The Oshya:de will never agree,” Lunus Oculus said.
“It doesn't have to be an alliance,” Kehaulani said, “But our causes are aligned.”
“That's what Hadawa'ko said, isn't it?” Lunus Oculus said, “About the High Federation.”
The young mother swore. Lunus Oculus nodded.
“Trust me,” she said, “I know what you're saying. And I agree. But it's convincing the Oshya:de that would be-”
“Convince us of what?”
Tekahentakwa had returned, with Hadawa'ko in tow. The young man had been crying. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was scrunched over with exhaustion. He was still skin and bones, truth be told. The caverns had left him bereft of muscle and youth, and the boy in front of her looked more like an old man than anything.
Lunus Oculus took a deep breath, before speaking.
“We know the Sovereign Melody is on its way here,” she said, “They're here to finish what New Ludaya – what we – started. Five men, five women, and then they destroy the rest.”
Tekahentakwa nodded. There was a resignation in her eyes.
“We don't have the kind of resistance necessary to stop them,” Lunus Oculus continued, “None of us have the power to bring down a warbird of that size. The only person who stood a chance to do that was-”
“-Was the woman in white,” Tekahentakwa said, almost hissed.
She shivered even in the relative cool of the evening.
And she shook her head.
“I don't see how we can negotiate with her,” she said, “She wants us all dead.”
“It doesn't have to be through her, directly,” Kehaulani said, “We can send intermediaries. Have it come from the Workers-”
“You realize who you speak of, yes?” Tekahentakwa said.
There was warning in her voice. A heat. The very mention of Luminary had set her on edge. Hadawa'ko, too, though his was the exhausted sort. Lunus Oculus felt a familiar pinprick run up her spine. Of guilt, and shame.
She had had these sorts of conversations before. She was playing the villain, here.
“I do,” the orange-eyed metahuman said, “Trust me, I do. But...”
“That woman slaughtered everyone here,” Tekahentakwa's voice was rising, “There is not a single Oshya:de here who has not lost someone, because of her!”
She strode forth, jammed a finger in Lunus Oculus's face.
“And you want to speak with her?” she snarled, “You want to negotiate with her? We tried doing that already, and look where we are now.”
She gestured.
“She may very well just let us all die here, and then shoot down the ship herself,” the Clan Mother said, “She will not negotiate in good faith.”
“I never said she would,” Lunus Oculus said, “But she has the firepower to-”
“I will not hear it,” Tekahentakwa said, “I won't hear any of this. Not so soon after getting my brother back.”
She stomped away. Hadawa'ko, after a few moments, toddled after her.
Becenti watched the scene from afar. He only approached after she was gone. Lunus Oculus was rubbing her temple.
“We should talk about evacuation,” the older metahuman said, “Scattering.”
“And you know that won't work,” Lunus Oculus said, “They probably scanned this entire plane. They'll have an idea of where everyone is. Scattering won't make a difference.”
“You're right,” Becenti said, “It won't.”
He shook his head. Looked hard at the treeline.
“It won’t.”
***
“Tell me, Professor,” Wá:ri said, “What do you think will happen?”
Private meetings and communications were being sent out to the various cells of Oshya:de and their metahuman supporters. Wá:ri had listened to the message with Professor Morandus via a piece of bismuth, Stepping Stone's powers, as he relayed the High Federation's takeoff to the others. He was somewhere north, hiding in the nook of a tree, as the warbird lifted from its mountain perch and headed south, towards the center of the plane.
“I don't know,” Evancar said.
He and the young Clan Mother were near a river that ran into the earth. Guyasuta was with them, skipping rocks on the rapids, his bow ever in his hand. His mask betrayed no emotion, but Evancar knew well enough that he was scared.
All of them were.
The professor ran a hand through his hair. Noted the strands that tugged free were gray.
“I'm going to be honest with you,” he said, “It's not a good situation to be in. Worse situations have come and gone.”
“Do you think we'll survive?” Wá:ri asked.
“Nothing survives a glassing,” Evancar said, “Nothing at all. That's the horror of them. Perhaps a few buildings, here and there, but the rest is just glass. Glass, and ash. It is a scouring, not just of the land, but of its people, and its history.”
He gestured.
“This river will be gone. The trees. The mountains. The lakes. All of it.”
Wá:ri looked aghast, and Evancar grimaced.
“I'm... I-I'm sorry,” he said, “I'm getting away from pleasant conversation.”
He shook his head.
“I've only ever seen the results of... one of these,” he said, avoiding the term, “I think a few of my guildmates witnessed it. They don't talk about it.”
His eyes studied the woods.
“I'm sorry, if I've horrified you,” he said, “But...”
“It is what will happen,” Wá:ri said, “If we don't do anything.”
“Yes,” Evancar said, hopeless, “And there's not much we can do.”
At this, the Clan Mother shook her head.
“There are many who said the same thing about the caverns,” she said, “And yet, we were freed.”
Evancar smiled sadly, and she could see, just for a moment, the demon dance in his eyes.
“That was a much different circumstance,” he said, “A demon is a small thing, compared to a warbird.”
“Is it?” Wá:ri said, “Or have you just convinced yourself of this?”
Evancar's smile dropped. He blinked.
He did not answer.
(He did not want to hope.)
***
“So,” Joe said into the small communicator, “They're on their way.”
“Yes, Joe,” Becenti said.
“And no chance in hell we're talking to Luminary,” Joe said.
“No, we are not,” Becenti said.
Cobalt Joe's group, consisting of himself, Eksonis, Aldreia, Glow, Nasir, Iandi, and Okwaho, were sitting around a campfire in the cave system that Glow had lived in since their moving to the plane. Memoire and Aima Dorucanthos kept their distance, though the young metahuman craned her neck to hear their talks of whispers and mutters. The only one outside the cave was Rohahes, who could not stomach staying underground.
“I suppose I can't blame them,” Joe said, “I wouldn't want to talk to Luminary, either.”
There was a sharp sigh from the other side. Becenti still harbored some feeling for his old friend, to some degree.
But Joe didn't find himself in a sympathetic mood. He let his statement hang, without apology.
“We're thinking of taking the Traveling Point,” Becenti said, “Sending you out there, along with whoever's close to Father Mountain. At least then we can, perhaps, escape to Impellia III.”
“That won't work,” Nasir said, “We'd just be going to a slightly larger prison.”
“Agreed,” Joe said, “And that's such a pipe dream, as it is. That damn rock-”
He noted Okwaho's glare.
“Sorry, the mountain, it's crawling with Warriors. We got lucky, last time. But we still lost someone, and the entrance we used has been sealed up. I don't think we'd be able to secure a landing with that many people guarding it.”
“I see,” Becenti said, “Keep watch on it, alright?”
“Yeah, for sure,” Joe said.
The line went dead. The group returned to their usual business. Nasir spoke softly to Iandi, trying to coax him to get some sleep. Glow tended to the fire, their mossy form shifting and absorbing the carbon dioxide runoff. Aldreia was on her knees, her hands clasped together in something akin to prayer, though Joe knew the cleric was not religious.
He got up, looking at the small tunnel that led to the outside world. Rohahes had not reported back in.
“I'm heading outside,” he said to the others.
A few nodded. A few ignored him. Joe supposed he couldn't blame them. The news of the Sovereign Melody's takeoff had demoralized them. He had heard of the glassing on Chliofrond. Heard it from a few of his guildmates, like Rosemary.
Rosemary had mentioned it once.
And she refused to talk about it anymore. Her voice broke when she did.
He stepped into the water. Icy and freezing, and soon enough it went up to his knees, and then his chest. Joseph crept down the passage, the ceiling uncomfortably close to the top of his head, scraping against his hair and scalp when he wasn't careful.
And then, after this, a ramp that went up towards the outside world.
No wonder Rohahes didn't like coming down here.
Joseph ascended. Wondered, vaguely, how things had gotten to this point. Death on the horizon, and the more he talked to people, the more news he heard...
The more it felt like he wouldn't be making it out of this one alive.
But then, he had been in these situations before, hadn't he?
With Mordenaro.
The night of the coup.
He would survive, and all that he would be left with would be scars. Scars and nightmares.
“You look dour,” Rohahes said.
The warrior was peering down at him from above, smiling grimly. Joseph let out a dark chuckle.
“The High Federation's moving out, towards the center of the plane,” he said, “Where Tekahentakwa is. They're going to start the glassing campaign there.”
Rohahes nodded.
“I see,” he said.
“Yeah,” Joe said.
The large man reached down a hand, one that Joe took. It was cool out tonight, which was awful for the soaked-through metahuman. He shivered as he sat down by a tree. Rohahes had caught a few rabbits, and the remains of a small fire, hastily scattered and broken, was beside him.
“You could get caught, if it's big enough,” Joe said, gesturing towards the ashes.
Rohahes shrugged.
“They’re too busy with other things,” Rohahes said, “I've seen them. Father Mountain crawls with metahumans, but none of them range down here.”
“You don't know that,” Joe said, “Myriad abilities-”
“And yet I eat, and am unbothered,” Rohahes said, “I set traps and snares. I've even ranged out a bit, and seen New Ludayans in the woods, packing up bags and leaving their houses. They're scared of what is to come.”
“I don't blame them,” Joe said, and he crossed his arms, leaning against the tree's trunk, “So, what do you think?”
“Of what?” Rohahes asked.
“They're going to glass the plane,” Joe said, “You know what that means?”
“Only the stories from what you metahumans have told me,” Rohahes said, “Nothing else. Perhaps I don’t fear the same fear as you. It’s not my reality. The caves are. The demons are.”
Joseph nodded at that, closing his eyes.
“You have seen much,” the warrior said.
“Seen too much,” the metahuman replied, “Things I wished I hadn't.”
“Mmm,” Rohahes said, “Such is the nature of the world we live in. Were it not so.”
He was staring up towards the looming Father Mountain. There was a glint in his eyes, one that Cobalt Joe zero'd in on.
“You're thinking,” he said.
“I am,” Rohahes said, “Our impending annihilation is nigh, isn't it? The only way to secure a future for ourselves is there.”
He nodded at the mountain.
“Not like we can do anything,” Joe said, “Only Luminary has the sort of firepower to bring down something like a warbird.”
“We will not work with the woman in white,” Rohahes said.
“Which, I get,” Joe said.
“But that does not mean we can't let the woman in white know where this warbird is.”
The warrior gave Joe a knowing look.
“Tell me. These warbirds, how powerful are they?”
Joe shrugged.
“It takes a lot to bring them down. I've only heard stories.”
“But it's possible.”
“It's possible,” Joe said, “But difficult.”
“Difficult enough to send an entire raiding party?” Rohahes said, “An... army?”
And Joseph caught onto what he was saying. A dark smile crept on his face.
If the big hitters of New Ludaya were away...
He took out the communicator once more.
“Hey, Becenti,” he said, “I think Rohahes has an idea...”
***
“Fractal, wake up.”
It was Rainbowfish. He was shaking her gently, though she still nonetheless slapped his hand away. Rainbowfish raised his hands in surrender.
“Sorry,” he said, “But we're moving out.”
Indeed, she could hear movement. People were waking up. Armorhide was suiting up, wiping saliva on her forearms, metal growing from her skin wherever her spittle touched. Rainbowfish's own arms glistened in the half-light of the cavern, and a serious expression was knitted on his face.
“Get up,” he said, “Get dressed. We leave in the hour.”
Fractal frantically started getting changed out of her nightgown and into her sari. People were whispering to one another, muttering and preparing, and not a single person made a sound louder than a sneeze, as though speaking at a normal volume would awaken something horrifying.
Despite her bravado, Fractal's heart was hammering.
“What's going on?” she asked Rainbowfish.
The metahuman slid on his vest, keeping his shining arms bare.
“Orders,” he said, “The Shadow of the Giant will tell us more. Come on.”
They took off together, along with a long line of Warriors that wormed their way through the hallways, which were now tight with bodies and mutters and fear. They arrived to one of the larger caverns, metahumans pouring in from all directions. There was a bit of upraised stone, a solid pillar that the Shadow of the Giant stood upon, along with Riah Truegale and others. Luminary herself was in one of the higher galleries, attended by Mister Meaning, along with Nomatrius Dorucanthos and his family.
The Shadow of the Giant's thin, reedy voice echoed off the stone.
“You may have heard the news,” he said, “But we've found the location of the Sovereign Melody. We move out to bring it down. Tonight. You'll be briefed by your squad leaders on the way there. Dismissed.”
Simple words, but it set the Warriors alight at once. The tense quiet erupted into frantic motion, as people began reporting to their assigned squad leaders. Already a few metahumans were leaving the caverns, one of them pulling her hand from her wrist, a manta-ray like creature billowing out to carry her and her comrades off into the night.
Riah Truegale was their squad leader. The tall man was busy stretching as he considered all of them.
“We're taking to the air, with this one,” he said, “Ten of us. Eight fliers, two who cannot. Petrie, you carry Rainbowfish and Melorine.”
“I'm not carrying the traitor,” Petrie hissed, and his leathery wings shuddered in his anger, “I'm not-”
“They are your orders,” Riah Truegale said, “You will carry them out.”
Petrie glared at Rainbowfish, who returned it with a stony look of his own.
“Very well,” the metahuman said, clacking his beak.
They moved out, weaving through the halls and the tunnels, and all too soon they were outside, in the cool of midnight. The moon was at its full disc, and the stars seemed to wink at Fractal high above. The night was marred by the silhouettes, or the glows, or the shifting winds, of flying metahumans.
“We meet in the skies,” Riah Truegale said, “Expect heavy resistance, it's an entire warbird we're going after. Heavy losses are to be expected, but stick close to me and I'll get us onto the ship just fine.”
“The shield will be up, sir,” Rainbowfish said, “We have an answer for that?”
“We do,” Riah Truegale said, “She's gathering light as we speak.”
Rainbowfish stopped, his eyes widening.
“The Founder herself is...?”
“She's the only metahuman here who has demonstrated the power,” Riah Truegale said, “Wait for her to bring the shields down, once more. Then, when they are down, swarm the ship, kill anyone you see. Our goal is the engines. Barring that, primary thrusters.”
The pores on Riah Truegale's arms and legs took in air. Two holes on the bottom his feet exhaled, and he launched into the sky. The way he flew reminded Fractal of a cephalopod, sucking in air, and then expelling it to launch himself forward.
Her own power took form, and the world became orange and rippling. Flight for her was awkward, as she changed her center of gravity upwards, and then sideways.
She did not so much fly, as fall.
“Luminary herself...” Rainbowfish murmured to himself.
A rough wing batted at him.
“Climb on,” Petrie said, “And watch yourself, traitor. Don't want to tumble, do you? It's a long way down.”
“Right,” Rainbowfish said. He climbed on Petrie's wide back, and the metahuman took off.
So Luminary was joining them for this operation.
If there was any time to strike Father Mountain, it would be now.