The fight between Cobalt Joe and the Shadow of the Giant had moved to the forest.
Away from the battle of Father Mountain, Joe had slashed up the Giant enough that it no longer moved under the Shadow's directions. It loped after Joe, stomping through the woods, uprooting trees and pulling them away when they drew too close to its form. The Shadow moved along with it, his face increasingly etched into one of panic, for he knew what Joe was doing.
The two of them were alone, moving through the forest. Joe's eagle took to the tallest of trees, swinging from branch to branch like some sort of avian gorilla. They were getting closer and closer to a wildfire. The Sovereign Melody had been shot down, as had been the hope.
Both metahumans felt a ragged triumph at the thought of that.
But now was not the time for thoughts of alliance. Joe finished his trek atop one of the tallest trees in the forest, a great pine that swayed with wind. Rainbow-scented embers peppered the trunk, the branches, as Joe dispelled his soul, allowing it to sink back into his body.
Though already he was moving it throughout his circuit.
He heard the Shadow of the Giant move through the forest, and towards the pine. The Giant had not noticed him, despite the fact that Joe was perched nearly at its eye level. And yet the being stopped, its single, great eye searching to find him in the dark, glowing like a miniature moon.
“Come out, Joe,” he heard the Shadow say, far below, “Let us cease this little game.”
The Amber Foundation did not answer. He merely hunkered down, ready to pounce, like a raptor, onto the Giant's back.
“This is foolish, you know,” the Shadow said, “In truth, you have ruined this place. Made this plane a wasted one. People will not want to stay here. Not when we have been forced to kill their friends. Their families. Brothers and sisters, Cobalt Joe, and you have killed them.”
He fought the urge to fire back a scathing remark. This is what the Shadow wanted. Anger was an easy emotion for Joseph Zheng. It bubbled up within him with the smallest slight, and he worked hard to keep it from exploding out.
“Anger is just another emotion, Joseph,” he remembered Becenti telling him, one day, “When misused, it hurts the people around you, and they'll push you away. When used correctly, however, it is a very pure fuel.”
He waited, letting his rage stew. The injustice of all of this. The ignorance in the Shadow's words.
And, when the Giant's back was turned, he pounced.
He did not manifest the eagle, not at first. Instead, Joe sailed over the treetops on his own. A ploy, to make him less noticeable. The Giant was far faster than it let on, and he was taking no chances.
It was only when he landed on the Giant’s non-newtonian back, half-sinking and half-solid, that his eagle erupted from his back, its talons digging into shadowflesh.
The Giant let out a low, booming roar in pain, twisting and turning.
And then it stepped backwards.
Joe realized what it was doing at the last moment.
By then, though, it was too late.
It slammed itself against the pine tree. Joe let go, the eagle surrounding him as a shield, covering him with feathered arms. The slam cracked something in the eagle, and Joe felt cold pain lash up and down his spine as he fell to the ground, a dagger dislodged from the Giant's back.
He could not afford to let the Giant get him. As soon as he hit the ground, he was running.
Not a millisecond too soon, for as soon as Joe took off the Giant's fist slammed into the ground, rupturing where he had just landed, spraying up dirt and roots and leaves. It swept its other hand after Joe, who jumped up, twisting his body sideways, his soul's arms reaching towards the ground, pushing down, then up as a spring, sending Joe into the air to avoid the strike.
He dispelled his soul, and took off sprinting. The Zhengs had always been good at running, and he was off like a bullet into the trees.
The Giant swaggered after him.
***
“You should stay here,” Rohahes said to Tekahentakwa.
They were within Father Mountain. Metahumans and Oshya:de fought in the halls outside, throwing spears and tomahawks, beating down Warriors with clubs. Luminary's loyalists responded with their powers. Entire rooms became bloodbaths as rocks turned to flame, as one Warrior expelled his skeleton, which grew in size and began tearing apart anything it could get its hands on.
And yet.
And yet, they were losing.
More Warriors were turning. Or, bereft of that, leaving the battle entirely. The Oshya:de and Workers battered into one of the caverns to find it abandoned, save for the last of Luminary's loyalists in the room, the rest having fled to outside the mountain.
They were in one of the secured rooms now. Rohahes was breathing heavily, his tomahawk stained red. Tekahentakwa was staring, shaken, at the wall, muttering to herself. Lunus Oculus had managed to secure a plasma rifle, and now held it far too professionally for her liking, checking it over for damage, reloading it with a measured practice that belied the fear running up and down her spine.
“I... I cannot,” Tekahentakwa said, “This is almost over. I can feel it. And I have to be there.”
“No,” Rohahes said, “You shouldn't be. This is just getting more violent.”
The Clan Mother looked at the warrior.
“I am aware,” she said, “But this... I will be there, when the last of these New Ludayans surrender.”
Lunus Oculus shouldered her rifle. Stared hard at the wall. Tried not to listen in on the conversation. She peered her head outside. Okwaho was guarding the room. He nodded to her, absently flipping a knife in his hand. He had taken a nasty cut to the ribs during the battle, a result of a Warrior with the power to turn wind into swords. One of the healers in the back had already patched him up, but he still walked awkwardly, and his smile hid a thin veneer of pain.
“They're just going to get more desperate, as you go in,” Rohahes said, “Tekahentakwa, I’m telling you, I don’t want you to be another body on the floor. What happens if we lose you?”
“Then you elect a new Clan Mother,” Tekahentakwa said, “It will be no great loss.”
Rohahes reacted as though sucker punched.
“No,” he said, “That's not true. And you know this.”
He looked at her, and they were teenagers again. Again, in that awkward dance they had danced when they were still growing up, and learning, and breaking each other down in ways the other did not realize.
“Don't you say that, Clan Mother,” Rohahes said, “Never say that again. We're going to get through this alive. And you will be Clan Mother when we come out of the other side.”
Tekahentakwa's throat caught. The emotions of the night were catching up to her.
She bit back tears.
And looked, determined, at her once-lover.
“All the same,” she said, “I will be there for this. You will guard me.”
Rohahes nodded.
And smiled.
“Alright,” he said, “I can definitely do that.”
…
…
The last of them had holed up in the Cave of Awakening.
The last of the Founders. Iconoclast and Nomatrius Dorucanthos were busy shoring up defenses, arraying Warriors in the upper galleries. Pauldros, the bastard, had revealed the Walker's Gate before he had left. Entire squads were trapped in the rock. The Seat of Infrastructure had betrayed them. Lord Freak was leaving them. Luminary was out fighting the Federation. Memoire had disappeared. The Pit...
They didn't speak of the Pit.
“Cover up the doors!” Iconoclast called out, “You! Donorus!”
He pointed at the metahuman.
“Block up that hallway there.”
Donorus nodded, expanding in size as they approached the hall, their skin becoming gelatinous and pink. They slimed into the tunnel, taking it up entirely. Iconoclast moved forward to order a few other loyalists to take up positions at the exit tunnels, lest the natives and the Workers try and take those spaces, too.
This was all happening too quickly. More and more were turning away from the nation. Iconoclast's voice was starting to take on a wild edge. More bitter, more panicked, angrier than anyone had ever heard him.
A cloud drifted down, taking on a metahuman form. Jaskaios approached his father and Snapdragon, who were sitting in the booth the Founders occupied during Awakening rituals.
“They've taken most of the mountain,” he said, “Including the Council chambers.”
Nomatrius swore. Stood up, started pacing the booth.
In the gallery above, Melitta Dorucanthos was directing her keratin soldiers. She normally kept a collection of nails in a bag, though she was running out, and had taken to cutting down her cuticles, to the point that her fingers bled as she buried yet more of herself into the earth. The natives were smashing through her servants faster than she could make them.
Snapdragon was injured. One of the natives had struck them in the side of the head. Their mask was broken, revealing bloodshot, weary eyes.
They still could not find Dodeca or Aima.
Jaskaios sighed.
“Father,” he said, “We should surrender.”
Nomatrius looked up at his son. His proud boy. In another time, he would not have said this. If it had been the Federation breaking down their door, he would have died standing and defiant.
But this was not the Federation facing them.
It was their own people. Their own selves.
“Surrender?”
This came from Iconoclast. He had heard Jaskaios, and was moving himself over to the gallery, vines erupting from the metal bars in his hand to carry him upwards.
“Surrender?” he repeated, “No. No, we won't surrender.”
“Iconoclast, sir,” Jaskaios said, “We're beaten. It's done.”
“It's not done,” Iconoclast said, “We will make it through this. This is but...”
He looked around, his eyes wild.
“This is just one of the tests we expected, as a nation.”
“There is no nation,” Jaskaios retorted, “The mountain's been claimed. I don't know what's going on outside, only that it's pure chaos. They downed the Sovereign Melody, but that's just caused a fire that will burn down the forest. We're living on a desolate plane-”
“I will not surrender!” Iconoclast roared, “And neither will you! None of you!”
The entire room froze. Exhausted loyalists looked up at Iconoclast as he rose higher into the air, supported by his vines.
“We are New Ludayans!” he screamed, “We are here today, because no one else recognizes that we are a people! We are a nation! We are what we deserve, all of us! We deserve a home. We deserve a nation!”
His voice was hoarse.
“And I will kill anyone who says otherwise!” he screeched, “That includes anyone in this room, you hear me?”
He glared around the room.
Wherever he looked, people averted his gaze, as though his was a gorgon's look.
“Snapdragon,” he said, pointing, “Go to the hallway over the hallway over there. Burn anyone who comes through.”
“Iconoclast,” Nomatrius said, “They're exhausted. They're injured-”
“We all are, you old fool,” Iconoclast said, “That means nothing. We must all push ourselves past our limits, if we're to survive.”
He tilted his head.
“I expect some steel from the Seat of Commerce. You are still a Founder. Still a Ruler. Follow what I say, for there is no Seat of War to guide us now.”
“I'll go,” Snapdragon muttered.
They swayed when they stood up. They did not fly, as they normally would have, but instead stumbled awkwardly to the hallway. A Dragon's head sculpted from their hand as they went.
They simply stood, teetering like a tower on unstable foundations, in front of the tunnel.
“And you, Seat of Commerce,” Iconoclast said, “Summon up your wolves.”
“They're dogs.”
“All of them, Nomatrius,” Iconoclast said, “The entire damn alphabet.”
The Seat of History turned to bark out further orders. Nomatrius sighed, closed his eyes.
His alphadogs started erupting from his chest. One after the other. A few of them were still out and about, guarding the mountains, but he got the rest of them out in short order, scattering them to the hallways and levels surrounding the Cave of Awakening.
He sighed. And rubbed his temples.
***
Through the fire they went. Shadow and Giant and Eagle together, first moving along the edges, but by now the wildfire was expanding far faster than they could have anticipated, and they did so much plunge into the deluge as the fire engulfed them, covered their surroundings, eating away at the pines that Cobalt Joe climbed. This was the wildfire fallout that came from a crashed starship. The flames were reds and greens and blues and even periwinkles and burgundies and violets.
Coughing, the Giant stumbled into the flames. Cobalt Joe tore off part of his undershirt, tying it around his face to keep out the worst of the choking flames. His eyes were hardened and determined as he flitted between the flaming trees, as the Giant pushed after him in a fit of rage.
At one point, the Giant caught up with him. The Warrior faced the guildfolk, a fist of shadows rushing towards Joe, whose soul caught the ground, throwing him forward. The earth cracked in a shower of sparks and dirt.
Joe spun on his heel, dispelling his soul, pointing a hand up-
Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed. The Giant brought up its trunk-sized arms in front of its head, taking the worst of the strike. It stumbled back.
The Shadow, below, glared at Joseph.
Who was already disappearing back into the forest.
They were getting closer to the site of the Sovereign Melody's crash.
They were getting closer to Kathen Aru.
…
…
“Scans show that's the last of them,” Merry Curiosity said.
Kathen nodded, checking his rifle. Only a few more rounds, and that was that.
He still could not find Valm. Neither could Merry. The Sovereign Melody's destruction had meant that the systems she had been relying on to scan for lifesigns was greatly diminished.
He wasn't even sure if her scans were accurate.
He doubted that Rhunea had managed to get the last of Pagan Chorus away from this maelstrom.
Metahumans were flying down. By now, a few of them were organizing to douse the flames. Warriors with power over water were flying overhead, funneling down sprays that did little to alleviate the flames. Others with power over oxygenation had more success, depriving the flames of life and whittling them down.
A few came down in pursuit of him. Kathen ran at those, firing back at those metahumans.
He didn't have time to see if he had any confirmed hits. Only gags of pain, though from the flames or from his own rifle, he was unsure. Everything was madness. The only thing in the world that made sense to him, as he jumped and leaped and screamed out orders to Pagan Chorus survivors, as he pulled people out of escape pods and directed them away, away, anywhere but here, was Merry Curiosity. Her voice was flat and professional. Forceful when she needed to be. Never panicking. Never stuttering. Never nervous.
He had never heard her like this before, but he appreciated it nonetheless.
He moved through the forest, distantly aware that Merry was telling him he was reaching the wildfire's edge, more a creature of adrenaline and reaction. He checked his rifle over. Only a few more rounds. He had his plasma whip and raysword. A couple of grenades. A holdout pistol with a few meager shots.
And he had the voices, which spurred him on.
Ye god, the voices.
Voices of metahumans screaming. Fighting. Desperate and just trying to survive.
Voices of Pagan Chorus screaming. Panicked. In over their heads. They had never expected this to happen. He had lost Valm's voice in the sea of shouts and cries and gasps.
Voices of the natives here, the Oshya:de. Angry. Vengeful. Triumphant. They had taken over the mountain to the south, where a host of metahumans had been occupying. This was all almost over.
Thank god.
Three voices rose in power and influence as Kathen ran.
He ran into the voices' owners. One stumbled as a massive shadow, a giant, a cyclopean being made of darkness itself, it seemed to pull in the light like a humanoid black hole, and a single great eye stared down at Kathen as it emerged from the flames.
Its servant-
(Yes, a servant, Kathen supposed. That was the feeling he got from them.)
Its servant was a slight man. Thin and with oversized eyes. He was panicked. He had not wanted to be dragged out here. He wanted to be back at the mountain. To gather his people in an effort to repel the Oshya:de. But the Giant's will was greater than his. He was but a vessel.
And the last was none other than Joseph Zheng, running before the Giant. He looked haggard, but relatively injured.
Kathen froze.
As did Joe.
(Yes, Cobalt Joe. He was using that name.)
And then they both leaped to the side, rolling as one as the Giant crashed down upon them. Kathen was on his feet in moments, opening fire on the Shadow below, the thin man. Two of his five remaining shots missed. The other three plugged into the metahuman, who staggered with each shot.
The Giant was unaffected.
It reared up a fist-
Joe's eagle was far faster than Kathen could ever hope to be. It took advantage of the Giant’s diverted attention, and the Amber Foundation leaped leaped forward, claws digging up on the Giant's legs, scraping and tearing-
And then crawling down. With Joseph's roar, with the eagle's cry, it swung its claws together as a great scythe into the back of the Giant's ankle, severing its achilles tendon.
And both Giant and Shadow cried out.
Kathen took the opportunity to activate his plasma whip. Three snarling serpents erupted from his wrist, and he cracked them at the metahuman-
The Giant covered its vessel, and plasma scored its arms. It flailed at Kate, who jumped back.
Joe was still carving away at the Giant, the eagle screeching in triumph, the man along with it, as it raked away chunks of midnight from the Giant's side.
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The Giant swatted, and Joe went flying with a cry. He landed somewhere in the bushes.
Then, shaking with the pain of a continent, the Giant rose. The Shadow was in one hand, and it was supporting its weight on its good leg. It towered over Kathen, leering down at him. As did the Shadow.
“More Federation scum,” the Shadow said, “We have no use for you.”
Despite his eagle-scored limp, the Giant moved fast. Kathen was on the backwheel, all but turning around and breaking into a dead sprint. He was aware of the Giant ripping away part of a tree, holding it in hand for a moment, aiming and throwing it like a javelin towards him.
He broke left. Heard the half-tree splinter the earth behind him.
“On your right,” Merry said.
There was Joe. Running side by side with him. A race, much like the two had shared during their encounter at InterGuild.
The two traded looks.
And came to an understanding.
Both of them spun, as one, to face the Giant.
Joe fired a bolt of lightning at the Shadow.
The Giant brought up a hand to bat the bolt away. Lightning laced around the Shadow, blinding him for a moment-
A moment was all that was needed, as Kathen moved sideways, grenade primed in hand. He threw it at the blinded Giant, right where Joe had cut through its achilles tendon.
It exploded in a cacophony of reds, deepening the cut that Joe had made before, nearly severing the foot of the Giant completely. It fell forward, a tree cut at the base, and Joseph had to dance back, lest its mass swallow him up completely.
…
Yet already it was getting back up to its feet.
Kathen's whip blazed to life, three tails snaking around his wrists. He unleashed them with a crack, flaying plasma burns into the Giant's side. The Giant, despite everything, rose. The Shadow was climbing up its back, squirreling up to its shoulder. His feet were fully submerged in the Giant's mass now, to hold him tight, and he and the Giant were one.
The Shadow of the Giant glared down at Joseph, whose soul was once more realizing into the world. Kathen Aru retreated a bit, and the two guildmembers started circling the Giant.
Lions against an elephant.
The eagle's gaze studied the Giant, trying to pinprick weaknesses.
Merry Curiosity buzzed in Kathen's mind, telling him what she could scan of the shadowed being.
And the Shadow smiled.
***
Snapdragon heard shouts from down the hall. A multitude of footsteps, and despite the throbbing pain in their head, they concentrated, focused, listened intently. Father had sent them on a journey, around near their coming of age, just a few months before they came out, to a journey on the plane of Amu Dama, to study Dragons with the Priests of the Forked Tongues. Such tongues were to be used only for scenting the air, as Dragons do, and not for speaking. The wore blindfolds always, communicated with raps on the stone, announced their presences in a room by footfall alone. Snapdragon had learned quickly how to listen. They wore their mask in remembrance of their time there.
(Or, rather, they had.)
The footsteps ceased. Snapdragon raised up a Dragon-covered arm. The maw opened, and fire sparked in the Dragon's jaws.
A series of whispers.
And then two figures stepped out.
Aima and Dodeca. Dammit all, Father wouldn't be happy.
Their niece, at least, seemed to be in good health. Haggard, but who wasn't, these days? She wasn't holding a weapon – thanks the gods, they had not made her a killer. Not like Dodeca, who held a steaming plasma rifle in her six-fingered hands. Sibling met sibling's eyes, and it occurred to Snapdragon that Dodeca had not seen them maskless for some time now – they only took it off now when they went to bed.
Dodeca's face was awash with a dark sort of anger.
“Snapdragon,” she said.
“Sister,” Snapdragon said, their voice cool.
(Or, trying to be cool.)
“Entle,” Aima said, “We've come to put an end to this.”
“I'm afraid it's not that simple, Aima,” Snapdragon said.
“It is,” Dodeca said, “Snap, it's over. The Oshya:de have taken the mountain. They control the Traveling Point. Most of the Warriors still loyal to you are gone.”
“Gone?” Snapdragon said, “You didn't...”
And Dodeca grimaced.
“Some of them are dead,” she said, “But most of them just... left. They couldn't take attacking their friends. Their families.”
Snapdragon didn't respond to this. They simply stepped back, a mixture of emotions welling up from within them. Neither their sister nor their niece noted this, for their face was as impassive as ever, but a tide, a rush, assaulted Snapdragon.
Froze them.
Made them unsure of what to do.
They were aware of a few other figures emerging from the tunnel, to face them.
One was Memoire. The former Seat of Secrets and Ritual. The other was someone whom Snapdragon had never met before. Female presenting, her white dress was matted down with red, and peahen feathers were braided in her hair.
The Clan Mother.
Beside her was one of the Oshya:de warriors. Single-handed, tomahawk in hand, he stood beside the Clan Mother, ready to leap in front of her, if needed.
“What is this?” a voice behind them.
Father.
Nomatrius Dorucanthos rose, two of his alphadogs by his side. From his place at the podium, he called out to his child.
“Snapdragon, are they here?” he said.
“It's...” Snapdragon said, “It's Aima. And Dodeca.”
Father sucked in a breath. His eyes widened.
“Don't just stand there!” he said, “Let them in!”
“Aima!” their brother, Jaskaios, said, “Aima, good gods! You're alright!”
But it was Iconoclast who cut through them.
“Who are they with, Snapdragon?” he asked, “The savages?”
The Clan Mother tensed.
Snapdragon had been called similar things before. They could, on some level, understand the Oshya:de's fear. Fear and anger. The part of Snapdragon that was metahuman, and not Dorucanthos, could empathize.
“Yes,” Snapdragon said, “They're here.”
“Kill them, then,” Iconoclast said, “Now-”
“Don't you dare do anything to my daughter,” Jaskaios's voice was hard, almost shouting. Snapdragon had never heard such heat in their brother's voice before.
Iconoclast turned to Jaskaios, and sneered.
“What are you going to do, cloud man?” he said, “Mist me to death?”
But then the Seat of History noted Father's glare, and he went silent. A flash of anger on his face, venomous and frustrated, and then he turned to Snapdragon.
“What do they want?” he asked.
“Iconoclast asks what you want,” the eldest Durucanthos relayed.
It was the Clan Mother who spoke.
“We wish to negotiate,” she said, “To see an end to all of this violence.”
Snapdragon turned.
“She says-”
“I heard what she said,” Iconoclast said.
And then Father spoke.
“Let them in,” he said.
Iconoclast's eyes bulged. But Nomatrius Dorucanthos had slumped back into his chair, looking thoroughly exhausted.
“Let them in,” he said.
***
“Tell me, Cobalt Joe,” the Shadow said, “Are you truly turncoat?”
Joe glared up at the Shadow, whose smile was curling, despite the twitching in his eye, the only indication that he was feeling, on some level, the pain the Giant felt at its missing foot. The Giant was shifting itself, adjusting to carry itself on its remaining leg, putting as little weight as it could on its stump.
“Why?” Joe asked, “Because of the Feddie here?”
He nodded to Kathen, whose nose curled at the use of slang. Kathen Aru had obtained a plasma whip since the last time Joe had seen him, three trails of light erupting from a device on his wrist. He looked exhausted, despite the way he carried himself. Pure adrenaline was all that was keeping Kathen Aru up and standing.
Joseph could understand.
“Yes,” the Shadow said, “We have brought down their starship, and the Federation dogs run headless through the burning forest. Is it pity, that has allied you with him?”
“I'm just trying to kill you, man,” Joe said, “There isn't much more to it.”
The Shadow's eye twitched, and his smile was more angry than curious, as it had been before.
Joe adjusted his stance.
“How many people are dying, because of this?” the Amber Foundation prodded, “Not just the Federation. Not just the Oshya:de. I know you don't care about them. How many metahumans?”
“If they died, it was on their own heads, their own decisions,” the Shadow said, “They are not children, Cobalt Joe. If their ideals ran counter to my own, then there is no other recourse.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The voice was not the Shadow's, nor Kathen's, nor Joseph's. It came from above.
The air started to ripple.
The trees swayed awkwardly.
Kathen took a few steps away from the field, and from the orange-patterned being floating down. Fractal was floating high above them. Joe's heart skipped a beat.
“Ah, Fractal,” the Shadow said, “Help me, now. Kill these two.”
She looked down first at Joseph. Their eyes met.
She looked back up at the Shadow.
“What do you mean, Shadow?” she said, “What do you mean that metahumans have died tonight? What are you doing out here, in the forest?”
“A mass gathering of them came up to Mt. Redress,” the Shadow said, “They are being handled.”
“Violently,” Joseph said, “Your Warriors just started indiscriminately attacking the crowd.”
The Shadow was quiet at this.
He looked up at Fractal.
“Kill him, Fractal,” he said, “Aid me in this. This is almost over.”
And the Warrior above looked torn. Joseph could see it, in the way she wavered. Kathen Aru was looking up at her, his entire body tensed as a coil. He was, out of the four powers here, the weakest. In truth, both he and Joseph's lives hung in the balance. Joe knew he should have been preparing for if Fractal turned on him. They had spoken before, about a battle between the two, one that was an actual combat to the death. He had made plans for her, or at the very least, vague ideas of what he would do, if he came to this moment.
But all he could see was the indecision on her face.
He sighed.
“Fractal,” he said, “You know what they're doing is wrong.”
“Is it, Cobalt Joe?” Fractal said, “Is it so wrong, to defend yourself against people like him?”
She gestured at Kathen, who shrugged.
“What's happened here isn't defense,” he said, “The Oshya:de never attacked you. They were just... just living their lives, until we came here. All of us. Guilty and ignorant alike.”
“You say that Shadow ordered the Warriors against Workers,” Fractal said.
“He did,” Joe said, “I was there.”
“I can corroborate,” Kathen said, “My onboard AI, she says that there's been heavy fighting in the region south of here, and I know that Pagan Chorus has little presence there, Traveling Point beside.”
“Shadow,” Fractal said, “Tell me that it's not true.”
The Shadow of the Giant grimaced.
“A group of them came up, but tell me you didn't just start... start... butchering them,” she said.
“They came with the natives,” the Shadow said, “They were there for violent intent.”
“Maybe we were,” Joseph said, “But this place is the Oshya:de's home. This entire plane. And we're helping them.”
“I became a Warrior to defend my people,” Fractal said, “To defend them from the High Federation. To protect metahumanity, when the time came.”
She gestured.
“The time came, and I have helped bring down a warship. And now I come down, back to the earth, and I find you killing the people I swore to protect. Tell me, Shadow, when does it end? When the Oshya:de are gone? Or when the Workers cease their protests?”
“A complicated answer,” the Shadow said, simply, “The Oshya:de will be allowed a portion of the land, if they wish for it, and only if they cease their protestations. The same will go for the Workers. We are a violent nation, Fractal. We have no choice but to be.”
“Bullshit,” Joseph said, “You chose to be a violent nation the moment you came here. New Ludaya was born out of violence, and the only way it can change, is through violence.”
He looked at the Shadow.
“Did you ever stop to consider the Worker's proposals, even once?”
The Shadow was quiet. His face had gone stone-like, and when he looked up at Fractal, his eyes were cool.
“Kill him, Fractal,” he said, “That is an order.”
Fractal glared at him.
“And that, Shadow, is answer enough,” she said.
The world churned.
The Giant buckled as the world began pulling it harder towards itself, as gravity intensified. Joseph smiled.
“Let's do this,” he said.
And two became three.
They leaped, as one, at the Shadow of the Giant.
***
To see two of the men who had killed her world was almost enough to send Tekahentakwa on a panic attack.
She remembered Nomatrius Dorucanthos as a kind man. Charismatic and loud, brash, but also willing to listen to the Oshya:de.
Yet when the time had come for violence he had reluctantly gone along. Now he looked... tired. He had spoken of his riches, during the initial dialogues. Now, when the currency of the day was blood, he was an old man out of his depth.
Not so with the one in the center of the room. Iconoclast. Vines slithered on the ceiling, on the walls, connected to the man and the metal he wore, the metal he bloomed into plantlife. A beautiful power, in the hands of the hateful. The way that Iconoclast glared at Tekahentakwa made her heart hammer faster and faster in abject fear. This was a man who would kill her, if given the chance.
She needed to be careful.
At least Rohahes was with her. At least those like Aldreia and Nasir were. The cleric's eyes studied the room, fell on Melitta. The two women averted their gazes at the same time.
Dodeca shouldered her plasma rifle, turned to let Lunus Oculus into the room. Glow drew up beside the two of them.
“It's time,” Rohahes whispered, “Say what you have to say.”
Tekahentakwa stilled her breathing. Settled herself in. Tried to put on a strong front as she glared out at the last of the opposition. At Iconoclast and Nomatrius. She chose to concentrate on looking at the old man first, for he looked more... amiable.
“The battle is over, New Ludayans,” she said, “We have reclaimed our home. We have-”
“It's not over yet,” Iconoclast said, “While a single metahuman still stands, the battle is not lost.”
Tekahentakwa flinched. Iconoclast smiled.
“You are... what was it you people called your leaders, the Clan Mother, yes?”
“I am Tekahentakwa,” she said, “You killed my mother. My father. You killed many of my friends and family, and-”
“-And that matters little,” Iconoclast snapped.
“A lie!” Tekahentakwa shouted, “It... it matters to me! It matters to my people, who you butchered. Tell me, all of you metahumans always tell me that you have seen similar scenes to what I went through.”
“We have,” Nomatrius Dorucanthos said, from the gallery.
“And tell me, do you feel nothing, nothing at all, when you visit the same thing upon others?” Tekahentakwa said, “Nothing at all?”
Nomatrius grimaced. As did other Warriors in the room. Melitta Dorucanthos looked away. Jaskaios sighed.
But Iconoclast did not react.
“That matters little, now,” he said, “The past is the past, and there is the future ahead of us. Tell me, if you drive us out, where will we go? There is nowhere. We are stranded here. And the High Federation will come again.”
“The High Federation is here,” Tekahentakwa said, “And those metahumans who are of sounder minds have already realized we should be allies, not enemies.”
“You're referring to these... gene traitors,” Iconoclast said.
Glow stepped forward.
“Stand down, Iconoclast,” they said, “The mountain is taken. New Ludaya is finished. Even if you somehow hold out here, the seat of power is no longer here. It is with the people.”
“As it always should have been,” Lunus Oculus said, “Never mind self-appointed seats. Never mind the distinctions between Ruler and Warrior and Worker. We should have been as one. Not divided.”
Iconoclast glared, but said nothing else.
Nomatrius Dorucanthos rose.
“Aima,” he said, “Are you there?”
The youngest Dorucanthos emerged from the crowd. She went up by Dodeca's side. Jaskaios's eyes went wide.
“Aima,” he said, “Aima, you're okay. They didn't hurt you?”
“They haven't, father,” Aima said.
“Why would we?” Tekahentakwa said.
The blue-skinned metahuman stood up. Looked torn for a moment.
“May I...” he said, “May I come over to you?”
Dodeca looked down at her niece.
“You cool with that?” she said.
“I'm... yes,” Aima said.
“You too, Clan Mother?” Dodeca said.
“Of course,” Tekahentakwa said, though she took a step back, Rohahes crossed in front of her.
At once Aima’s father's form became cloud-like. Jaskaios billowed down towards Tekahentakwa's group, turned metahuman once more, engulfed his daughter in a tight hug.
“I was so scared,” he said, “I was... I'm sorry, I-”
“It's alright,” Aima said, patting her father's back, “I'm here. I'm here.”
Nomatrius was on his feet, looked about ready to leap from his place in the box and come down to greet the others.
Iconoclast sneered.
“We will not surrender,” he said, “We'll hold here, and-”
“Iconoclast, enough,” Nomatrius Dorucanthos said.
The room froze.
Nomatrius Dorucanthos stood up. Surveyed the room. The Warriors who had stayed loyal to the dream. His own family, splintered as they were. It was for their sake that he spoke.
“Enough people have died already,” he said, “The nation's turned against us. Or what's left of it, anyways. And I don't know about you, but I'm...”
He looked down. At glaring Dodeca. Unsure Snapdragon. Mournful Jaskaios, who was already breaking down into tears, so happy he was that his daughter was safe.
“I'm done, Iconoclast,” he said, “This notion of nation has ruined me, morally and economically. I'm spent. I'm wasted. I'm done.”
He looked at the Warriors in the room.
“You all should be, too.”
Iconoclast glared at him.
“Et tu, capitalist?” he said, “Even the money surrenders. Very well.”
He gestured.
Metal flashed in his hand. Became vines, sharpened and bristling with needles.
He speared directly for Nomatrius's heart.
***
The Giant reached for Fractal first. It rose, despite the gravitational weight on its shoulders, and swung a wild hand at the flying metahuman. It grazed her legs, which flipped her sideways, and she lost her concentration on the gravitational field. The Giant swatted at her, but she was quick, changing her center of gravity, falling upwards, spinning up so the burning forest was the sky, righting herself away from the Giant's reach.
At the same moment, she pointed a finger. Joe noted that he bounced a bit easier here, as though he were walking on a moon.
He knew at once what was happening. Bounced once. Twice. And then propelled himself upwards, up to the Giant's head. The Giant spun, backhanding Joseph away. He was sent flying, but at the same time felt himself falling upwards as well, joining Fractal in the sky. Below, the two metahumans watched Kathen Aru dance around the Giant's blows, spinning and weaving, far faster than Joe had seen him since InterGuild.
He had been training.
“Keep it up,” Fractal said, “Remember when I dropkicked you?”
“Yeah,” Joe said.
“Follow me.”
She dropped like a stone. Speeding up as she intensified her gravity, positioning herself as an arrow, her legs pillaring together. The Giant noticed this at the last possible moment, bringing up its arms to block her blow.
It was a mirror of when she and Joe had sparred. The Giant held fast against the hyperweighted organic bullet. Its arms shook, shadowy skin started to splinter.
But, unlike Joe, it held fast.
The other difference, of course, was that Joe fell down with Fractal.
And Kathen Aru's whip snarled, lashing against the Giant's other foot.
Joe fell on the Giant's head. His soul's talons caught on the lip of its one, burning eye, and he spun, pulling the Giant's head back with him, like a fish caught on a line. The Giant's back arched-
Kathen's whip managed to cut through enough of the Giant's remaining achilles tendon, and the rest of the ligament bent, and broke with the Giant's fall.
One of its arms went flying out, and the other was not enough to fully absorb Fractal's blow. She tore through it, smashing into the Giant's chest, which cratered with her blow.
The Giant fell on its back.
And then Fractal rose up, and went to work. She applied her gravitational power upon the Giant, increasing the gravity around it, forcing it into the ground. The earth began to shake as she did so, broke beneath the Giant's crumpled form.
“Its eye, Cobalt Joe,” Fractal said, “Through the eye.”
Joe looked at Kathen Aru.
Who took out his final grenade.
The two nodded.
Fractal's gravitational control was fine enough for Joe to run up the Giant's head under normal conditions. He looked down at the Giant's eye, glowing and bleeding ink like blood.
Time to pluck it out.
The eagle realized over his head, let out a triumphant shriek.
Its claws fell upon the eye. Ripping and tearing, and the Giant let out a roar of pain, low and rumbling, the agony of a continent.
But it could not move. It was as though it were on a planet with gravity several times greater than the norm.
And Cobalt Joe kept tearing, until there was nothing to tear.
Exhausted, he stepped back.
And Kathen Aru took point.
Primed the grenade.
And shoved it into the gaping pit.
Both men leaped back, ran away from the Giant.
There was a few seconds where the Giant lay there, motionless.
And then it jolted upwards, and they heard a muted, squishy boom in its skull.
Another moment.
And then the Giant started melting. Into the shadows and darkness, like baby spiders escaping their mother's corpse, the shadow retreated into the trees, into the night, wherever there was brethren, wherever there still remained some pull of darkness.
Its servant was left alone.
He was on his knees, his eyes wide.
He looked up as the three approached him.
“What... what did you do?” he asked.
“We killed the Giant,” Joe said, simply.
Kathen Aru's whip returned back into the device on his wrist. Fractal was returning gravity to normal around her, yet she still kept her powers activated, still was orange and patterned and difficult to look at. Joe's eagle returned into his body, though its claws were wrapped around his hands.
“You killed it,” the Shadow whimpered, “You have killed an ancient thing. You have...”
The Shadow glared at Joe.
“There are repercussions for this, Cobalt Joe. You will... you will...”
But he could do nothing but curl his face in a look of desperate anger. Joe tilted his head.
“Your questions, Shadow,” Joe said, “About who I am, and what I'll be in the future.”
He looked hard at the frail little man. Who justified the killing of his own kind and kin.
“I don't know what I'll be, but at least I won't be you.”
With a snarl, the Shadow leaped at Joe.
Who swung his claws. Tore through the thin man's chest. Through paper flesh and hollow bones, and the shriveled thing that was his heart.
***
Many things happened at once.
The vine surged at Nomatrius Dorucanthos.
One of his alphadogs leaped in front of it, taking the blow, as the old man rolled out of the way.
Dodeca let out a snarl, aiming her plasma rifle. At the same time, Snapdragon's hand lanced out, their Dragon's maw unleashing a torrent of flame at Iconoclast. Warriors shouted. Aima screamed. Jaskaios turned himself back into a cloud, covering his daughter, hardening parts of himself to protect her as the Seat of History twitched a finger, and more vines erupted from metal parts on his pack and rushed down towards them.
Rohahes shoved Tekahentakwa back. Lunus Oculus and Glow moved to the side.
Iconoclast dropped to the ground. He pulled free another slab of metal, squeezed it into a wall of thorns that protected him from the worst of the flames and plasma. Another pair of tendrils whipped from a plate on his back. Dragorax seeds bloomed from their tips, botanical explosives that he arced downwards.
The Oshya:de and Workers scattered as they exploded.
“No!” Melitta roared.
She pointed, and at her command nail soldiers leaped down from their places and rushed towards Iconoclast.
Who simply spun, sending out further more dragorax seeds flailing at them. Several keratin constructs shattered and broke.
Aldreia muttered a quick prayer, and radiant flame erupted from her hands. She propelled herself upwards with them, before turning them on Iconoclast. A pillar of flame engulfed the Seat of History-
More metal on his form erupted, turning into massive thorn shields. Yet he was still burned, still gritted his teeth as vines coiled beneath him, sprung him into the air to meet her. With a kick, he knocked her out of the indoor sky, sending her down into one of the second level podiums. Vines collected him, prevented him from falling to the ground. He scanned the room-
Yes. The Clan Mother.
He fired more vines at her.
Jaskaios spread himself out, covering the two Oshya:de, and the vines snapped against his clouded form.
Dodeca was running, opening fire on the vines holding Iconoclast aloft. He spun at her-
Nasir took aim, fired an arrow. It grazed Iconoclast's shoulder, and he grimaced, wheeled on him-
Snapdragon took flight, rising up to meet him. Dragon's jaws seized the Seat of History, bit through his torso and his shoulder, forced him down. The two crashed into the ground-
And thorns erupted from Snapdragon's body. Nomatrius, above, let out a roar of “No!” and he started running, out of his box and towards one of the loose vines. Iconoclast lifted himself up, bleeding, and with a tendril tossed Snapdragon away. His eyes were wild, and he turned on Jaskaios.
Another dragorax seed balled into his hand, and he whipped it at the wall of clouds.
Which broke apart. The air seemed to scream as Jaskaios gagged, once more becoming incorporeal. He revealed Tekahentakwa and Aima, and Iconoclast took aim-
Nomatrius tackled him to the ground. Bereft of his alphadogs, the old man simply started wailing on the Seat of History, balled fists batting against the younger man's head and face.
Iconoclast bit down on a metal tooth, which dislodged, formed into an enlarged cactus needle. He spit it into Nomatrius's throat. The Patriarch of the Dorucanthos Family gagged, fell back.
Iconoclast rose, clutching his head-
And then started. Exhaled a silent breath-
And fell to the ground, a tomahawk embedded in his back.
“Father!” Jaskaios rushed over to Nomatrius Dorucanthos. The old man was unmoving. His eyes stared up at the ceiling, soulless and gone. Melitta and Dodeca ran up to him, too. Melitta broke down into a screaming sob. Dodeca merely stared.
Snapdragon sat up, aching. They saw Father. Dead. Iconoclast before him, the Oshya:de's axe in his back. They shut their eyes, grimaced, then opened them.
Th-this was not the time for mourning.
They had to be the strong one.
They had to be the-
And they broke down, too. For there was nothing left. Nothing left of all that had been built. New Ludaya was gone. Two of its leaders dead in the place of its awakening. The Walker's Gate saw all. Judged all.
And said nothing.