Dean was a bit shocked that literally nobody seemed concerned about the U.S. government's intentions to surround and attack Basalith. It was business as usual: people training in the private training rooms, people training by applying their abilities to actual tasks, etc. The entire city had been in a non-stop frenzy since its inception, particularly once everyone realized that not only was COTD not a hoax, it truly fulfilled its leading promise: everyone could advance in the city's hierarchy system.
Dean heard that there was a healing pool set up somewhere where the physically and mentally disabled could go to receive "normalization," whatever that was. Dean didn't really ascribe to the idea that "normal" was a quantifiable status. What did it even mean for the pool to "cure" someone of down syndrome? Dean didn't have any idea how such a thing could transpire.
There was, of course, another pool set aside for the sick. Actually, there were three of these pools to deal with predictably heavy traffic.
Because of these pools, everybody was able to advance quickly through the ranks of whatever profession they chose regardless of any serious biological setbacks upon first arriving. Dean had long since realized, after advancing through the artist profession, that the point of boons wasn't to do something outlandish like transplant knowledge. Rather, it made everything infinitely more intuitive. Easy.
Dawn faction's leader, Maya, had sent out a message to the faction's members as soon as the U.S.'s announcement went out. "Everyone with combat-applicable boons, get ready; Monday marks the commencement of our Goddess' white crusade!" Since this proclamation was said with the same fervor as every other announcement, no matter how mundane, many people didn't digest her words even as they cheered in response. Even Dean had just mindlessly cheered along before he stopped himself and thought hard about what a "white crusade" would look like.
Just thinking about the U.S. government was enough to make him sigh. He knew that this conflict had a foregone conclusion; even if, by some disaster, Basalith lost in a confrontation, Dean suspected that all of Earth's military forces wouldn't be worthy enough to challenge Bath. To think he was my roommate...Christ.
---
The attack came in the middle of Lepochim's first devilbat training lesson.
"I hear someone above ground," Olm grumbled as he pumped his wings. Lepochim was shocked by how much strength he needed just to stay on the devilbat's back. He barely even heard the devilbat's words while concentrating on staying aloft.
"What? The U.S. government's attack?" Lepochim's attitude on the whole thing was that if the U.S. could actually do any damage to Basalith, good on them. They just better be ready for retaliation.
Olm pumped his wings. "Let's go up and see."
Lepochim had the wind knocked out of him as Olm pivoted sharply upward and out of the flight room. 'Is he completely unaware how difficult he's making this for me?' Lepochim wondered irritably to himself. Soon, they arrived in the main spire of the devilbat residential tower. Down its center was a large shaft that devilbats could use to quickly fly up and down the building. Olm entered the shaft without a second thought, enjoying the sensation of the air on his wings as he rocketed upward. At the top of the building was an exit hole leading to the open air. Olm spiraled out of the hole to slow down his motion, nearly throwing Lepochim off.
"Do all of you fly like that?" Lepochim heaved, his ribs undoubtedly bruised.
"No." Lepochim had no idea if the devilbat was serious or messing around, his tone impossible to detect. "But flying in this fashion, we arrive in style."
Lepochim narrowed his eyes, then shook his head, recalling why they had rushed out in the first place. "Do you see anything amiss?"
"Just that pillar of flame on Basalith's eastern side."
"What!?" Lepochim couldn't see anything from where they were now. "Go closer."
"Patience," Olm crooned. "I see that there are U.S. forces surrounding the city on the eastern front with huge, flammable artillery."
Lepochim sniffed. He'd heard about bats using echolocation before; apparently Olm's was good enough to see even a few miles out. "Flammable artillery isn't going to help them in the slightest." If Bath hadn't made spineroot capable of resisting fire, what the hell good was it?
"Oof, there went another chopper," the devilbat said in his typical monotone.
"Can you please fly closer?" Lepochim snapped. 'I'll have to ask Bath about echolocation later...'
Olm snorted, then zoomed forward, his abrupt acceleration nearly unseating Lepochim for the umpteenth time. Soon, they reached the eastern wall of the city.
"You're right; what a waste of metal," Lepochim chuckled lightly, wincing at his ribs. They'd never heal if Olm continued to whip him around like a rag doll.
Spineroot was doing its job, alright. While Lepochim daily cursed Bath's name for a plethora of reasons, his ability to design plant lifeforms wasn't one of them. Lepochim watched in smug earnest as the spineroot's gnarled, root-like tendrils whipped out and snared yet another helicopter, swiftly whipping the thing onto the ground next to a flaming heap of other broken vehicles.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
To Lepochim's surprise, he saw that spineroot actually did burn. Just not fast enough to matter.
"This is pitiful," Olm observed. "To think that humans rose to the top of Earth's food chain."
Lepochim had a complicated expression on his face. 'Not just humans; practically any sapient force in my recollection would have endless difficulty dealing with spineroot.' That Bath had created spineroot in a matter of days was a sobering thought.
"Why do you think they want everyone to stay inside their homes within a 200-mile radius?" Lepochim asked, curious to see what Olm's analysis of the situation was. He was still trying to discern for himself just how "sapient" the devilbat was.
"Their plan was probably to smoke out Basalith. Since they know from experience how fast enhanced humans and animals can be, they probably left a 200-mile radius open in which to engage in battle."
"They couldn't have based that entire plan on smoking us out," Lepochim objected.
Olm suddenly dodged left, his wings slightly singed by the sudden flare of heat. Lepochim's heart raced at the close call. "Plasma beams. So the U.S. does have a weapon worth our attention."
---
Kayt had mounted Nimesh as soon as they detected the first signs of conflict. Everyone in Basalith quickly vacated their living quarters, all eager to witness the ensuing fight from the eastern wall. Over the weekend, practically everyone had obtained a set of dragonleaf armor. In addition, since the people of Basalith were more than aware that their city would eventually face the assault of the collective world, most had picked one of the combat-oriented professions as their second or third profession. These included land-shaper, close combat fighter, ranged fighter, tactician, and, oddly enough, administrator.
She conversed with Nimesh over their connection as they neared the front lines. While Kayt wasn't a pushover herself, having already finished the land-shaper and close combat professions while currently on tactician's Beginner tier, she was more than aware that her largest asset was her wolf companion.
Nimesh expressed her jubilant excitement through their bond at being able to rip off people's heads and gore their chests and stomachs. In the beginning, Kayt had thought these vivid imaginings at once cute and disturbing; now she was all but desensitized to them.
'Yes, yes, just hold on,' she transmitted reassuringly, absentmindedly scratching Nimesh's ear. They were now at the eastern wall with everyone else, waiting for the real conflict to ensue. Kayt thought that if they had popcorn, the scene would be perfect. The crowd was oo-ing and ah-ing at all the right times as Basalith's defensive plant thing continued to smack U.S. attackers into oblivion.
To everyone's collective surprise--expressed by thousands of sharp, startled screams--a potent beam of concentrated plasma ripped right through the wall and into the city. Kayt watched on in awe as the city defense plant--she wished she knew what it was called--expanded out in an instant to protect the nearby buildings and people in the crowd. Kayt had worried for a second when the beam nearly clipped what was clearly a bat quasi-sapient, but the creature had luckily dodged out of the way.
Nobody was hurt; even the buildings appeared unscathed. Kayt wondered exactly why they had--suddenly, Nimesh transmitted a feeling of dire urgency. Though the city defense plant had almost instantly closed up the hole caused by the plasma beam, something had gotten through.
"They're gassing us out!" someone cried out in alarm.
A voice called out from above, cutting off the anxious person like a sharp knife. A man...riding the bat? After focusing for a moment, Kayt saw that the man was no other than the yellow-eyed personal follower of the Dragon. She wondered what he would direct them to do.
"Humans, pay attention. The insects beyond this wall threw a potent gas into the city when they momentarily breached the spineroot's defense." The man sighed dramatically, as though deeply and personally affronted by the attack. "This is part of their absurd plan to lure us out of the city." Now he focused intently on the crowd below. As his sweeping eyes passed over her area, Kayt couldn't help but feel like he was looking into her soul. He certainly didn't feel like any of the other personal followers of the Dragon, like the brown-robed peacekeepers.
The man's face hardened; his voice rang out strong, powerful, incensed. "I think it's time to show these fools exactly what it means to antagonize the Dragon."
The crowd burst into a roar.
"All of those with mounts, you're to follow me out on the battlement. I suspect that there will be all kinds of surprises waiting for us beyond...land mines, to say the least. They probably have the entire 200 miles booby trapped and are preparing to pick us off, guerilla style.
"After I clear the way, land-shapers should move and erect dragonleaf fortifications, with close combat fighters accompanying them. The administrators should come in next. Use your boons and gavels to investigate any ground that looks like it could be sheltering the enemy worms.
"Next, ranged fighters should hurry over to the fortified locations and provide ranged assistance; snipe whoever you can. Finally, caretakers should come out to the fortifications and attend to any wounded.
My only recommendation to all of you is to keep your heads intact. We can heal you, but for now..." Lepochim knew that Bath had a plan to keep records of brain and genetic data as a sort of back-up for caretakers to use, but this was contingent on caretakers having already reached ranks far beyond Expert. "Just don't get your head blown off."
Now the yellow-eyed man smiled, his grin cold enough to freeze blood. "This is your first test, Basalith. If you succeed, the future holds endless promise. Make your Dragon proud."
Lepochim didn't even bother using the tacticians. They would be useful when Basalith autonomously expanded out to conquer the Earth's surface on many different battlefronts; for now, Lepochim was confident his plan would suffice.
The plan was largely contingent on whether Olm was overexaggerating the devilbats' ability to detect and remotely destroy any landmines or hidden incendiary objects with their echolocation and raw concussive vocal power. Olm didn't doubt himself at all, even though he'd never before engaged enemy forces. Lepochim constantly forgot the fact that the quasi-sapients were all only a few days old.
Suddenly, he felt a surge of nervousness. 'I'm flying on an untested, newborn baby devilbat, soon to be joined by a fleet of other baby devilbats...all with some kind of remote concussive ability of unknown but likely high potency.'
At this point, Lepochim found that he didn't actually care how smoothly the plan went, so long as Basalith utterly annihilated the enemy. Fortunately, that was a foregone conclusion.