The White Knight Militia Group’s compound feels impossibly vast and beautiful. The hilly terrain is absolutely covered in birch and maple trees. Nazis don’t deserve trees. Nobody gave me the task of kicking the shit out of some racists, and that’s what I’m going to do.
“You still haven’t told me the plan yet. You do have a plan, right?” Tuesday asked.
“I’m going to go in there and cause enough of a problem that they will have to send everything at me, including their Neuvohumans. Then I will fight them, they will lose, and then we’ll leave,” I answered matter-of-factly.
“That’s not a plan,” Tuesday said.
“Of course it is. I plan on beating the shit out of some nazis, so I will.”
“Listen, I love me some good joshin’ around and can totally vibe with the who gives a fuck attitude. But I am not bulletproof and would rather not die here by being turned into Swiss cheese,” Tuesday said.
Something I learned during our girls’ trip is that Tuesday can be serious when Nobody isn’t around. She's trying to get a rise out of him; she’s made it her life mission.
“You could stay in the truck, and the mission would still succeed. You haven’t seen what I can do yet, but just know that I could take on this entire compound and burn it to the ground,” I said.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You aren’t here as my backup; you’re here as an executioner. Wait until you hear the alarms, and then head inside. These fuckbags don’t deserve to have a place like this. I want to cripple them as a group permanently. While I’m drawing attention and fighting, you need to destroy their generators, their food supplies, everything. And remember no children,” I said.
“I’m an executioner? Me likey. And don’t worry, I’ll do my darndest to avoid hurtin’ any of the youngins—Scout’s honor. Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said, sporting a western cowboy accent.
“Quit fucking around, Tuesday, I know you’ve got your whole badass psycho-killer thing going, but you will not cross that line with me or else,” I said, grabbing her shirt.
“Or else what?” She asked, stretching out the A and batting her eyelashes.
I clench and unclench my hold on her shirt, debating if hitting her now would be warranted. No, think of what Nobody would do. I step out of the truck and look at her big, stupid grin.
“Or else I will show you why I’m enough to handle four Cowls.”
I close the door and stretch, making sure my body feels loose and limber. Everyone in there is a monster except the kids. You don’t need to hold back. I shift, instantly feeling the burning heat in my chest wash over me. The gated entrance is a half-mile away, and at a full sprint, I’m eating up the distance like it’s nothing. My long, powerful legs launch me forward; the wind whistling in my ears and the sound of crushing pavement are all I can hear. This is fun.
The wall gets closer and bigger as I approach. The wall is a massive thirty-foot-tall concrete barrier, curving outwards at the top and covered in barbed wire. The gate itself is made up of two solid metal slabs, each eight feet tall. Both sides of the gate have holes for guns to fire out of, and there are always at least six people manning it. It’s nighttime, and the moon isn’t out. Without any lights, there is no doubt they can see me coming. You aren’t ready for me. I can hear shouting and the crooning of alarms going off. I must look like the sun itself is approaching them.
Rifle barrels begin popping through the slits in the wall, and then a symphony of gunfire so loud it silences the alarms erupts into the night. The bullets bounce off me, and they change tactics when I don’t slow down my charge at all. The bullets stop for a moment, and then I hear whirring. They’re bringing out the big guns. Two miniguns pop out of the slots and unload an avalanche of ammunition at me. The larger caliber bullets ricochet off of me and blast chunks out of the road. I can hear them freaking out from behind the wall, and I smile as I crash into the gate. The metal does nothing to impede my charge, but instead of tearing through it like I thought I would, the concrete around it disintegrates as I push the gate forward.
Dust explodes into the air, and chunks of rock shower all around. I hear boots clamoring all around me as at least sixteen people form a semicircle around me. These aren't worthy opponents, and I am not here for a good fight. I hear the sounds of rifles loading their magazines, and then I see red lasers sweep through the cloud. From Tuesday's earlier recon, I know they have a treasure trove of military-grade weapons. I tense myself, ready to jump as the lasers drift through the dust before zeroing in on me.
“FIRE!”
The sixteen guns fire in near-perfect unison, punching holes in the dust clouds as the bullets blunt themselves against my hardened skin. They continue firing even as the dust disperses. I was right. Sixteen men, all wearing blue tactical gear, adorned with crosses, swastikas and other nazi symbols. All of them are white, clean-shaven, and crouched on one knee, aiming their gun at me.
“Where have you come from, demon? And why have you descended on our holy land?”
Oh great, they aren't just religious racists; they're also crazy. I’m sure Nobody won't mind if I fuck with them a little.
“I'm here to crush your strongest and then take them away,” I said, laughing maniacally.
“FIRE!”
Another storm of bullets whips up as they continue to shoot at me.
“THAT WON'T WORK. I'M OBVIOUSLY BULLETPROOF,” I shouted over the gunfire.
They ignore my advice and keep wasting ammo. All this time, from the moment I first transformed and started running, I've been heating up. I feel the heat in my core bubbling and boiling over. It’s a nice feeling as my temperature rises and the ground beneath my bare feet warms from my touch. They are very well-trained, and their movements are nearly synchronized. The problem with that is that they'll all be reloading at the same time. I wait it out and then strike at the man who spoke. A straight kick to his chest sends him flying through the air. The group scrambles back, some of them brandishing their sidearms while others whip out knives and shock batons.
The pistols don't do anything as I rampage; each hit I make incapacitates another one of these clowns. I’m holding back like I always do, but I am incapacitating every single one of them. A punch to the chest, an elbow to the spine, a spinning kick to the waist, all designed to cripple permanently. I won’t kill them, but they will live out the rest of their lives in painful misery. One of the knife wielders charges at me, and I pick him up with one hand, his clothes singeing in my grasp. I chuck him at another guy and look for my next target. Only two guys are left so I charge them both. The two men show no fear on their faces, only determined hate.
“You abomination. You are trespassing on sanctified soil and will be executed for your crime,” one of them shouted.
“Go fuck yourself.”
I grab the two men’s heads, and they scream as my hands burn their faces. I smack their heads together, knocking them out, and then I toss them aside. Their faces smoke from the mark of my handprint. I’ve reached a temperature where my surroundings are going to start being affected. Gotta speed this up. Alarms are blaring, but I still don’t see the four I’m meant to be hunting. There are several buildings around me, and I know that the homes where everyone lives are closer to the center of the property. I bounce on the balls of my feet, throw out a few punches, and then sprint full speed at the closest building. I blast through the wall without slowing down, continuing through the other side. I’m not actually going to attack any noncombatants, but they don’t know that.
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More soldiers are closing in on my location as I make a beeline for the center of the compound, all the while getting hotter and hotter. Bullets fly at me but turn to molten slag as they come into contact with my body. I feel a sense of freedom right now that I can’t remember feeling before. Every step I take torches the ground, and walls glow red as I hit them—all the while, I barrel through everything and anything in my path. I sprint into a building that explodes as I go through it. They must have had something explosive or flammable inside. I am a flaming meteor of destruction hurling through the night, obliterating everything these pieces of shit have ever built. At the rate I’m going, I might accidentally make it to the houses before the Neuvohumans come out. That would suck. I’m saved from that eventuality because as soon I erupt from the building I’m in I find the people I’m looking for. They’re in a huge clearing, hundreds of feet in diameter, and devoid of any buildings. They’ve set up a last-stand killzone for me. How cute.
A man is floating in the air, cloaked in medieval knight armor made of bright light. There is a halo floating above his helm and several wings coming out of the back of him, both made of the same light. He’s giving off so much light that it looks like daytime. Well, that’s obviously Father Forward. Damnit, why does he look so fucking cool. Below him is an entire army of soldiers. They have miniguns set up on turrets, launchers, sniper rifles, and various other guns, all pointed right at me. Useless against me. As I continue to look around I see a ton of floodlights hooked up to generators, but none of them are turned on. There is a guy dressed in flowing white robes, his long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, and holding a large spear that looks like it’s made of jade. I might’ve mistaken him for a male model or some sort of monk if it wasn’t for the double SS and 88 tattoos on his cheeks. Next to him is a much larger guy whose stature gives Hotpants a run for his money. He’s dressed in the same silly robes as the other one, but his are sleeveless. He has glowing blue eyes, with a giant cross tattooed over his face from scalp to chin. His hair is cut short and is a ghostly white color. He’s holding two axes made of the same jade substance as the other. The Manipulator and the Bruiser, but which is which? I don’t see their general anywhere, but he could be hiding somewhere.
“Enough! You have bulldozed your way through our lands, sullying them with your impurities and harming God’s chosen. That stops here and now, you evil creature,” Father Forward shouted.
“Finally. I was worried you were going to hide away while I made a mess of things like a cowardly little bitch. But you know what? For a racist, worthless, ignorant bastard, you at least have a spine. I won’t say you have courage because nothing about you or anything you do here is courageous. Now, are you going to come quietly, or am I going to have to make you?”
“There are no cowards amongst my flock, no soldiers afraid to give their lives to defeat unclean sinners, and I will not let the faith they have placed in me go to waste. What I have here are proud Aryan warriors, and we will not bow to you, foul demon.”
“Why do all of you talk like it's the Middle Ages? It doesn’t matter I’m done talking to a bunch of shitty, racist LARPers,” I taunted.
Father Forward must be pissed because he doesn’t seem to want to trade barbs anymore. I am purposely aggravating the zealots to keep them on their toes. I’m going to have to discharge the heat soon. The grass around me is burning, and the ground is insatiable as it cooks below me. Minutes pass and we’re caught in a standoff, neither side wanting to commit. My heat is contained to a twenty-foot radius around, but it will continue to grow, and I could kill someone with the heat alone. Not again. I reach down and grab a chunk of hardened, displaced soil, and it catches fire as the heat evaporates the moisture. I spin around and chuck the makeshift meteorite like it’s a frisbee. It flies straight at Father Forward and hits him out of the sky. That’s gotta earn me a gold, at least.
None of them cry out in surprise or indignation. They respond immediately, the soldiers start firing, and the peaceful quiet is once again drowned out by bullet fire. The storm of metal doesn't even get within five feet of me before the bullets melt and lose all momentum. I can go a little longer before I'll have to cool down. I'm going to give them a little scare. I reach down and gather a bunch of the melted bullets, making a steel snowball. I raise a leg, striking a pitching pose, and whip it at a cluster of soldiers. The makeshift projectile separates as it flies, spreading out and managing to hit several soldiers. Sandbags burst, a generator sputters out and a sound like a mug shattering comes from the soldiers hit by the lava. I notice now that every person here has a very faint green glow surrounding them, all except for the soldiers I just hit. That's the general’s power.
Another wave of bullets commences, including rockets, but the rockets explode before they even get to me. I'm watching the hit soldiers like a hawk. If the general is going to help his men, he'll try and do it while I'm locked down. I spot someone moving around behind the rest of the men. Found ya. I sprint over to the line, intent on catching the general before he can reapply his power. I see movement out of the corner of my eye, a splash of white. The bigger monk tackles me, or at least tries to, but it does cause me to stop my approach. He backs away, but even being in my range for a few seconds causes his skin to sweat and turn red.
The guy is big, but I'm still four feet taller and hundreds of pounds heavier. He jumps at me and then swings one of the axes at my chest. I let it go through to test the material’s strength, and the axe rebounds off of my transformed hoodie. The material doesn’t shatter but it did give a slight tickle. He isn’t deterred and goes in for another swing. I dodge the strike and counterattack with a kick to his chest. The hit sends him stumbling back, but he doesn't fall. He's the Bruiser. His skin is roasting, being this close to me, and his face is scrunched in pain. Despite that, he remains focused, and he doesn't stop attacking. He relentlessly swipes at me with both axes, and while it's not doing any damage, I’m wary of some sort of surprise.
He's got me on defense, and that just isn't how Mr. Jonesby taught me how to fight. I weave forward, closing the distance his weapons grant him. I catch his wrist, crushing it, and kick away the axe he drops. I don't need to hold back with him. I use my free hand to punch his chest as hard as I can. My hand is a hot knife through butter and goes through the man, killing him immediately. Oh my god. I toss him away so that I can retrieve him later. He isn’t really dead. Keep calm.
“Listen to me. Stand down, all of you. This is not a fight you can win. I'm sure you've noticed the sweltering heat and rising temperatures. It is only going to continue until the heat consumes the air in your lungs. I will let you leave, and I will not pursue so give up. Your warriors can't beat me, your weapons can't hurt me, and none of you can stop me.”
“Do not falter, brave faithful. The demon is attempting to confuse you and tempt you into sin. I will show you the glory of our mission,” the spear-wielding monk said.
I look over at him with a mix of irritation and disbelief. He can't really believe they can beat me, right? He twirls his weapon and takes a giant step forward before throwing the jade spear ripping through the air at me. It's fast, but not fast enough that I can't dodge it. I sidestep the weapon with ease as it whizzes past, but I still get caught in the explosion that follows. I should’ve been ready for it; I knew beforehand what he could do. The concussive force is so great it blasts me off my feet, sending me forward. I did not think the explosions would be that powerful.
I push myself up, dusting the rubble off myself. None of the soldiers have taken my warning. The monk created a halberd and is spinning his weapon around him. I check on the Bruiser, and his chest wound has started to close. Based on the rate of regeneration, he’s going to be up in five minutes. I need to hurry up. I sprint at the monk, whose still twirling his weapon at me and smiling—cocky prick. It’s easy to be cocky when you’re half a football field away. Reducing the distance between us by half, I’m eager to see if he’ll run or not. Stupidly, he decides to match my charge. I lean over, dipping my hand into the ground to scoop up molten dirt and rocket it into the crystal maker. The lava buckshot hits him, and I see the glow surrounding him stop. The general’s power only blocks one singular attack. To the nut’s credit, he barely makes a sound as the bits of lava cling to his robes. He drops the halberd, materializing a crystal knife to cut and scrape the burning pebble-sized pieces off himself. His once pristine robes are now blackened, sliced, and burned. But his eyes are still defiant and hateful. His skin is blistering and crackling. I need to release the heat soon or there are going to be casualties.
He holds his hands together as a green crystal slowly grows. I know I shouldn’t let him finish, but there’s something about him that makes me want to fight him at his best. I understand these are terrible, awful human beings. But this guy is like me. In a world dominated by guns, there’s someone else who appreciates an old-fashioned faceoff. The crystal continues to grow, stretching and separating as it forms into two distinct forms: a tower shield and a spear. I smile and beckon him with open arms.
The man is now well within the range of my heat. He must be feeling like he’s inside an oven. He’s putting up a brave front but it’s obvious he’s going to faint soon. I can give him one last exchange before I go after the general. He doesn’t seem to want to be the one to make the first move. It’s obvious he knows what will happen if he recklessly attacks me. He’s taking deep, measured breaths and looks like shit. I rush him as he brings up the shield to meet me. It won’t work, buddy. He positions his spear to stab me when I get close enough, but I jump at the last moment. An obsidian knee meets a crystal shield, and the shield shatters into a million pieces. My knee continues unimpeded, hitting the man straight in his chest, blasting him away from me—his body ragdolls across the ground, flipping over and over. I held back a good amount; I hope he isn’t dead. Two of the targets are down. Probably more like one and a half. Bruiser will be up soon.
An explosion elsewhere on the compound makes everyone, me included, turn. A giant inferno rises into the sky, double the height of a house. I hear someone barking orders, but I can’t make them out over the sound of a second explosion, with another huge fire bursting into existence. Tuesday has started. A blinding light rises from where I sent Father Forward. The big boss is back. Still wearing his armor, he flies straight at me like an archangel ripped from the bible. All the previously dark floodlights turn on at the same time, and the darkness of the night is destroyed. He hovers above everything, hundreds of feet in the air. He activates his power, and the light from all the floodlights siphons up, twisting into the air, defying physics. Fuck, that is so cool. It’s beautiful the way the strands curve through the sky, separating and solidifying into javelins. Father Forward keeps creating more and more until there must be over a thousand of them pointed at me. I tear my eyes away from the spectacle to see all the soldiers are gone. They even dragged away the burn victim monk. The only one left is the Bruiser, pushing himself up onto his feet. He’s smiling like a kid who got away with a lie. I look back up and see there’s like a metric fuckton more javelins made. Thank you, Nobody.