It was when the stars stopped falling that the battle in the buffer zone entered its second phase.

This coincided with the amputation of Bob’s leg, but before I tell you how that went, I think it’s best to keep things cohesive, chronological.

The dust that had risen from the buffer zone wasn’t due to Jack Chandler’s powers, it was naturally occurring, due to the blasts from the sky.

That power would remain a mystery. The Ints theorised that it was something he picked up during June, ancient Egyptian theology placed a significance on the stars and the sky, is what I heard.

I’d believe that whatever monster had that ability before Chandler could have been the one who destroyed Egypt, I haven’t a clue as to why he was hesitant to use it. Its range was miles, its potency was enough to turn reinforced steel into Swiss cheese, (though the architecture of the city kept anything in the actual city from collapsing.)

Was there a stamina to it? Could he not use other abilities while it was in affect? Was there a chance of it hitting him?

I’m glad I was too busy to think about any of that, it never even came to mind with all the trouble in the city centre.

All I know is that with that power, he was able to wipe out the entire squad of Lindenburgs.

I don’t have a firm grasp on how powerful those things are, but I know they’re highly mobile, highly deadly mech suits.

And he was able to destroy all but one.

The driver of the lone machine had gone radio silent. There was no point keeping comms open, the pilot knew that when facing unknown powers, the more ‘noise’ you make, the more likely it is that you’ll get caught.

There was a pattern to how the stars fell: firstly, they fell from an angle, from the east. The attack rotated in a spiral centred on their battle, like a churning whirlpool that teemed with deadly fish. Somehow, through the rubble, smoke, celestial rain, fear of death, and bulky metal chassis, the pilot was able to figure out the most cost-effective route through it all.

They kept calm, flew high, and turned off the engines at the right time. Like I said, their desire was to make as little ‘noise’ as possible. They did exactly what they needed to in order to finish the job.

But there were more people fighting then those in the Lindenburgs.

In the midst of all that destruction walked M.D Ali, who had removed himself from his mech. Stood beside him was Isaac, and behind them both, Aayan, the civilian who just so happened to be a Unit that could have helped.

I don’t know much about what happened in that moment, the only events of the battle that I have a first-hand account from is the pilot.

It was a result of Ali’s powers that not one hit landed on them. At least not directly. Both of Ali’s powers were limited to a range, the first, the one that he had used on Jack at the beginning, had a wide range, the one he was using now, was about a couple feet around his body.

The first, was illusory. The second was sleight of hand.

That’s the basic breakdown.

Aayan probably hadn’t been in a fight before; I can’t blame him for doing nothing.

Yet Isaac Creh-umha, Mor of the Free Fomorians, who had grown stronger over June, did nothing to save his allies. He was being cautious, letting Jack Chandler lay his cards out one at a time. By Clover’s explanation of the Channeler’s powers, Isaac could have used his suit just fine, all that Jack would gain from copying it would be an understanding of how it works, he wouldn’t even have the resources to build it.

If I was in the sea-king's position, if I had his moral flexibility, I would have made an attempt to end it as quickly as possible, his caution had led to his cover being blown away and the deaths of twenty people.

Again, I don’t know what was going on in the minds of those under the fog of war, but I wonder if there was another reason Creh-umha hesitated.

One of his powers was simply the ability to use the suit, a compatibility with it.

I wonder if a part of him was afraid that the suit would choose Jack over him.

The three Units remained inactive as far as I know, never encountering their enemy as they wondered the now crater on the edge of the city.

They too kept quiet by design. I don’t know what their plan was, if they had intended for Jack to stop using the meteor shower in order to gauge his surroundings, or to move forward.

For whatever reason, Jack did stop his attack.

And began a new one. Or at least, the clean-up.

As the lone pilot flew above the dust, they began a tactical retreat to the border of the old battle ground. That’s when they observed the centre of the pit blast up with smoke, the form of the Gator barely visible under the bulge in the clouds.

The pilot’s instincts said to run faster.

It was a moment too late to steady themself, as with a swipe of the giant replications tail, waves of black rolled away and upwards.

Too late to steady, but just in time to save herself from a brutal crash.

There was of course a crash, but it was rolled into, although the chassis was not designed for such a motion, she managed to pull it off.

She tried the emergency open, but it failed. She reached down for a box locked in place by her side.

She pulled out an axe. Not one meant for emergencies, one meant for killing, and cutting ice. She wedged it between the frames of the ‘chest’ of the robotic frame, and pried her way out, a cloud of dust breaking in as she broke out.

She winced and covered her eyes.

She wasn’t blind, the Gator had served to clear even the outskirts of the warzone pretty well.

Her sense of direction held strong, as she edged closer to the centre of the arena, until they were in sight, two figures standing half a dozen metres apart, they were little more than planks standing up right in the basin of the pit. Water from sewage pipes had spilled out into a thin sheet over the ground, filling the air with a rotten smell.

She saw now, that the one closest to her was the enemy. The other had a devious smile, and was broad of frame.

“Don’t you think we should move out of here? I’m not talking about the ground caving more than it has, I mean I’d rather not get piss on my shoes.” Ali was stroking his chin now.

Jack remained silent, still.

The pilot got low. She was hoping that Ali’s illusion wasn’t in affect.

Her understanding of the first of the exterminator’s abilities was that he altered perception. Right became left, up became down, back became forward. It was a perfect illusion, excluding the sense of touch. Say a building was behind you, under Ali’s illusion, you would see that building without looking at it.

The thing is, Jack had that power now as well. In the initial assault, Ali had used it when they were circling Jack in the Lindenburgs, when that smoke power had been thrown up by Jack.

Even a being that manipulates the powers of Units like clay could be tricked by Ali’s mastery of that power.

But a trick can only fool someone for so long, or not at all. Ali was immune to his own altered perception, not the Channeler’s.

As soon as they had attacked Jack, the illusion was broken, allowing him to copy it, and use it on Ali.

Of course, Ali would see this coming, so he had probably placed a new illusion on Jack as soon as the first had broken. This would mean that the altered perception that Ali was experiencing was created by someone incorrectly perceiving reality.

This could go on and on, a constant stream of mind games, self-doubt, and one-upping. Whether or not the illusion was in Ali’s favour or not didn’t matter. Jack was frozen in place.

The entire scenario was clearly meant to screw with him, out of the three Units the one with the shit eating grin and a couple cards up his sleeve just happened to be the only one to survive the shower? Not likely. That this was meant to stall him while Isaac and Aayan- the latter of which being a complete unknown- followed a plot? Likely.

The M.D waved a hand out, “What’s the matter Channeler? D’you like the smell of shit or somethin’? Why don’t you pull out the Gator? Or a mini-quake and smoke? Or turn the shower back on, or link with my brain, or pull some other move that I have no right resisting?”

He was trying to get in his head.

“You don’t seem the least bit injured. You’re not tired out. So what’s the problem? Have you realised that this ain’t worth it yet? Cause whatever it is that you came here for... You can’t get it, no matter how much of a monster you are. You’re still a single entity, Unit or not. Even if you could take the three of us on at once, invading this city will make you our bosses’ number one enemy- hell, they’ll probably market the whole thing to make it look like you destroyed Egypt.”

Jack did speak. But no matter how hard the pilot tried to listen to what he said, she simply couldn’t fathom what he was saying.

That is until he asked the question, “Do you know what the most powerful attack in creation is?”

This was undoubtedly a part of Ali’s plan, to distract the enemy, if only for a second. The agent answered, “I don’t think there is a most powerful ability. It’s not the tool, it’s how you use it. If I had to guess what you think the most powerful ability is, I’d say one of Bastard’s-”

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” Jack started to circle, “Not a single trick you’re pulling is imaginative or original. Your ability is nothing but a simple parlour trick, your words are empty and carry no weight.”

The pilot shifted, hesitation building in her stomach.

“Firstly, you can’t get into my head. I know things you can’t even dream. Secondly, you don’t have an army backing you up. You have three people, not Units, people. You're ready to put your life on the line, but they aren’t. The sea-mutant is an ally, but only so long as there is something to gain from this alliance. As long as there is a chance he can lose something, his heart will waver.”

“Obviously, experienced as you are, you understand that. You aren’t relying on him to attack me, he’s a bluff. You tried to focus my attention on the pooling water, something that would play to his strengths. I’m sure you are planning on using it somehow, just because it’s there. Maybe the civilian has a power that plays to it. Maybe he can control water, or freeze it. Maybe he can shoot electricity from his fingertips, or maybe he can create little gremlins from shit. It doesn’t matter.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Ali remained unphased.

Jack finished his point, “The thing about it being three against one? You will always have a weak link or two. The thing about me is that I have no weaknesses. I am, inarguably, a perfect being.”

He then shouted out, not a hint of emotion in his voice, “I said I was going to kill you first, Aayan, and I meant it. All you need to do is show me where you are, fire off an attack- and I'll stomp you’re head in.”

Ali’s figure stood still for an age. The pilot waited for something, anything to happen. But nothing did.

“Speech, is humanities-”

Ali made a move, drawing a sharp edge from nowhere, which was met by a black shard being summoned by Jack.

When the square of the Gator’s tail met the clear straight blade, the latter sent the former flying in the opposite direction.

As the blade approached, Jack threw up a steel barrier, barely blocking the two blades.

Ali smiled, looking forward, “Clever? There's no doubt that I'm a genius! I’m a doctor, a street magician, a world-class badass, I'll play every card I’ve got, even if it’s a poor hand! In the end, it isn’t what you’re dealt-”

Jack grew the Gator’s exterior forcing the agent back.

“-it’s the poker face.”

That perfect being hadn’t noticed. He was so focused on the Units, the ones he couldn’t see, and the one that was misdirecting him, that he didn’t realise there was a single mortal woman standing behind him.

That axe that was make for breaking ice tore into that being’s arm, through all of the altered realities, one-upping, bluffs, physics defying cosmic power, it was a bronze age tool that landed the first blow.

Yuki frowned, “Man, I’ll need a raise after this.”

…

“Uh... uh, kid? Sh- sh- we?”

Bob was out of it. Honestly, I’m glad he was. If he wasn’t, he’d probably be screaming like crazy, alerting any monsters roaming through the inside of the building.

I was talking to myself more than him, “We’ll make it through this just fine. I haven’t been up this high before- well, I haven't tried to scale a building as tall as this, but uhm- theirs a first for everything, right? Like, with all this destruction, I'm sure climbing down won’t be an issue. Plenty of stuff to grab onto, right?”

It was the best idea I had. Riding the elevators while the people on the top floor were fleeing seemed like a bad idea, breaking through the floor seemed worse. So it was time to put that climbing training to good use.

I was on the outside of the building a couple floors above where I fought the pig head, when the smoke in the distance was dispersed, and I wondered if that was a good sign or not. I was glad the meteor’s had stopped, that’s what made my climbing possible.

After a couple seconds, I was regretting my decision. Know when you look down and realise, you’re actually really high up? I was really high up, and I looked down.

I’d probably survive the fall, but Bob wouldn’t. And the fact I was doing all this with him slung over my neck, wasn’t helping. The entire time I was climbing up, I was scared that he’d slip, or a gust of wind from the distant battle would finally reach, throwing us out into the open.

I was climbing up slowly with sweat dripping from my hands, not from effort obviously. The panelling designs actually helped quite a bit. That, and the giant holes.

I’ve done a lot of drawing for art, when I'm not working with fabric, I'm doodling designs and sometimes buildings. I won’t claim to be an architectural genius, but I can recognise when something is... off.

I was around twenty-four floors high, and there didn’t seem to be any of modern architecture’s sensibilities. The panels on the outside had a sort of wavy pattern on the square tiles, which varied in size drastically.

The question finally came to mind, how did they build this?

It was almost like this building, no, the entire city had been lifted from some dark foreboding future. I guess you could only explain this structure’s existence with, ‘it’s sci-fi magic’.

That sinister feeling was over shrouded by the fact that we had reached our destination.

Before he lost it, Bob told me where to find the Rebirthing fluid. There was a production and storage facility on one of the middle floors. Access was limited to your rank and position, to keep the Internationals’ most important piece of equipment safe.

I broke into the lowest floor with a kick, slipping into a filing room. Following evacuation guidelines, the secretaries working here were gone. I was hoping that any guards that worked here were out as well.

But on the off chance that they weren’t, I'd have to be sneaky.

The first wall I punched had blasted apart without any problems. So did the second, third, fourth and fifth.

When I said sneaky, I meant I wouldn’t be walking straight through the front door. Acting like a human wouldn’t get me anywhere if there were guards here, they’d avoid a rampaging monster searching for a Unit.

It was the sixth wall I punched, “OW!” I leaned over grasping at my throbbing fist.

This was the first time I'd punched something and it didn’t break.

Well, the outer casing broke. I put Bob down and peeled away the purple panels to reveal a flat grey surface. When I imagine ambiguously, ‘metal surface’, this is what would come to mind. It was slightly reflective, if dull.

The panels that I had busted down were reinforced, and I made short work of them. But this hadn’t been damaged at all.

I’d later find out that this substance was called Sub-terrainium.

“Right... This must be it, huh?” I turned to Bob, who was groggy. “Wait here. I’ll find somebody who can get us in. Or I'll find a way to break it.”

With that, I cautiously kicked through the wall adjacent, and the wall behind it, and so on. I tested the walls on my left as I went, all of them were still too tough to shatter.

Eventually I broke through a wall, and was rippled with bullets. I covered my mask to stop it getting damaged, and said, “Oh, good. That didn’t take long.”

I walked forward, a little afraid of any stray bullets ricocheting of me and less so that this would hurt me.

I didn’t want to break their weapons; they’d need them if a monster came along.

So I made my decision.

I turned around and put my hands up.

There were two ways I could win here, one, they run out of ammo, or two, they figure out that I'm not some kind of goblin.

The latter, the better option, won out.

“Turn around!” One shouted. “Slowly now!”

I did as I was told, “You guys aren’t really in any position to make requests, you know that? You were watching as I busted through that wall, right?”

I smiled as they remained silent, unable to resist me, “I’m here for a canister of that fluid. Can you hook me up?”

One stuttered for a second, I twisted my wrists around, “It’s not even for me! It’s for one of your guys. I won’t say who, in case he gets in trouble for all...” I pointed a thumb back, “-that.”

The one that had stuttered, whispered to his partner, “He’s a fucking Unit. What do we-”

“We’re not giving you shit. Do you really expect us to open that vault during an assault? You’re shit out of luck. I’m not selling my soul to some Mountain bastard.”

“I’m not with the Mountain.” I lowered my hands, they opened fire, their automatic rifles blaring over anything I said.

‘Words are useless then...’ I thought.

I picked up the one that was stuttering in a quick motion. The other stopped firing just a little too late.

One or two stray bullets had struck.

He cried out, as the one with more confidence finally froze.

“Open it, or two men are going to die.” It wasn’t meant to be a threat; I was just stating a fact.

“I tried reasoning with you- I tried being reasonable, but this place isn’t like that is it? Would you seriously let somebody bleed out in front of you because it was your job to keep that door shut? I’d make a joke about American health care, except I'm not in a joking mood.”

“I’ve got lives to save.”

…

The lower half of Bob’s body was submerged in foam, and I'd used a little on my hand, just to keep it at peak condition.

Dr Attrition had warned me against using this stuff as an amateur, but here I was, rubbing the stuff in like it was lotion.

I just left the vault guards alone; they’d slow us down. I knew I had to pace myself, first I save Bob, bring him down to the others, get them to the flying-thing, then I can really help. Then I can really be a super hero.

That’s what I was thinking.

“Hey, Kid...” Bob had become intelligible, “How are we doing?”

“Great,” I looked down at him, “Just try not to move. We’ll wait here for, like an hour, or whatever.” I had no clue how long it would take him to regrow two legs.

He looked over himself, Bob was lying on his back, the foam forming a mermaid tail over his other half.

“Did you-” he sounded angry now, “You covered my left leg as well?”

I shrugged, “Yeah, I’d rather not carry you everywhere.”

He looked mad too, “I don’t want a new foot!” I was confused by this, still am.

“You- you wanted to be crippled?”

He was struggling not to sit up, “No, I’m glad you repaired the one you removed, but I was going to reattach my old foot when I find it.”

I scratched my head, “If you’ve been looking for it for like two weeks now, then I doubt you’ll find it at all.”

A sudden look of pain over-came him, as his head fell down in a frown.

I thought about saying something, but then my phone rang, my Shamrock-phone.

I took it out and shouted into it, “Which floor are you guys on?! I’ll be down in a second-”

A voice just as loud shouted back, “Quiet!”

The voice took on a whispery tone, but the volume didn’t decrease, “Did you forget that you’re a Unit?! These things are attracted to your voice, idiot!”

It was definitely her voice, and from the sound of it, she was in trouble.

“Clover, what’s going on? Which floor are you on? I’ll-”

“We’re on the bottom, and while your dumb ass has been running around doing fuck-all, we’ve been running from a giant hedgehog!”

I asked again, “Which floor!”

“We’re outside! I said that, didn’t I?! Get your ass down here already! Be my meat shield!”

I hung up.

“Hey Bob-”

We stared at each other for a second.

“What?”

I scratched my head again, “Can I move you? Or will that- misshape you?”

“Uh, I guess it’s fine. It’ll take longer for me to heal, but it’s hardened up pretty nicely, so you should be able to pick me up without dislocating a vestigial leg, haha.”

I nodded, picked him up with one hand, and jumped out the window.

I had a half-full canister left, so even if I accidentally broke Bob’s back, I was thinking, or rather chose to believe, that I'd be able to fix it.

That’s not to say I didn’t fall with some caution, I kept close to the wall, jamming my arm into it to slow our descent drastically, it was basically a ton of falls with some short and sudden stops, through which Bob screamed the entire time.

When we reached the bottom, not much changed. There were similar marks left in the ground by meteors, and a ton of damage from less sturdy buildings half collapsing.

As Bob was catching his breath, I told him, “I’ll run around, see if I can find the other-”

It was at that moment that gunfire sounded off not too far away.

With a smile, I ran off.

I weaved around a couple buildings with a few kicks. I’ve realised that I’m not actually that fast. I can jump straight forward, but I can’t push my legs up and down any quicker with my powers. I can’t run normally.

So when I turned a corner and went flying toward a wall of spikes, all I could do was jam a leg into the ground.

The spikes nearest to me reacted, moving so that they would pierce my vitals, and they grew longer too.

It was like a monster jumping out in a horror movie, and my desperate attempt to run away solidified that impression.

What broke it was a further inspection of the monster.

It wasn’t a wall of spikes, it was half a sphere, barely encompassing the entire street. Every seven-meter-long spear from tip to base was blue to purple. There was a kind of pattern to how the spikes came out of the creature, like how a pineapple has a kind of spiral pattern in its spines.

It all converged on a stub, about the size of a football, shaped like an American one.

Flying backwards I ended up crashing into a building, which was thankfully vacant. I took a second more to observe the monster.

There was a shift in the spines, some of them retracted and fell flat, mainly the ones to its side so it could turn to face me, it’s prey.

I now understood that inside the thick coat of spines was a type of rodent, long and thin, keeping that same size through its whole body, finally narrowing in its head. It was like a traffic cone, not sharp just cone shaped. It had shrewd eyes, like it was squinting at me in confusion.

I’d later find out that this thing was called Sermilik. And it was another one of the eighty-one.

It finally pushed its spikes forward again, guarding its head at the same time.

It seemed pretty slow to react to me, so my plan was to hit it hard, and fast

What I didn’t know was that this thing’s greatest sense was its vision, and it could see me now.

As I flew out to punch it in its nose, it pushed a spike out, piercing my knuckle.

It didn’t get very far though, the only thing that had pushed it in was my own momentum. As I was dangling on the air by it, I tightened my fist and broke the spine with my free arm.

As I fell to the ground, I took a moment to remove the splinter. Some sort of ooze leaked from it, but I didn’t pay much attention to that, as the hedgehog pointed a spiked wall at me.

I was in the middle of making a plan when gun fire came from behind it. To this, it tightened the spines on its back to protect itself. I look the opportunity to pick up a hand full of rubble and throw it at the monster.

Every rock was safely deflected by its thorny shield.

“Huh. I am seriously off my game today.”

It went on the offensive now, jabbing its spears at me. I dodged most of them, the rest hardly scratched me. That made me a little braver.

I pushed forward, letting it graze me as I moved, with every slight graze I was getting closer, and closer.

Until finally, I got close enough.

Thing is, I forgot my arm wasn’t restricted anymore.

I’d probably have been able to kill it without my recent workout routine, but I doubt I could have sent if flying.

Now, with one punch, I killed it. With one punch I sent it flying.

It twirled off after its head crumpled. Leaving the path in front of me clear, and a near by building destroyed.

Luckily, I didn’t send it straight down the street.

They were there, all three of them, Clover, Charlie K, Hunter, they were safe.

They were looking at me with half astonishment, now that I think about it, not even Clover had seen me fight seriously. This was the first time I had an audience that could appreciate me.

I asked myself if I had always been this strong, if the fight with the pig really was just a bad match; if everything so far had just been a case of bad luck.

Clover’s jaw was hung wide.

She looked like she had something to shout.

Charlie looked at me with a glow in her eyes. She managed to pull herself together while I was away.

Hunter might have become even more weary of me, maybe he was taking that threat from earlier more seriously.

All I could do in response was smile.

Clover shook her head, blubbering nonsense, her usually crazy raving of curses and insults.

She was grabbing at her head, shaking, and pointing at me.

Hunter grit his teeth before shouting out, “It’s barbs are venomous! Even a scratch is lethal!”

“What was that?” I asked dumbly.

Clover roared out.

All I could do was smile.