The Class Representative’s words echoed through the chamber, along with a soft chime, and she pointed her staff at a broad shouldered man in a black uniform with gold trim sitting in the front row. The people surrounding him gazed on in obvious deference, and Brock thought his uniform had slightly more gold than the rest.
“The floor recognizes Councilor Lucio Antioch, High Priest of the Church of Seclusion. As initiator of this special investigative session, you may begin.”
“Hey Brock! He’s the leader of the Isolationist faction! Don’t twitch around! You’re the only one who can hear me! I’m here to help!”
Brock nearly jumped out of his seat at the suddenly vibrating magiphone in his coat pocket, accompanied by the intrusion of Bindy’s voice in his head, but managed to turn it into an adjustment of his chair.
...the fuck?
The High Priest rose to his feet and nodded gravely, his chiseled face and carefully parted black hair replacing Brock and the Director in the sphere hovering in the center of the room.
“Thank you, Class Representative. As all of you know by now,” he gestured smoothly to encompass everyone sitting in the chamber, “last night there was an... incident.”
The lights in the vaulted room dimmed, and the sphere changed to an overhead shot of tree-covered wilderness, night-time shadows occluding any details. Suddenly, the ground bulged up in a dome, blinding cracks leaking through the rupturing earth, and then a massive eruption of soil and light blasted skyward with a thunderous roar. Brock flinched back, barely registering the flurry of ice and fire that crashed down into the ground before another cataclysmic explosion filled the screen hundreds of feet above the torn and gouged surface. An instant later, the light faded, and the sphere was in shadows once more, the freshly created wasteland this time lit by scattered fires and irradiated earth steaming softly in the darkness, a thin streak of ionized air molecules crackling off to the right in a coruscating blue trail.
When the images in the sphere finally faded, the silence in the chamber somehow seemed deeper.
“Our scrying satellites captured what you just saw at twenty-one thirty-seven local time. The incident lasted for less than two seconds, and shows clear signs of high level Sekkie involvement.”
High Priest Antioch gestured with his hands, and the image in the sphere returned to a still picture of the earth just beginning to burst open. The view zoomed in, and barely visible between the vaporizing rock and debris were two figures.
On the left was the silhouette of a man in a long coat, dark edges flung out like wings, a blur where his extended arms should be.
“Hey! That’s you, Brock! That’s you!”
I’m changing the default settings as soon as I get out of here. If I get out of here.
On the right was a nightmare abomination of twisted bone, nearly twenty times his size, four baleful emerald eyes piercing through the light haloing them both. Chunks of its body appeared to be flying away from the blurred area.
“If you watch closely,” the High Priest continued, “you will observe no less than seven level four abilities occurring almost simultaneously. We suspect some might have been higher.” Gasps filled the room. “This is the slowest we can replay what happened.” He gently twisted his finger, and the scene crept forward frame by frame.
Even at a greatly reduced speed, Brock found it difficult to keep track of the chaotic action. Fists and feet appeared and disappeared like mirages, along with vortexes of razor-edged ice and splinters of bone, then fire bloomed again and the figures were gone. He thought there might have been the faintest glimpse of them at the edge of the final frame, long coat trailing behind as the man dragged the colossus with one hand, but it might have just been a shadow from the nuclear clouds billowing out.
High Priest Antioch clapped his hands softly, and the sphere faded to its previous foggy chalk. The room filled with light once more, and he turned his eyes towards Brock and the Director, the sphere brightening with their faces. Behind the High Priest, Brock could see school-suited figures exchanging worried glances.
“Director Shimada,” High Priest Antioch began without preamble, “the larger creature - that was an Overlord-class Sekkie, correct?”
“It was,” the Director replied evenly. “He targeted my people the day prior. It seems he wanted to finish what he started.”
“And did he?”
“No. We sustained some minor injuries in the battle, but Squad Six is otherwise unharmed.”
“How fortunate,” the High Priest replied, his chiseled face showing no emotion. “How fortunate indeed. Correct me if I’m wrong, Director, but didn’t Squad Six’s previous encounter with the Overlord-class end with almost all of them unconscious and one operator close to death? Despite there being no level four abilities deployed by the Overlord-class?”
“It did,” the Director replied in that same even tone.
What’s going on? This feels like an interrogation, and it seems like they really don’t like each other.
“And Squad Six is your strongest team, correct? Thus making them the premier warriors available to us on the planet?”
“They are.”
“Then what changed?” Antioch asked sharply. “Between the first encounter and the second?”
“We-”
“I will tell you what changed!” the High Priest shouted, his face suddenly appearing in the sphere. He half-turned, as if not just speaking to the room, but billions unseen as well. “You unleashed an Overlord-class Sekkie of your own, and damn near obliterated twenty kilometers of prime wilderness! What if you had lost control of it?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Muttered grumblings rose around the room.
“I can assure you-”
The High Priest thumped his fist on the railing in front of him.
“When were you planning on informing the Council you had possession of such a weapon? One far surpassing your most powerful operatives?”
The grumbling grew louder.
“If you read the-”
“And isn’t it true that you brought this weapon before us today? Isn’t that it sitting right there?! Ready to unleash who knows what horrors upon us all?!?”
Antioch leveled an accusatory finger at Brock, a satisfied look on his dour face, and the room exploded into an uproar. The entire black-uniformed section of seats were on their feet with fists raised, joined by several other factions, and Brock felt his heart begin to race.
“Relax Brock! He’s only posturing! You’re doing great!”
Bindy’s cheerful words did little to calm the sick feeling spreading through Brock’s stomach. He was just about to say something to the Director when High Priest Antioch slammed his hand down again, somehow cutting through the din.
“I demand that the weapon be turned over to the Church of Seclusion for further study! The Cataclysm Squad is clearly unequipped to properly handle it under subsection twenty three alpha durian beta oh two of the Manford/Hawlings Extra-Dimensional Invader Convention! I motion for an immediate vote of no confidence!”
A roar of approval from the black uniforms met his words, but next to Brock, the Director’s lip quirked up in a tiny smile. Just as quickly, it disappeared.
“And now he’s overstepped! There’s no way the others will let him seize that kind of power! Especially not when he cited the subsection incorrectly! Baka! That means ‘idiot,’ Brock!”
The Class Representative tapped her staff lightly on the floor and the chamber fell silent, though not motionless. Almost casually she pointed it at the very top row, towards the section of mascots, where a sad-looking cow with curly brown hair surrounding a woman’s face poking out of its mouth had an arm raised. Below her, soundless fists were beginning to fly between several figures in the crop-top and plaid-miniskirt faction and the red-booted thugs.
“The floor recognizes Councilor Rin Softheart of the Safe Sekkie Society.”
“Thank you, Class Representative.” The sphere flickered to life, displaying a slightly rounded face with high cheeks and liquid violet eyes that made Brock’s heart skip a beat. The bouncing chestnut curls dangling down from either side threatened to send him into cardiac arrest.
Whoa. She’s gorgeous underneath that cow outfit. She looks tired, though. And familiar... have I seen her before?
“I would like to raise a point of order,” she continued.
Down below, High Priest Antioch scowled up at her and pointed his index finger.
“Objection!”
On the screen the cow flinched back slightly, and the Class Representative clucked her tongue.
“Settle down, ace attorney. This isn’t a trial, and you don’t have the floor. I am issuing your first, and only warning.”
A silver cylinder crackling with ominous energy appeared around the High Priest, and he reluctantly lowered himself back into his seat, folding his arms across his chest, but the rest of the black and gold uniformed figures surrounding him continued their histrionics. The Class Representative stared at him.
“I would hope you haven’t forgotten this applies to your faction as well.”
The High Priest grimaced, then raised a hand. Almost instantaneously, his followers sank back into their seats, and the Class Representative gave a slow nod.
“Councilor Softheart, you may continue.”
Patting her face lightly as if to reassure herself, the cow mascot looked around the room.
“If the weapon didn’t cause any loss of life, then subsection twenty three alpha durian beta oh two does not apply.” She cleared her throat and set her jaw. “Also, it is extremely demeaning to Sekkies to refer to them as inanimate objects like weapons.” Grumbling began to rise again, but undeterred, Rin continued. “In fact, it is beyond demeaning to refer to us as ‘Sekkies’ in the first place, and I for one-”
Thirty seconds and five black eyes later, the Class Representative had restored order once more. Glaring over her staff, she scanned the room. Sullen faces scowled back at her.
“Disregarding the latter parts of her point of order, Councilor Softheart is correct. Director Shimada’s actions have not resulted in any civilian loss of life, and subsection twenty three alpha durian beta oh two of the Manford/Hawlings Extra-Dimensional Invader Convention does not apply. He has acted within the bounds of the Charter.” Scattered applause rose up from some of the other factions, and a blush stole across the cow mascot’s cheeks. The Class Representative arched an eyebrow at Antioch. “Would you like to call your vote?”
“Motion rescinded,” the High Priest growled. “I yield the floor.”
A dark-skinned man in an elegant white and blue uniform rose to his feet, and the Class Representative pointed her staff at him.
“The floor recognizes Councilor Davien Drast of the Capitalist Collective.”
“Thank you, Class Representative,” he replied in a silky voice, and Brock felt a curious tingle in his stomach.
Whoa. He’s really handsome too. Is it a requirement to be unfairly good-looking to be on this Council?
“I would like to propose a joint task-force dedicated to exploring the potential synergies of the weapon as it relates to our current individualistic needs-”
Brock’s eyes started glazing over.
“-headed, of course, by Director Shimada, but subject to a board of trustees drawn from a broad array of member-focused disciplines-”
He looks really confident up there.
“-composed of this august body so that we may utilize any and all breakthroughs for the betterment of our shared society in order to-”
I wish I could be that confident.
“-maximize unrealized paradigm shifts in the heretofore unrealized frontiers of-”
A wave of applause drowned out the last of his words, intermingled with lusty boos from the black and gold uniformed contingent, and Brock found himself on the verge of standing and joining the applause.
Wow, whatever he said, it sounded really good. I wonder how he makes his hair look like that. Wow.
Next to Brock, the Director rose from his chair, and the ovation slowly died out. Sheepishly, Brock lowered himself back down to a sitting position.
“Point of order,” the Director said mildly. “Without a vote of no confidence, the Cataclysm Squad retains full oversight of Sekkie-related matters, correct? Including the release of relevant information to an ongoing investigation, as well as necessary needs authority?”
“That is correct, Director Shimada,” the Class Representative responded neutrally. The Director nodded.
“In that case, is Councilor Drast proposing a vote of no confidence?”
The room turned its attention to the handsome man, who ran a hand over his tight curls sheepishly, a slight blush reddening his dark cheeks.
“Oh, I couldn’t do anything like that. I was just offering what I thought would be a welcome compromise that everyone could live with.”
Brock felt the air leave his lungs, joining the soft sigh sweeping the chamber. It felt like some momentous opportunity had been left to wither on the vine, never to flourish again. Beside him, the Director silently retook his seat. The Class Representative tapped her staff against the floor.
“Very well. In the absence of binding legislation from the World Council, the Cataclysm Squad retains full control of the Sekkie known as ‘Brock Unmanly’ pursuant to the Necessary Needs clause of the Manford/Hawlings Extra-Dimensional Invader Convention, and will be solely responsible for such necessary reclamation efforts required by actions of said subject. Everyone here is enjoined under pain of me getting really pissed off to keep the information disclosed in this session an absolute secret until such time Director Shimada declassifies it or is removed from office.”
The Class Representative smashed her staff into the floor, releasing a cloud of sparkling motes from the golden circle inlaid in the floor, and Brock thought he saw a look of relief on her face.
“This special session is adjourned.”