When Lacy came to, the first thing she heard was her name being shouted over and over again.
“Lacy! Lacy! Wake up! Lacy, you gotta wake up!”
The next thing she noticed was the hand roughly shaking her shoulder and her frustration spiked. Why was everyone always demanding things from her! Her mother had never even heard of the word please. Her friends had always invited her over to use her for the things she had or the answers to her homework, never for the sake of her company.
All her life, she felt abused and used by those she was supposed to be closest with. No one had ever seen her for her.
No, not no one.
A smile touched her lips as she thought of Dirk. Tall, handsome, strong. Heroic, too, though it was buried under a dozen layers of trauma and rough edges. But she saw him for who he truly was. And the best part of it was, he saw her, too.
Thoughts of Dirk triggered a realization in the deep recesses of her mind and she finally remembered that she was on a battlefield. Her eyes snapped open to see Frank leaning over her, his panicked face peering down at her.
“Oh, thank God,” he muttered. “Lacy, you gotta get up! The soldiers are killing each other!”
Those words gave her new life and she sprang to her feet with Frank’s help. In a glance, she confirmed what Frank had said. Soldiers were firing into each other and into the demons, forming a triangle of death that was tearing through the front line.
Panic immobilized her for a few precious seconds.
I can’t save them, he’s controlling too many…
You’re right…let’s just give up. It was a familiar voice in her mind, one she’d heard hundreds of times throughout her life.
It was the voice that always crept in when things got tough, when the chips were down and she wondered what was the point of it all. She was always going to be a disappointment to someone for something. When she’d been rejected from every single university her parents had pushed for. When she’d then been rejected from every single medical program they considered reputable enough for their daughter. When she’d gotten a B in a class. When she’d…done anything in her life, it had never been good enough.
Who the fuck did she think she was, thinking she mattered? That she could save these people dying around her—let alone the leaders of the United States.
She was a fuck up. A disappointment. Never enough…
But she knew one other person who was a fuck up. His fuck ups were perfect scores on the standardized test they gave to fuck ups. And yet, she’d seen that man do things that mattered. Saved dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of people. He had started small and was now humanity’s best hope for survival.
Start small, she thought. Save one. Then two. And eventually, hundreds and thousands.
She climbed to her feet, not needing Frank’s direction to pinpoint the affected soldiers. Her ability snapped into place, faster and more seamlessly than it ever had before. The soldier shook his head, staring down at the rifle in his hands like it had betrayed him. But Lacy wouldn’t let the man wallow in self-pity. Somehow, she could feel his mind beginning to crack…and she held it together.
The realization that her ability was far more nuanced than she had believed only gave her a brief thrill. The sound of screams and gunfire pulled her attention to the next soldier turning on his brothers.
An hour ago, she might have limited herself, knowing for certain that there was no possible way to hold her [Fortify] ability on two separate targets. Hell, it was in the ability’s description. But the fear of failure wasn’t a reason not to try.
She’d stretched an ability before. Knowing what it felt like to pull her projections taut across a wide area shaped her intent as she tried to manipulate the feel of [Fortify].
Stretch, she thought. Stretch…stretch…
The ability fought her, pulling tight like a rubber band about to snap. In her mind, she visualized the spell as a helmet, spherical in shape as she encased the target’s mind, protecting them from their own dark thoughts. She massaged that sphere from the inside, pushing out against the elastic nature of the ability. It tried to snap back into place, but she imagined it holding its shape, accepting the extension as she formed it into a slightly larger sphere.
Then, larger.
A second mind flared to life inside her ability’s domain, nearly pulling her out of her focus. That second presence was so vastly different, she nearly lost the ability right then and there. That mind was angry, on the verge of charging into the horde with reckless abandon. The first mind, she had brought back from a spiraling cycle of self-pity and horror. But the work she was doing for him didn’t positively affect the second mind. Even though she’d stretched her ability to two targets, it wasn’t enacting the effects of the ability on both.
Instead of trying to force a square peg into a circle hole, she changed the ability itself. She focused on a common cause, a guiding principle that could unite them all no matter the trauma they were experiencing.
I fight for the man at my side and he fights for me.
It was so much less nuanced than the default state of the ability, which seemed to naturally alter itself depending on the individual target. But just because it was simple, didn’t mean it wasn’t powerful. The two men under her ability felt a swelling of pride that she could almost see as they turned to continue firing into the demon horde. Their movements were smoother, their aim better, and they shouted together against the demonic enemies trying to overthrow their world.
Frank drew her attention to more targets and she nodded with a confidence that she wasn’t faking for possibly the first time in her life.
The ability stretched like putty, expanding outward as she shaped it with her mind. Three minds, then four. Then a dozen.
Within seconds, her [Fortify] ability was covering the entire front line and the demon horde faltered for the first time in the fight.
Your [Fortify] ability has evolved!
New ability — [Inspiration]!
***
“I have no quarrel with you, human.”
The Co’xatl liaison turned away, doing his best to ignore my presence.
I reached out and pushed him, the forcefield flaring to life, cutting off my momentum.
“Listen, I need you to accept this duel.”
The System sent him another notification as it stacked one more in front of me.
You are about to offer Allinmirok, warrior of the Co’xatl, an honorable duel to the death. This is the point of no return.
Confirm?
Y/N
The Co’xatl glanced over contemptuously.
“I have strict orders not to engage with human or Jree, except to relay messages to Umndirop himself. I will not violate that for your amusement.”
Goddammit, who knew it’d be so hard to get a duel?
“The fate of my world rests on this duel. I promise not to kill you, okay? Just accept and I’ll forfeit right away.”
His beady crocodile eyes regarded me dispassionately.
“I am Allinmirok,” the Co’xatl said proudly. “Second Blade to the great Umndirop. Before him, I served as First Blade to the greatest of our kind, Hundirop, son of Umndirop. Though honor dictates I should accept your challenge, the greater honor is to remain true to my liege’s orders.”
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With that, he turned his back on me with a finality that wouldn’t be questioned.
I growled, turning away as I began to pace.
I needed a duel in order to forfeit, but how could I get one if this guy wasn’t gonna play ball?
Whirling around, I spoke to Allinmirok.
“Fine, why don’t you go grab another of your people and I’ll duel them?”
He kept his back to me, acting as if he couldn’t hear me.
“Get Umndirop, then!” I shouted. The delay could mean dozens, if not hundreds, of deaths, but it was my only option at this point.
Still with his back turned, the Co’xatl spoke.
“Umndirop is inside the Tower and is unreachable. I shall relay your desire to meet when he returns.”
“God-fucking-dammit! I need him now!”
Allinmirok ignored me, his tail swishing casually as he dug something out of his talons.
“Fuck!”
I spun around, when something in the corner of the hall caught my eye. Standing alone in the alcoves that lined the far wall, stood a life-sized statue of Hundirop, son of Umndirop. An idea began to form, one that I wasn’t too proud of, but I was more than desperate enough to commit to it fully.
“First Blade of Hundirop, huh?” I mused to myself. In the corner of my eye, I felt the Co’xatl shift. “Must be tough, pledging yourself to a failure of a leader.”
The Co’xatl growled, but didn’t rise to the bait.
I just had to push harder.
“And now, Second Blade. Oof, guess Humndirop wasn’t too pleased you let his pride and joy get murdered by a little kitty cat—”
Something thin and fast slashed toward me—one of the Co’xatl’s bladed-whips. The forcefield sprung into place, but I didn’t let off the gas.
“It must gall Humndirop that his prodigal son was the first person of note to die in this Apocalypse.” I shook my head sadly. “Like, how wrong was he about his son, am I right? Talk about disappointment—”
Allinmirok let out an ear-splitting roar, charging me with a thousand pounds of body weight. The forcefield drained all his momentum as we collided, and his snout was frozen inches from my face as he chomped his teeth.
“Never disparage my master!” he growled. Spittle flew into my face and I was reminded of one of my own encounters against Kneer that felt like forever ago.
A noise rumbled deep in my throat. With a disgusting sound, I hawked a big wad of spit right into his face.
“I spit on that weakling Hundirop and his pathetic excuse for a father—”
Allinmirok, warrior of the Co’xatl, has challenged you to a formal duel under the eyes of Heaven. Use of your [Mantle] will not be permitted. [Mantle]-imparted traits are still active.
Accept?
Y/N
I let out a trembling sigh of relief, accepting the duel instantly. We were transported to the center of the sunken arena, frozen in place as another notification filled our visions.
Honorable combat has been initiated and accepted. Your [Mantle] has been disabled inside the arena. This fight is to the death.
Would you like to forfeit your [Mantle] and end the duel prematurely?
Yes, to accept dishonor, relinquish your status as Prime, and be banned from the [Hall of Heroes] forever.
No, to continue with the duel.
Y/N
As I read the notification one last time, I felt Red trembling in my mind.
I’m sorry, girl.
Yes
***
Craig reached out to another soldier, touching the man’s mind with a tendril of the Seed. It burrowed past the man’s surface thoughts, nestling deep inside the core of his being.
Your friends are infected, they’re killing the uninfected right in front of you. End the threat and be the hero you always knew you would be.
The roots settled in easily. After hundreds of tests with his Jree subjects, Craig had found that there were only three or four narratives necessary to house the Seed with little to no resistance.
Heroic ideation, jealous anger, blind duty, and occasionally, meaningless existential dread. With those tools at his disposal, he had unlocked hundreds of minds to the Seed already, spreading roots across entire armies.
But there were exceptions to every rule. For some creatures, the Seed couldn’t slither in, but rather, had to be rammed past the gates and injected into the psyche. The Alpha Brute he was riding now, being one such case. Subtlety didn’t work for a creature as old and powerful as this—it only understood strength and overwhelming power. So, that was how Craig controlled it, by battering its mental defenses so completely, it had no choice but to submit.
And yet, the battle wasn’t over. It continued to struggle against his hold even as it obeyed his every command. A small, nearly unconscious part of its simple brain continued to bang against the presence in its mind. It was a humbling experience for him, being forced to hold on so tight to such a basic mind. But he was beginning to understand that it was the simple minds that possessed the greatest defenses against the Seed. They were black-and-white, no nuance for Craig to exploit. The Alpha only knew strength and wouldn’t give in unless Craig flexed that strength, over and over and over again.
It was exhausting, but he had to admit, this was the most powerful creature he could possibly get his hands on. The president of the United States was only a couple hundred meters away and no amount of steel or concrete could resist the powerful horde he was commanding through the Alpha Brute.
In the back of his mind, the Seed trembled with pleasure at his train of thought, relishing in his push for power. It fed on that ambition, always driving him forward for more, never satiated if there was a bigger meal in sight.
If it were up to him, he would have preferred a more measured approach. The Jree Prime was fully on his side without any sort of mental control and he could have very easily leveraged that into greater and greater strength, until no one in the Tower—Climber or otherwise—could have stopped him.
But the Seed wasn’t patient. The Seed didn’t let him consolidate and leverage. Not when the Alpha Brute had appeared in the distance. It had practically shredded his mind when he had resisted at first, forcing him to claim the powerful demon. He had learned early on, though, that there was no resisting the Seed’s desires. The bargain he had made with Her wouldn’t let him steer the ship away from its intentions. It hungered for powerful thralls and he couldn’t divert it from its target once it had locked on.
Lemonade from lemons, he consoled himself. Though he had pushed for a measured approach, he had to admit, this was working, too.
His only regret was that he had let that simpleton slip out of his grasp. He’d been too assured in the strength of the Alpha, its danger sense so powerful that he had felt invincible. But as fast and as strong as it was, it could only address so many threats at once. It hadn’t been a fatal oversight, but it had been too close for comfort.
He just had to console himself with the fact that he could see Dirk’s band of misfits stubbornly resisting at the very front of the barricades. The man himself was nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t worry him—he’d seen the Alpha’s power and wouldn’t risk his life on another close and personal encounter. Still, he was surprised that the man had left his team to die.
Just to cover his bases, he directed the Seed to five Hellhounds on each side of the horde, creating scouts whose sole purpose was to point out Dirk. The Seed didn’t see the point, but the expenditure of power was small enough that it didn’t buck against the request.
Turning his full attention back to the task in front of him, he sent another tendril toward one of the minds belonging to a soldier.
A stray bullet in that Sergeant’s back wouldn’t be noticed in this frenzy. He has reprimanded you so many times without cause. You could end that right here and now—
The tendril was rejected with violent force, ricocheting back toward Craig and the Seed nestled deep in his mind. The feedback nearly sent him toppling off the Alpha’s shoulder, but the beast reacted intuitively, shifting its weight to steady him.
Craig’s eyes widened as the Seed went wild in his mind. He had only felt the Seed rejected a handful of times, but never so violently. He prepared five separate tendrils to quest forward slowly, gauge whatever it was that had caused the whiplash effect, when the Seed took over, co-opting his control.
It sprang from his mind like a viper, sending a powerful strand ten times thicker and more poignant than anything he had prepared. It tried to break its target, shattering the mind that had rejected it like an eggshell. But it met resistance and scrabbled against that barrier that wouldn’t give.
He fought to take back control from the Seed, guide it more carefully rather than waste its energy against an unknown shield. But as he struggled to reason with it, a notification popped into his vision, surprising him into giving up the struggle.
New item acquired — [Progenitor’s Mantle]!
An item description filled his mind, distracting him from the battle around him.
[Progenitor’s Mantle][Unique][Earth-based Item (Planet #10773724717)]
Rank: 0
Experience: 0/10,000
Traits:
- Only a Matter of Time I
- You Think Your Shit Don’t Stink I (Same Race)
- Your Shit Really Don’t Stink I
- Your Shit Really Don’t Stink II
- Your Shit Really Don’t Stink III
- Keen Eye I
- Sound of Mind I
Abilities:
- [Analysis I]
Status: Equipped (Back slot)
Bearer: Craig Allen, Prime of Earth (Local rank: #2 — Co-Integrated Rank: #2)
“What the fuck?” he muttered.
A weight settled around his neck, the snap of cloth in the wind drawing his eye to his back.
A familiar red cape hung there and his eyes went wide. Before he could wrap his head around the implications of that cape on his back, the Seed began to buck in his mind, drawing his attention to one of the roots anchored into his thralls.
The thickest root—and the most tenuous. Beneath his feet, the Alpha faltered, its body vibrating.
No. No!
For once, the Seed and Craig worked in harmony, focusing all their attention on re-anchoring that root inside of the Alpha’s mind. But there was something wrong with his power. It felt…weaker, dimmed. There was no reason for it, his power had only grown as he had leveled. Every level had brought him more stat points, solidifying his control through his unfettered Charisma.
With a horrifying thought, he pulled open his Status Sheet and stared at his most powerful stat.
Charisma: 246 (50% effectiveness) = 123
While he stared at his halved power, a snapping sound echoed in his mind.
The Alpha had broken free from the Seed’s control…