Chapter 66: Remembrance
Friday, April 14th, 10:30 AM
Dungeon Ciara
The President stood on top of the Crow’s Nest beside Joe, Mike, Siobhán, and Joy. Above them, a massive US flag stood at half-mast.
“My fellow Americans, today, we honor the memory of our fallen. Mothers, daughters, fathers, sons, siblings, aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, and dear friends—all slain with malicious intent. By our best estimate, approximately 227 million Americans have died over the last month, with more than 140 million estimated to have lost their lives in the initial strike alone.”
President Thomas narrowed his eyes.
“Millions died in the weeks after the bombs from injuries and lack of medication. More are lost each day as radiation breaks down bodies, people succumb to diseases that are running rampant for lack of sanitation, and as food supplies run out.”
He swept his gaze over the crowd and swallowed.
“Two more were lost three days ago. A pair whom many of you knew personally—have disappeared without a trace. They were attacked by people who had gained powers, though those traitors have been brought to justice. At this time, we know too little about magic to be certain what has happened to them, or whether they are still alive.”
Mike’s entire face was tight as he glared straight ahead beside the President.
I felt horrible for him, but I still couldn’t sense the couple anywhere.
“Michael Elliott and Rihelah Najibi helped keep many of you safe. They rendered aid to the sick and dying from the flotilla that sailed from Seattle, assisting the exceptional healing of Gunnery Sergeant Joe Schimpf. They stood their ground against terrorists who sought to destroy our way of life.”
The President rested his hand on Mike’s shoulder, and Mike stiffened.
“Michael and Rihelah were secretly in love since childhood. They shared thirteen days as a couple before they were stolen away from their family, their friends, and their nation.”
President Thomas tilted his head forward and glared as hard as Mike beside him.
“The One World Order is responsible for their disappearance, and, we believe, for the entire war. The blood of all our loved ones—the blood of all those slain around the entire globe—is on their hands.”
His frown darkened. The President’s eyes grew hard.
“Those terrorists declared war on every nation. Following reports relayed to our carrier fleets in the Western Pacific, we know that China, Japan, Korea, and Russia have been under heavy attack from them as well—with the same brutal tactics they’ve employed here.”
The crowd was deathly silent as he paused for a moment.
“We also have reason to believe they acquired launch codes in one of the smaller nuclear-armed nations and, through a network of traitors in that country’s military, sparked the global nuclear war we are now struggling to recover from.”
The silence was broken as stony-faced people whispered and muttered to one another.
“It makes little sense, since all nuclear-armed nations had safeguards in place that should have made such a thing all but impossible, and yet, it happened.”
President Thomas coughed lightly and adjusted his windbreaker.
“Even worse, we realized too late that the One World Order terrorists had early warning of the attack—a warning which, like many they’d sent via the internet before, we assumed to be a hoax.”
The President shook his head as he spoke.
“The cowards hid in basements and other shelters, or fled from cities, hiding away like cowards before rising up like locusts after the dust settled to attack innocent civilians.”
“How could you let this happen?” a woman asked, eliciting a shouting match that lasted almost a minute before the crowd quieted to hear his response.
“We didn’t recognize the signs. Things were presented in a way that mirrored average internet trolls rather than violent criminals or terrorists. Use of Artificial Intelligence is assumed to have been responsible for their ability to operate under the radar at such a massive scale without alerting us that something was wrong.”
President Thomas gritted his teeth.
“Either that, or magic came to Earth earlier than we realized.”
Several angry faces in the crowd grew thoughtful at those words.
“The nations of the world believed the One World Order was another flash-in-the-pan extremist movement. Clearly, we were wrong. They took every developed nation by surprise with this attack.”
I hear some of you calling for action against other nations, but even those who have long been our competitors haven’t fired a single shot in our direction since the dust settled on March sixth. All communications from other countries are pleas for help against this new enemy as we try to put the pieces of our world back together. To our knowledge, every nation is effectively crippled and under attack by the One World Order.”
The crowd was silent again.
“I tell you this not to drive you to despair, but to call each one of you to action—to stand with us against this common foe.”
“These terrorists desire the complete destruction of all but their perverted ideology—that closely resembles the feudal system of the dark ages. The One World Order’s goal is to effectively bring about a second dark age.”
The President’s lips tightened.
“The One World Order terrorists kidnap women and young girls, forcing them into slave harems. Men or boys who refuse to swear allegiance to them are murdered on the spot.”
“My God, that’s genocide.” A woman in the crowd covered her mouth after she spoke.
“That’s exactly what it is. These are the actions of monsters in human bodies.”
Determination shone in the President’s eyes.
“Our military is working hard to protect our shores and to eliminate these terrorists. But we need your help. To that end, and in light of our ongoing state of emergency, I have instituted the draft. All able-bodied men between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five are required to report to the tents on the beach behind me, by noon today.”
The crowd grumbled, with more than a few scowls on the faces of parents holding young children while expletives were thrown about.
“Exemptions will be made for logical cases like single parents. We’re not taking you away from your kids. Anyone else, male or female, between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five is welcome to volunteer.”
The President looked the crowd over.
“Things have changed. The world has changed. Magic is real, and it’s affecting everything. Your training will be hard, but you will acquire strength and power like nothing Earth has seen before. The Adventurers Guild will—”
Two shots rang out, and the President was knocked back.
Mike stepped in front of him while Joe knelt to send glowing light through the President’s body and Secret Service agents shielded him from all sides.
I spotted the shooters running away beside my initial row of houses. A pair in military combat uniforms.
[Found them. They’re trying to escape past the original houses. They won’t get far.]
My newer, larger Devilflies had been waiting atop the houses and the Crow’s Nest. Four of them swooped down and orbited their feet.
Tripped by the silk, both tasted pavement as their weapons clattered away. They disappeared from view, but I kept my Devilflies orbiting their prone bodies. Silk continued to trail around something as my minions flew.
Meanwhile, Joe approached like a runaway train with hundreds of marines and more than a dozen agents following in his wake.
The attackers had no way of hiding, since my Devilflies didn’t stop wrapping them up until Joe arrived.
When Joe moved them, their strange hiding skill became useless.
Following a bit of interrogation by the President, it turned out the pair were UCSC students who’d received magic classes that allowed them to avoid detection unless they broke cover to run. They wore stolen uniforms, and were members of the One World Order.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Of course, the shooters had no way of knowing the President was immortal and had been wearing a bullet-proof vest reinforced by Nita’s silk. He was knocked back and bruised by the rifle rounds, but was otherwise unharmed, even before Joe healed him.
The traitors were hauled into my Dungeon by marines, screaming to proclaim their innocence as the President returned to the Crow’s Nest roof to finish speaking. After they were out of sight from the crowd, the guilty parties were beheaded with a sword and I absorbed the bodies.
“Apologies for the interruption. We had a pair of traitors in our midst. Turns out, they weren’t too bright.” He smiled and shrugged.
The crowd chuckled nervously.
“These things will keep happening until we get a handle on our world once more. As I was saying… alongside the newly-formed Adventurers Guild, we will help oversee and plan Dungeon delves so that there are fewer casualties, ensuring that our population can grow stronger, together.” President Thomas gestured at the area inside the walls.
“The world was ravaged and our lives are forever changed. We live in trying times, but it is the unbreakable spirit of survivors like you that will see us through the challenges ahead.”
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Once the President finished speaking, the hundreds of marines who shot and killed Siobhán, Joy, my pups, and the cats were brought into formation inside the courtyard of one of the massive barracks that was finished the day before.
President Thomas and Colonel Hart vetted the marines in groups of five, and found that, while many were known to have past trauma or other issues that many people experience, every single one was loyal.
After each group had been questioned, they were told the means by which Siobhán, Joy, the dogs, and cats had come back to life.
All but twelve of them, after hearing what their victims had done for the country, offered to make amends. Those who didn’t make that offer appeared uncomfortable and too ashamed to face what they’d done.
After those marines had gathered at attention in the barracks courtyard, Siobhán and Joy came to greet them. Both women looked down as they walked out to stand beside Mike.
Most of the marines who were present wore tight expressions at the sight of them, and Joy froze, gripping Siobhán’s hand tight enough that she yelped.
“You don’t have to do this,” Mike said gently.
“No, I need to.” Siobhán shook her hand out as she glanced at Joy and swallowed. “We need to. It’s not like they shot us out of malice. We all came back to life, and they were just doing their jobs.”
Placing a hand against each of the women’s shoulders, Mike said, “I appreciate it, and so will they.”
Mike bellowed loud enough to shake the courtyard. “Listen up, marines! These women are Siobhán Killarney and Joy Peterson, the two who were shot and killed under bad orders just three days ago. We’ve had this discussion, so you know the President’s stance on this incident. Now, listen carefully. Magic is a hell of a thing, and what we’ve all witnessed is nothing short of a God-damned miracle. But I want you all to remember that resurrection is only possible when the ability to return to life is acquired before a person dies.”
He paused to stare at them.
“Now, I want all eyes on this young lady. She will explain why they came out here today.” Mike touched Siobhán’s shoulder, then stepped back to give her the floor.
Trembling, Siobhán raised her voice. “Marines! We know you were just following orders. I won’t lie. I was scared and confused when… Well, you all know what happened. But you were manipulated by someone with mind magic. Even Colonel Hart was affected. You did your duty and followed orders—like you were supposed to.”
Joy kept looking down. “Uh, yeah. What she said.”
Siobhán managed a smile and took Joy’s arm. “Anyway, we want you to know we’re mad at the source of those bad orders, not the marines who did what you were trained for.”
Her forehead wrinkled and Siobhán leaked a couple of tears before wiping them away.
“I’m glad none of you died, because every human life is precious, and you wouldn’t have come back like we did.” She sniffled. “The Dungeon is an old friend of mine, and I’m grateful that she spared you all.”
Quite a few marines in the formation seemed to be stifling frowns as some nodded slowly.
“Thank you, Miss Killarney,” said Mike.
“You heard the lady, marines. It’s water under the bridge for these two, and the animals as well.”
Colonel Hart walked out while Mike was talking.
Hart said, “Marines, do I have your full attention?”
“Sir, yes sir!”
“You’ve all been briefed on the Dungeon—on who she used to be, and what she is now. The survival of not only our nation, but our entire world depends on her.”
“Your orders regarding these women, dogs, and cats are as follows; unless you witness them attacking innocent people, as of this moment, we have standing orders from the Commander-in-Chief never to harm them. In the event that something does happen—which is possible, given the existence of magic, you are to restrain first and use deadly force only as a last resort. The Dungeon is our ally, and we need to keep it that way. Do I make myself clear?”
“Sir, yes sir!”
The colonel glanced at Siobhán and Joy. “Thank you, ladies.”
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It was decided that killing Tony and allowing him to revive would be the height of stupidity. As such, he’d been moved by Joe to a new holding cell deep below the basement, far from human contact. He was locked behind four infused steel gates crafted by Mike. Each of those was sturdy enough that even Joe couldn’t break through with his overpowering strength.
Tony was still wrapped in silk and had been lashed to the wall, with a pair of Canopy Crawlers to act as guards. Initially, I had my spiders bring food for him and trickled water over his face so that he could drink, but the man refused.
To prevent Tony fasting to death or dying of thirst, he was fitted with an IV that Joe recharged three times per day. Joe never said a word, nor did he strike or otherwise harm Tony. He just stared him down with an icy gaze.
Since Tony refused to eat and I had no desire to hear the traitor’s complaints, I had my spiders stitch his mouth shut with glue and silk. Once in a while, he’d groan or hiss through his nose, but for the most part, I was able to ignore his existence.
President Thomas asked that the military brass be allowed to sleep in the huge room vacated by Tony and Karen, and, having discovered that they were trustworthy via his skill, I agreed.
But when a request came from Admiral Winberg for them to split up so that half could take the room Michael and Rihelah had shared, I flatly refused. Only my girls, the cats, Mike, Joe, Joy, and Siobhán were allowed in there.
Mike hadn’t slept since Michael and Rihelah disappeared, though my girls remained by his side most of the time. He frequently left his room to check theirs at night, and my heart ached every time I saw him deflate. His chest heaved as he stifled sobs while gazing at their empty bed, still disheveled from the last time they’d used it.
Mike had prayed to Auronox thousands of times, but so far, there was no reply.
Despite the effort I’d made to keep my loved ones safe, my beans were down to two. It hurt that I couldn’t even cry, and I longed to embrace Mike so that we could grieve together.
Now, more than ever, I missed my body.
What’s more, I worried that more of my residents might disappear as a result of some unknown magic. But they forced themselves out of bed each day. Each of them worked hard despite their grief, just as I did.
My Monterey falcons had standing orders to watch for Karen. They circled overhead, ready to dive-bomb the woman and drive their sharp talons into her eye sockets as soon as she was spotted. I also made them avoid the helicopters that came and went as supplies and troops were flown in from elsewhere.
In the past two days, at the urging of President Thomas, I’d sent out tunnels to claim as much of the surrounding area as possible. His reasons were the same as mine—to help clean up the mess, to locate survivors and traitors, and to speed the environment’s recovery.
I met resistance around two hundred kilometers away to the north—the same feeling as when I tried to dig deeper than my bottom floor was allowed.
Making use of tiny minion tunnels only large enough for mice, I spread my influence from north of Bodega Bay around Woodland, then southwest of Folsom in an arc through the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. I claimed Sutter Creek and Twain Harte, then south through Fresno and down to the southwest, just north of Morro Bay.
All told, I’d outlined a rough half-circle encompassing an area of approximately 24,000 square kilometers. That said, actually claiming that much area could take months or even years, depending on how much time I could dedicate to it.
Moving along the major highways, I claimed parts of the ruins of San Francisco and the rest of the Bay Area, the Napa Valley, Sacramento, Stockton, Modesto, Turlock, and other cities along Highway 99 down to Fresno.
Where I saw large groups of humans, I got as close as I could to listen in.
The first problem I found was Pacifica, south of San Francisco. The town had been overrun with One World Order traitors who were using one of the local schools as a breeding center. The horrors occurring in that place were unconscionable.
Sick bastards! I widened the primary minion tunnel, sending twenty of my original Devilflies carrying Reaper spiders, with my Murder hornets close behind.
I alerted President Thomas, who coordinated with me to send a late-night raid by helicopter after my Devilflies had arrived and waited inside the tunnels. Reaper spiders, with their superior night-vision, crept out and hid in the shadows.
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Floors: 4
Minions: 411/480
Residents: 12/18
Denizens: 1.35M
Traps: 10/20