"The crusher sent the correct ID codes." The com-officer reported, continuing to tap on the keyboard non-stop.
"Get them on the line." The commandant demanded, sitting in her chair and taking a sip of coffee.
They were sitting in the command center, the armored, nine-story building. Placed in front of the massive gates, they were the heart of Bonafell. The sandstorm is already starting its rage, hitting furiously against the armored windows. In an hour, even those will have to be closed, and the guards on the wall will have to take cover in bunkers, leaving the town blind.
Soultakers rarely build tall buildings, preferring to keep their towns hidden behind the armored walls that help them endure sandstorms’ howling hits. But with the introduction of vehicles like crushers, a new type of command center became needed, one that could both repair and communicate with such behemoths over long distances. And this is why the command tower is now towering over the rough-hewn buildings beneath.
Bonafell was the town of gray, only ever changing its color during and shortly after a sandstorm. Its buildings were made of solid concrete with thin seams instead of proper windows. Only a few families owned their own personal apartments, even the mayor and the commandant both lived in apartments in three-story-tall, long buildings that were built in the shape of a rectangle. This was Jekaterina's decree: All citizens, great and small, must interact with one another. The grandiose priests’ mansions were either reduced to a pile of rubble or retooled to serve as hospitals, schools, or public markets.
Bonafell was not a rich town before the war. It had a single cinema that showed the newest films from Iterna. The downside was that you had to make reservations at least a month in advance to get there. The town had two hospitals that provided adequate medical care if the people had the money. After the war started, Jekaterina kept funding free healthcare for all citizens, paying from the country’s treasury. There were eight factories that reworked materials arriving from the mines into suitable materials to support the Soultakers’ military.
And of course, there were citizens. A mix of former slaves, free people who came from other regions, mutants, former mercenaries, and former soultakers. In the first years after Jekaterina took the throne, there were occasionally fights here and there when the former slaves wanted to take out their anger on their former masters. Some people died. But years passed and wounds slowly began to heal, bringing stability and unity to Bonafell’s every corner. Amends were made, former slaves were assisted in starting new lives, and everyone eventually went along. Recently, only mutants were grumbling, angry that they were not allowed into the military. The commandant and mayor always dismissed their requests. Allowing the muties into the military? Madness. Even Jekaterina never trusted them this much.
The city was surrounded by a great wall, providing some measure of protection during the sandstorms. Atop this wall were great turrets, capable of leaving holes in sand reapers with relative ease. Soultakers could not have been as advanced as the Bento Tribe, nor were they as numerous as the Regulators, but they always protected their own.
"Jericho, is that you?" The commandant asked, frowning in irritation because of the blur on the terminal's display. The damned sandstorm was already interfering with their communications, making it impossible to see the speaker.
"Who else do you think it can be? A fairy godmother? Or maybe the Sun God, who somehow got his paws on the crusher?" An annoyed voice came from the dynamics. The commandant rolled her eyes. This is what they get for allowing males to take the command positions. "Open the gates, our shield is no longer working, and we have holes in our armor!"
"What happened?"
"The whole operation went to shit, that’s what happened. Because of King's precious hero boy's incompetence, half of my soldiers were killed in an ambush, and later we had to fight against the boarding party and flee from their artillery for a few days. The crusher is nearly out of fuel, we have almost no ammunition, and of course we are bringing gifts. The wounded. Is that all, commandant, or should I beg to be allowed in and to be allowed to save one of our most precious vehicles!"
The commandant nodded to the officers, allowing them to open the massive main gates. Jericho’s words were in line with what the two wounded soldiers reported to her. One soultaker was nearly dead and had to be placed in emergency care, while the other reported about the ambush and lost contact with the crusher.
The massive steel door leading into the city started to slide aside. Sirens wailed through the half-empty streets, announcing that the main gates were being opened and that all citizens should seek refuge in safehouses. All, poor and rich, were forcibly herded into one of the three major safehouses in the city, none, from beggar to factory owner, was allowed to stay inside the houses or on the street. Buildings usually endure sandstorms. "Usually" was the word. Sometimes a roof would crack, killing the people inside with pieces of concrete or slamming them against the walls. The cattle were herded in the massive underground hangar. Safe for a skeleton garrison on walls, a few patrols on the street, some medics in the hospital who watched over the most severe patients, and people in the command center, no one was present on the streets or in the houses.
Seeing how the crusher moved inside, the commandant felt a tingle of relief. She hid it, throwing the black cape over the throne, and gestured for one of the operators to come to her dais. Sending the man to refill her cup, she smiled.
Jericho was an asshole, true. But he was a loyal asshole, and Bonafell was undermanned. Even if he only brings back a hundred soldiers, she will be able to rotate the troops, giving the soldiers a chance to rest rather than mercilessly leaving them on the walls until Jekaterina arrives with reinforcements.
The crusher moved onto a gigantic square next to the command center, and the commandant finally saw the extensive damage on its hull. The armor plates on various levels were either torn apart by explosions or simply pulled out by some unknown force. Several turrets were missing. The spherical bubbles at the outer hull, the projectors that created the shield, were cracked. The crew indeed had to enter combat. If not for the identification codes and Jericho’s voice, the commandant would have never…
She jumped off her throne, seeing a crimson beam striking from within the crusher and slicing off the legs of a bento.
****
"Begin the mission." Aranea commanded, spitting out the black dot that morphed her voice.
She watched as the wolfkins, led by Sonya, poured from the crusher in a torrent of black river, swarming the few guards and terrifying the engineers in their path. Soultakers, clad in silver-colored power armors and black long coats, were thrown on the ground. Armor-piercing needles came from the wolfkins’ wrists, and the soldiers struck at the opponents’ necks, injecting them with sedatives.
At least two out of a dozen enemy soldiers died. One wolfkin got overly eager and speared his foe all the way to her brain. Another man suffered a heart attack, managing to say the word ‘Surrender’ before the sedatives worked and his heart stopped. Unnecessary deaths occurred, but there was only one way to safely take down the Old Guard. Bentos were simply taken apart, their natural limbs were left untouched, while their artificial limbs were pulled out of their sockets, leaving the cyborgs helplessly thrashing on the ground. The green recruits and engineers were spared the harsh treatment, only a few of them ended up with broken bones.
The foes fired at the wolfkins, the bullets ricocheted off their power armors, leaving mere scratches. Sonya led her pack onward, leaving prisoners in Kate’s care. She never stopped, not once, her pack always moving, becoming smaller as they poured into hangars, taking down foes before they could get to the heavy vehicles. One of the enemy snipers took aim at Sonya, only to be brought to the ground by a wolfkin with augmented feet. Sonya gave a quick nod of appreciation to her second-in-command, moving onward to secure hangars.
Aranea was constantly watching the monitors before her, noticing the enemies’ movements, correcting the assault routes of the pack, snarling at them when they were going too rough, and giving stingy praise for the correct choice of actions. At her command, the drones were unleashed, mapping the surroundings even faster. The entire Janine’s pack, everyone who was still in action, four hundred and sixty-eight wolfkins, were in the field today. Even attacking this town from the front, they would have taken it. Unleashed from within, it was only a matter of time and lives before this place will be reclaimed.
Tiny led her pack from the other side of the crusher, opening fire at the turrets on the wall. The missiles of her pack were joined by a fire of turrets, Gin, Kaleb, and a few other wolfkins were operating them from the command center, leaving gaping holes in the gigantic defense installations, covering Tiny’s pack as they charged toward the wall’s foundation, climbing up to deal with the enemies there.
All these people. Aranea looked at the turrets’ smoldering ruins. Chances are, they lived here. They almost certainly have families and children here. How… How will I justify this? Oh, sorry, your daddy or mommy got in the way of saving humanity. Too bad, so sad.
No, her decision about not caring about the lives of the enemies on the wall was a correct one. Even after seeing how a missile hit the turret, throwing the soldiers off the wall to their deaths, Aranea was certain of this. The turrets would make short work of the crusher. Using the element of surprise to hit them from behind, where their armor was thinner, was logical. A single turret’s shell would have left behind several dead wolfkins.
All of this was true. A flash colored both of Aranea’s eyes crimson when a missile hit an entrance hatch leading into the turret. The metal door was shattered, and fire and the shockwave of the special anti-bunker missile went inward, searing the turret’s inside with fire and cooking anyone within alive.
So much for being the good guys in this war. Soultakers saved me, spared me, treated our wounds, and this is how I repay the debt.
Aranea shook her head, enduring a whipping flash of fear from Alpha. Even sitting on the throne placed on the dais in the middle of the crusher’s command center, Aranea was still smaller than Alpha by a head. The warlord stood nearby, holding an axe over her shoulder and looking at the wolfkins typing at the keyboard with a mix of satisfied pride and annoyance.
"Alpha, if you have time to annoy me with these childish games, please concentrate the fear on the wall behind us," Aranea cursed silently, trying to sit more comfortably. She put the helmet back on to hide her grimace of pain. Her ribs still hurt. Sonya was the first to see it, and Leila outright threatened to challenge Aranea if the wolf hag insisted on joining the combat in person. Now she was stuck in the crusher, while her people risked their lives out there, "Wolf hag Leila! Prepare to start the final part."
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"I could have covered the entire city in fear."
"And risk panic among the civilians? Alpha, we came to bring them back to humanity, not to cause a bloodbath." Aranea deliberately refused to use the warlord’s rank. If she wants to pretend to be her subordinate, Aranea will play along.
"You are approaching the situation too softly," The fear changed the direction, making Gin, who was sitting in its path, jump up. "We should attack head-on, competing with each other in order to find out who can score more kills."
Is she testing me? Aranea glanced at the warlord. It was hard to tell. Alpha was wearing no power, standing perfectly still like a white statue draped in a crimson leather overcoat. Alpha was the creator of the Omega team, the pack that was famous for taking down even the toughest places with minimum losses. Why would someone like her be annoyed at Aranea’s actions?
"What good is taking down a town, if everyone within hates us?"
"Hate. A curious word. What will they think for us right now?" Alpha, turned to look at the wolf hag. "No, Aranea. They will hate. And it is natural, can we blame them? No. But if we act strongly and swiftly, if we instill enough fear…" The warlord turned to look at the screens before the throne, showing the advance.
"Through horror, we will just fuel the pyre of hate. And this pyre will one day consume us. No, I refuse to feed this beast any more than needed." Aranea felt her heart sink upon seeing how a gigantic member of the heavy assault team rose before doors leading into the enemy’s HQ.
The massive cyborg hid behind one of the pillars leading inside, allowing it to remain undetected. The bento actually powered down all his systems, waiting for the wolfkins to come closer before revealing herself, announcing her presence with a war cry. Twin massive gatling guns screamed, showering the advancing soldiers with a hail of bullets, leaving holes in the wolfkins. One male fell, dead in an instant, as two bullets pierced the lenses of his helmet with pinpoint accuracy. Another warrior lost her arm. Two more warriors received injuries to their throats, one of the injuries was fatal, and the warrior died with her windpipe and neck shattered. Lasers came from the enemy’s jaw, hitting a scout in the knee and leaving her lying before the bento. The cyborg put one leg on her body but refrained from crushing the wolfkin.
Leila’s pack advanced without their wolf hag. Aranea’s paws found her rail gun, preparing to fire through the crusher’s screens if needed. She shouted commands, and to her surprise, Leila’s original pack, five wolfkins, who were trained by her, followed the orders to the letter, taking charge over others and spreading the group in a wide arc. The energy weapons spoke, melting the gatling gun’s barrels. More and more shots came from the wolfkins, shattering the enemy’s jaw and pushing the cyborg back. The bento’s chest opened, firing forward several thick wires.
They wrapped themselves around two wolfkins, shattering their arms, before being sliced by coordinated fire from the pack. The bento’s body looked around, the feeling of nervousness could be felt in her steel body while she held down the wounded scout. Leila’s pack shouted demands for surrender, and the cyborg agreed to return the scout in exchange for mercy for the guards and personnel behind her.
Alpha frowned, seeing how the cyborg stepped back, ready to meet her fate. Instead of destroying the brain case, the wolfkins started cutting off the precious armored container, trying their best not to harm the person. One group charged inside the building, taking down the lightly armed analog of the Soultakers MP and frightened engineers without killing any of them, while the other group tended to the wounds of the fallen.
"Your soldiers," Alpha came to the window, looking down, "They are no Alpha team, true. They do not have Janine’s rage, but… Male or female, they cooperate, cover each other, and follow orders to the letter," Alpha sniffed the air, " They even spared those who killed their comrades. Such restraint is... acceptable."
"Janine taught us well. We use our strong sides to secure a better future for the humankind," Aranea told her, sending new orders for Leila to begin her own mission. "This is why we show restraint. By the Dynast’s orders, we must bring a new, better world to all, our foes included. And we can’t do that if they are dead." Aranea fell silent, wanting to say that creating hundreds more Araneas was unneeded. Aranea Wintersong had a full right to a happy life. And Aranea will try to spare as many kids as she can from her fate.
Aranea was not unneeded. It was the hardest thing to admit. She was not some horrible monster, undeserving of existence. She met some wonderful people in her life, many of whom saved her life, some of whom she managed to help. Aranea of the Wolf Tribe was needed, she had the duty to reform the Tribe no matter how long it will take, she had the duty to save the lives of those under her command; and she had the duty to limit the horrors of war where she could.
The vengeance was denied to her, but the halfbreed found happiness and some semblance of peace nonetheless. Aranea learned that she must live. Live for the ones who replaced her parents, live for her friends, and… for herself.
But… She also wanted Aranea Wintersong to live. To see this stupid, arrogant, and smug girl make her own silly mistakes, to bring happiness to her family and friends, to… To make her own way, unbothered by the weight of the duty. to be... Alive, rather than buried beneath the rubble of countless scars, broken dreams, and dead people burdening her conscience.
Not every dream is meant to be true. I can’t change the past, but I can try to shape the future.
"We will see. Carry on, Aranea the Coward, the trial continues," Alpha walked past her, going to the doors leading outside. For a split second, the halfbreed thought Alpha had read her mind: "That change that you want to bring about. Without fully releasing your power, you will never bring about the change you want."
She still on about that. There was merit to the warlord’s words. The halfbreed must accept herself fully one day... One day, she will overcome her fear fully.
"Tiny, the turret on the west side!" Aranea snapped from her brooding, noticing how the turret on the opposite side of the town started turning toward them.
"Can’t get to it in time! We have another heavy team member before us!" Tiny sent the reply, and Aranea heard the sound of an explosion.
"And he is pissed!" Yuki laughed, "Sly, to the left, I’ll lead the right! Let’s crush the bastard!"
"Got it," Aranea stopped herself from being focused on the gigantic steel figure on the wall. Tiny and her pack had the situation under control, "Alpha. We need your assistance. Take the turret down, lethal force is allowed."
"Finally." Alpha replied, climbing on top of the control tower.
The warlord took the axe from her shoulder, throwing it up and catching it like a knife with her right paw. Her claws closed around the shaft, the muscles on her arm bulged, forcing veins to reappear on the surface, thick like iron ropes. Alpha moved her right arm back and threw the axe.
The Taleteller flew faster than any bullet on the battlefield, save for the laser beams. In a blink of an eye, it covered the entire town, cleaving through the gigantic turret's main cannon and flying far behind the town, disappearing in the swirling clouds.
The turret was already disabled, but the crew inside had no chance to survive. The shockwave from the throw came next, creating cracks on the houses’ roofs. The propelled forward air struck the turret with far greater force than most hurricanes, sending the ruined cannon within the steel bulk and tearing the tank-sized turret off the wall, causing it to fall away from the wall and causing an explosion of sand and stone beneath.
"Janine’s axe!" Kaleb shouted over the communications.
"Relax, male. We will pick it later. Ravager once used it to knock out a low-orbit satellite," Alpha chuckled. "You should have seen Janine then. Panicking like a cub about losing her favorite toy. We all had to search for hours before we found it. Can I join the fun now?" The warlord inquired.
"No, Leila will take care of the rest." Aranea replied, and the armored form flew above the warlord, held in the air not with her wings, but with the power of her jetpack.
****
The commandant jumped away from her throne when a winged armored form crashed through the reinforced window like it was a paper tissue. The woman grabbed silver pistols at her belt, firing directly in the space between the collar and the lower jaw. The strange creature took a step back, saying nothing, and charged at the woman, clearly unhurt by any of her shots.
The soultaker fired twice more, only for the being to duck beneath the shots and hit forward with the armored wings, beating the pistols away from the woman’s hands.
"Code red! Six-eight-zero!" The soultaker shouted the self-destruction sequence, dooming herself and all operators. "I surrender…"
She felt her heart racing, followed by immense pain, indicating that the artificial stroke was about to begin. Before she could finish the sentence, the helmet of the winged creature slid to the back, revealing a woman-like face covered by pale pink scales. Her snake-like eyes glowed, and the light fell on the commandant, dragging her…
The commandant blinked, looking around in surprise. She was in a rather small room. The walls were covered in posters of various singers, and there was a single spacious bed in the corner, covered in black sheets. The room had no windows, and the only light was coming from a round lamp on the ceiling. A single door led out of the room, locked by countless locks.
"Phew, managed to get you in time," A being of horrors said, appearing out of thin air and sitting on the bed. She had a long tail protruding from the middle of her back, two long black wings, one half torn, were spread wide before closing in behind her back. The being's voice was female. Instead of skin, she had pinkish scales and short hair. "Name’s Leila. Welcome to my mind. It is a bit messy here, but I manage to get by."
"I have no idea what you are planning to do…" The soultaker looked around in panic. The knife and a grenade were missing from her belt, along with another knife in her sleeve, "This… illusion won’t save you. In ten seconds…"
"Ah, but time flows differently here. "A second out there could be a year here," Leila smiled warmly, standing up, and headphones appeared in her clawed hand. "Wanna listen to some rock? Maybe classic? No? Oh, well, let’s see who you are."
A bookcase appeared behind the devil, and the woman picked up a book with a blue cover from it, reading from it.
"The high priestess’ daughter… Always had a soft spot for slaves and attempted to help them in secret...One day helped a slave named Jekaterina escape and was…"
The soultaker felt a whipping hit across her back and screamed in pain, reaching underneath her cape. Another hit followed, this was a hit made with a whip littered with salt. She remembered this feeling when her mother took her to the stones, tying her up and leaving her lying face down. The jade mask was hiding her mother’s face, while the whip tore at her skin again and…
"Oh, sorry!" The demon quickly closed the book, while the commandant leaned against the wall, breathing madly, "I was not aware that your memories were so vibrant. It’s all because we are connected. If you want to, I can share some good memories about a massage…"
"Stay away from me, fiend!" The commandant shouted, clawing at the door, "Lady Jekaterina spared me. After everything my mother had done, Jekaterina gave me full pardon and let me stay. No matter what cursed tricks you will use, I will never betray my people!"
"No tricks!" Leila raised her hands, keeping a distance in an almost mocking attempt to calm down the soultaker, "Listen, I can pull the code to turn off the self-destruction out of your mind by force. But in doing so, you might actually suffer a stroke. I can’t really save you, stop the explosion, and keep us in this room at the same time. Not that skilled yet. Not if you're not willing to assist me."
"Then kill me and be done with this torture!"
"Refuse to do, and I am sorry about the pain. I saw a bit of your memories. You have kids, right? Your memories and worries about them are the most potent of all."
"Leave them out of this, fiend! They are in Iterna, you will never get them!"
"Aw, a shame. I love playing with little ones," The winged devil walked around the room, thinking, before closing in on the scared woman, "Eh, anyway, I refuse to let you die and leave your kids without their loving mom. Look in me and see what I saw," The devil’s figure opened up, a seam ran from her forehead all the way to between her legs, opening the body like a bag. "See what I saw and learned about this war," Leila said, her voice strangely calm and distant. "See and judge for yourself if it is your duty before your people and Jekaterina to live and preserve the way of your people and their lives."
And light engulfed the horrified commandant. She felt someone taking her gently by the hand and leading her on, from scene to scene, showing what the half-wyrm Leila knew.
****
Aranea looked at the enemy’s HQ, feeling the sweat run down her brow. She heard how the enemy shouted the self-destruction sequence and now dreaded seeing the explosion that might hurt or even outright kill her friend. The seconds stretched, and the halfbreed saw how the enemy leader straightened herself, shouting code to turn off the destruction. The woman looked at the floor before giving the order to surrender to the reclaimers.