Novels2Search
Eyeball - Titanslayer
Dark Ascension - 13 - Apologies - The Trap

Dark Ascension - 13 - Apologies - The Trap

Cobalt and Kin returned from the darkness without a problem; and for a moment, Emerald wrapped around his side, smiling... even as she was ready to send a burst of firey death down the hole if some machines should start climbing out.

"Just a bit, Emerald. The doc over there wanted to chat, and... I think he's the one that healed me over in the desert."

She nodded. "Sure, sure. Don't take too long, though. I think the general is looking for you."

When Eyeball returned to the tent, the darkness was just as startling as the first time... but even more startling was the fact that the man seemed to be plucking chickens from cages, killing them, and then tossing them into the bin... how many he'd done before Eyeball arrived was an unknown; but once he stopped, he very carefully began sanitizing his hands.. and looked up at Eyeball.

"You know me, though you don't know where from, yes?"

"...Yes... sir." Somehow, despite no longer being in the military, it seemed appropriate. "I've seen your face before."

"Hmph. Well. You weren't conscious when I healed you, so it wasn't then." He walked up to Eyeball, and extended a hand. "You can call me the Shadow Master. Am I to understand you're responsible for all this? The machine army?"

Eyeball shook his head.... but still took the man's hand, shaking firmly. "No, sir. I... inadvertently prevented it from being opened in a tech lab filled with unarmed scientists on the cost, and instead in a warehouse full of armed guards. For what good that did. A single machine escaped, I almost caught it... and Spike stopped me. The only person truly responsible is whoever built it."

He released Eyeball's hand, and walked over to a nearby soldier. His shirt was off, blood dried onto his skin; but he looked intact. "Hmm. So you want to blame Spike for this?"

"Of course not. If I were Spike, in his position, I wouldn't have believed me, without some sort of corroboration from an outside source. Just the same way I can't blame myself for not knowing that the criminal organization I was liberating slaves from was carrying the most dangerous box on the planet."

He stopped. "..Liberating slaves?"

"Oh, yeah. Whole bunch of em, russian, african, all sorts, forced to work at gunpoint. One of the slaves managed to get the word out, asking for help; he was a brother of one of the people on my team. And, well. That might have been enough to get me out there, but the idea of both freeing slaves and looting a cargo ship run by slavers to make some cash?"

"And what did you do with these slaves after?"

Eyeball paused. Why was he being so open with this man? Somehow he just seemed like an old friend, the friendly uncle he'd always known, despite his grim, dour appearance. "Some of em wanted to go home, so I used a cut of the loot to pay their way. Others wanted to stay, so I got them work here... or, well, north of the border."

A long sigh. "You make things difficult, mister Bennet. I was prepared to withdraw my gift, and when I sensed it, that of my grandson. Every drop of life force I can spare is good for healing these men and women fighting for our country. But... We've given you too much. Part of you is now part of us, and whoever you were before has changed in a fundamental way."

The Shadow Master focused on Eyeball. "When I first gained my powers, I was in a concentration camp. I could drain the life force of others to strengthen myself so long as I was in darkness. Healing others with it would come much, much later. I am a Romani. A Gypsy; despised by the Nazis simply for existing. The man I am today was created in darkness. I spent the first year with my powers as a mass-murdering sociopath. I didn't consider it a good day unless I had killed a dozen Nazis. This darkness... I may have imparted some to you. A thirst to destroy those who prey on the weak. Everyone I heal carries a bit of my spirit with them."

He turned back to the soldier he stood beside; and placed a hand on the man's head. A strange, shadowy tendril seemed to extend from his hand into the man's head... and he gasped awake, shivering. The Shadow Master patted him on the shoulder. "You will be fine. Better than fine. For now, rest."

He walked up to Eyeball. "Aside from the incident with Lightning, I find little fault in your actions, however criminal they may be. Do not cross my family, and we will not seek you out. If you use the gift we have given you against the weak and downtrodden, we will find you and end you. Whatever impact my gift may have had on your soul, I apologize."

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

"... You were in the videos. In history class. World war two. The liberation of the concentration camps. Thats where I saw you. I thought maybe it was when you healed me and I just didn't remember clearly. But... I saw you in school."

The Shadow Master shrugged... and turned back to his work. "I killed many bad men, during those days. But not enough. Never enough."

***

General Bates was sitting down beside a holographic projector; showing a map of the country of Mexico overhead, the heart of it in dark red, with green projecting into it from the eastern coast, western coast, northern, and southern borders. At the moment, he was alone in the tent.. at least until Eyeball entered. He glanced up, looking at the chrome helmet, shaking his head as he looked back down at the map.

"I'd be pissed off at you, but you didn't create those underground factories. You just let us know they exist. So, whatever you did to find that one. Can you do it again? Ground-penetrating radar can't tell the difference between it and a sewer."

Eyeball sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry, general. My range is pretty limited on that. Give me an hour and I can confirm all the holes in Mexicali... but if its buried deep enough I won't spot it, or if it has no exits. The locals able to help at all?"

"The locals aren't cooperating. The machines, apparently, didn't hurt most of the civilians, just the cops and the cartels; until we showed up, they'd spent the past few days repairing things and distributing food. There's a growing call among the mexican civilian population to 'fight the invaders'... with videos of the chinese burning through southern mexico for emphasis. We're getting ready for the next stage of advance, but we've got machines under our feet, god knows how many more ahead of us, and now we might have to fight the people as well."

He leaned back in his seat. "Spike called me up and started telling me he had a solution, he just needed a safe ride to the heart of mexico... but he hasn't been answering comms since. So for all I know the machines have found a way to take him out. So. The men say you can tell how to kill anything, if it can be killed. This machine. Can it be killed?"

"...Not quite how it works, General. If you put a man with steel skin in front of me, I can tell you whether I can burn out his brain through his eyes, or melt him with acid. If you put a speedster in the room, I can tell you where to put the shroud, and what he can dodge.. or not. I can't look at a map and tell you how to win a war."

Bates sighed. "Worth a shot. After The Lord of Iron pulled off that show and won Mexicali for us, I was hoping some other meta could save us with a rabbit out of a hat. The machines will probably take steps to stop him from pulling that off again as we move south. Too bad. We're getting ready to march south in an hour. We've delayed too long; the border might be much further across here than in the south, but the Chinese are advancing too much faster than us... we don't want to have them burn off half the population before this is over. I want you to sweep the town for more murder-holes. We're advancing south."

Eyeball nodded. He'd found one, maybe he could find more; and just drop a drone with some C-4 down the next one. He stopped, glancing at the map. "I know we haven't had any luck listening in on their conversations. We can't even tell whether they're encrypted, or just static. But the machines -do- talk to each other via radio."

"Of course. But its too low-power, too short-range for us to detect."

"...What if you had a meta who could see radio waves? There's a guy in infantry I used to work with, Corporal Thompson, could actually see a transmitter through the wall that way. They only rated him as a Class E, but it came in handy a few times. Its not such a big deal for a handheld radio, since you only use that sometimes, but these machines are always talking to each other."

Bates stared at him for a moment. "... If he was deployed, he's probably already on the way here now. Lets get hold of him. Perhaps he can help us deal with this... infestation."

***

Everything was playing out roughly in accord with Ascension's projections. The only significant variation was the discovery of one of its underground factories in Mexicali, weeks before this was predicted to occur. Still. Fully a third of enemy air-power was depleted, they had already resorted to the mass destruction of Mexican territory to resolve issues... but had yet to even destroy the buried facilities south of this path of destruction they were creating. They hadn't even discovered the underwater facilities off the coast, simply moving right by them to continue their land assault, as if a machine would need to breathe and avoid the water; there were no signs they'd even begun to look for them.

So long as they continued causing significant damage and death as they moved in, he could draw in a truly unprecedented proportion of the world's advanced firepower into this one tiny region, while he continued to amass forces surrounding it, and scattered enclaves around the world. All the most powerful nations had committed forces here; and if he continued to make things difficult, by popping up forces behind the existing advance to strike from both sides, they would commit still more assets. Eventually, he would have as much in the area as he would be likely to get...

And then the trap could be sprung.

Legions of machines could pour up out of the ground, advance from the coasts. Mortars could rain controllers on their cities, especially on any outdoor arenas or sporting events, converting thousands into Pale Ones in moments. The moment they felt they had achieved victory, that there were merely a few scattered machines left to be mopped up...

They would be undone. No matter how powerful the forces arrayed against it, Ascension would inevitably emerge victorious; and save humanity form itself and it's mad, fascist delusions.