“Hurry up, Creti! They’re coming!” Jaid heard cries from deep within the tunnel moments after she entered. It was clear that this escape route had been built with no intention of actually being used. There was a steep incline and rough handhelds to pull oneself forward, but that was the only form of assistance. This was a last ditch effort, not a secret passage that could be used to come and go as the homeowners pleased.
Jaid had the advantage though with her clones, able to spawn them on her shoulders to avoid actually having to climb. But it was still an arduous task, the path ahead not allowing her to just shoot straight forward. No wonder they were trying to buy so much time. With someone as frail as Creti, this path would take an eternity to traverse. She’d likely been slowly crawling through it ever since the raid started.
As the knight worked her way through, the voices became closer, more distinct, more panicked. “That has to be that damned knight,” Kalter realized. “She’s gaining on us fast. Just push her, Alk!”
“I’m trying, Cosdamnit,” The Plague Doctor snapped back. “She’s wedged in there good.”
“Zjik, alright, let me scoot past, I’ll throw her,” The Athlete barked the order, and Jaid heard some shuffling as she drew ever closer. There were then a few muffled screams and cries, along with some shaking in the tunnel. Kalter must have used his Curse to vault Creti forward, treating her as one of the man’s projectiles.
Jaid had to hurry and began blitzing through clones like a madwoman, not allowing herself to give those Fiends even a second of a head start. By the time she caught up, Alk’s boots were just slipping through the trapdoor to the unknown location.
The rushing Paladin blasted out of the ground behind her and spawned several clones in all directions, trying to get her bearings as quickly as possible. She found the door and sent a wall of Jaids in that direction, barricading the only exit—at least the only traditional exit.
They were in some kind of storage shed, about the size of a standard garage, but it was in heavy disrepair. The paint was peeling, the window was cracked, and the roof had all but caved in. Light trickled in through the various holes and gaps from the morning sun. The building could be easily broken out of if one of the Fiends used their full force, so the knight would have to be wary of that.
But at least the most problematic among them was worse for wear. Lieu was slumped on the floor, his back against the wall, fog swirling around his entire body. Alk was crouched next to him, attempting to speed up his regeneration with her own Curse. Meanwhile, Kalter had thrown himself in front of Creti, shielding the exhausted girl with his own body, ready to strike back with darts in his hands.
“Creti Sloemin,” the original Jaid pointed her sword in the girl’s direction. “By order of the Central Peace, we are placing you under arrest. Surrender now, and you and the rest of Above may just make it out of this unscathed.”
“Do you really think we’d surrender?” Kalter scoffed. “Or are you stupid enough to think that you can take on all four of us at once? But sure, maybe we’d be open to discussing terms if you took off that silly thing on your face.” With as much of a warning as he’d grace her with, Kalter flung his handful of darts towards her visor. They swerved in all directions, each attacking her from a different angle.
But Jaid had been anticipating this. Several clones shot forward and sliced the darts out of the air effortlessly before dissipating back out of existence. “This is your last chance,” one of the clones shifted their blade into a railgun and took aim at Kalter’s chest. She knew better than to swing her sword at him recklessly. One good deflection and he could send it flying right back at her. She doubted he could redirect lightning, though it would be interesting to see him try.
The Paladin counted to ten in her head, giving them a chance to do literally anything at all. But there was no attempt at surrender, and no further attacks. Kalter just stood there, trying to make sure he was covering Creti with as much of his body as possible. So Jaid let loose. Lightning struck him square in the chest, electrocuting him with what would be a lethal dose for any human or Lesser.
He keeled over onto the ground, his semi-paralyzed hand desperately clutching at his new wound. Alk took a step in his direction, clearly not wanting to leave Lieu’s side, but she thrust an open palm towards her fallen comrade, undoubtedly splitting the focus of her Curse to try and get him back on his feet.
Jaid couldn’t miss this opportunity with Creti left unguarded. She dashed forward and took a brutal swing at the girl’s head with the flat of her blade. With no one left to protect her and her own reflexes too poor to dodge, Creti could only cry in fear as she watched the slab of metal slam into the side of her face. The girl was sent straight to the ground next to Kalter.
But unexpectedly, that caused Jaid to feel a twinge of pain in her mind which then rattled the very fiber of her being. It seemed the visors weren’t fully effective against Creti’s Curse after all, at least not when actively causing her harm. They really should have taken up Drim’s offer and borrowed the For Hire’s version. But the CP scientists were prideful and believed that they’d caught up to The Engineer’s level. Clearly not, since Nathym’s wouldn’t have this fault.
Even with that nagging feeling grasping at her heart, the knight could still push through it. If anything, it would help with her next attack. She swung down towards Creti’s now-exposed legs, not aiming to cut them off, but just to maim then—severing through her tendons so she couldn’t try and run. That was an injury that would take hours at minimum for her regeneration to heal and was one that even Alk’s Curse would struggle to mend.
In that way, Jaid having the momentum slapped out of her was a good thing. It was forcing her swing to be slower, more steady and careful. But it almost got to the point that she wouldn’t be able to slice through the girl’s leg at all. She just had to convince herself that what she was doing was the best thing for Creti, since it was either this or delivered to the CP in a body bag.
The mighty broadsword tore down through flesh, but the flesh that The Paladin had been expecting. Kalter had jumped back up to one knee and shot up his hand to block the sword. The sharp edge wedged right between two of his fingers and sliced down his arm, nearly to his elbow before Jaid could realize and halt her swing.
Gritting through the pain, The Athlete leapt forward, getting back on his feet. He pushed the knight’s sword forward, while also embedding it deeper into his flesh. As soon as he was standing solidly, he jumped backwards and ripped his cleaved arm free of the blade. A few more steps stumbling backwards and he landed on his butt against the wall next to Lieu.
“Damn it, Kalter!” Alk whined, straining her Curse even more to stop the fountain of fiery blood spurting out of his limb.
This made the boy smirk, quickly evolving into an uncontrollable snicker. “Look,” he raised his intact hand and pointed at his foe. And then he clenched his fist to focus his energy.
Jaid suddenly felt the heaviness of her sword—reminiscent of the first time she tried to pick it up back when it belonged to her mother, back when she was still human. The tip of the blade began pushing towards her as if it was trying to slash her face. Then the knight realized what Kalter had done. During that erratic motion where he’d stood up and pushed back, he had ‘thrown’ her sword.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
And now the weapon was trying to cleave through her skull, attacking with more ferocity, more momentum with each passing second. Jaid clung desperately to the hilt, straining to fight back against the traitorous sword. And it wasn’t just her, each clone was facing the same struggle, so she got rid of them. The knight made sure to move into the body of the clone that had been closest to the door, still wanting to try and bar Above’s escape even as she was fighting for her life.
This was bad. Kalter’s reckless gambit may have just won them the day if nothing happened, and just when Jaid had been almost feeling a bit of pity for the plight since she’d been thrashing them so soundly. The woman had studied the athlete’s Curse and knew how it worked. Her sword would now hunt her face relentlessly until it hit its mark, and she didn’t want to gamble that bringing her face to it and touching it gently would be enough to negate the effect.
So she had a few options. The first was to let her sword slice into her and hope that it didn’t immediately kill her—obviously not an option she could actually consider. The second was to try and get some sort of impenetrable object between herself and the weapon, but there was nothing in the immediate vicinity that would suffice. With the shack’s structure so rotten, the sword would slip through like nothing was there. Hell, probably any rocks nearby would break just as easily. Only now did Jaid chastise herself for keeping the blade so Cosdamn sharp.
The last option was to break Kalter’s concentration. This meant either killing him or knocking him unconscious. Her arms were fully occupied, as was most of her strength, so that limited any possibility of attack. But maybe if she dashed a few clones over in his direction, she could give him a good swift kick to the head before any of the others could try anything.
Though it seemed her opportunity to surprise them ran out when Alk suddenly shouted, “Damn it! Just one scratch and I can take her out! Then we can escape.” She grabbed a needle that was strapped to her hip and aimed at the struggling knight.
Zjik, that really was bad. Jaid started thinking about how she could block the hit. Maybe she could spawn a clone between them and try and block the trajectory with her sword. But she had no idea what was in the attached vial. If it was something that would hurt her skin or melt her armor with even a single drop, she was in serious trouble.
Alk threw the syringe while Jaid was still trying to figure out a plan, but none of her ideas suddenly mattered. Less than an inch from the attacker’s hand, the vial exploded, shot through by a bullet. Liquid splashed everywhere, and The Plague Doctor screamed in pain for a moment until she could get whatever disease was eating at her skin under control.
“Members of Above, we have the building surrounded!” Jaid recognized the voice of one of the Lieutenants. “If you make any sudden movements, we will shoot you without warning and without mercy.” It was a relief to hear, and with the knight still holding back her unruly sword, she’d have to rely on the others to make the final arrest. But Above had been incapacitated, at least to Jaid’s best ability. She could be proud with all she’d done and felt redeemed from her last failed raid, even if she was still currently struggling for her life.
Creti pushed herself up off the floor with her arms, but didn’t quite have the strength to stand—her legs still splayed out on the ground. Despair etched across her face as she glanced from her ravaged teammates to the squad of soldiers just outside the window that were surrounding the building.
“Lieu please,” she whimpered. “Your Curse is still active. Leave me behind and get them out of here!”
“Huh, what the hell are you saying?!” The Guerilla spoke his first words since they’d escaped the bunker, clearly still gritting through the pain. “I’m almost healed enough. Once I can move my legs, I’m grabbing you and we’re all getting out of here. Let them shoot me as much as they want!”
“No, listen to me!” The Idol’s words got more desperate, more erratic. “I’m the one they’re here for. If we escape together, they’ll never stop chasing us. But if just you three get away, then you can be free! And that’s what we’ve wanted most of all, right?! The freedom to do whatever the hell we want. So if I know that you three are still out there, that’s all I’ll need to get through this!”
“Hell no!” Lieu refused and struggled to try and start moving. “If it’s the four of us then—”
The man’s words were cut off by the sudden opening of the door behind Jaid. She had to stoically shift to the side while still fighting her sword to let him into the room. But when she saw the state the man was in, her eyes went just as wide as the others.
Creti took one look at him, his determination despite everything else, and her despair was replaced with pure, raw fear. She whipped her head back to her friends, tears streaming down her face. “Lieu, please!” Any chance he had of rejecting her vanished in that moment. The Idol’s Curse surged in full force, manipulating her friends for possibly the first intentional time ever, forcing them to bend to her will.
Lieu’s arms shot out with what remaining strength he had. The Guerilla grabbed Alk and Kalter, pulling them close to his body. All three suddenly enveloped into fog and flew through the cracks in the ceiling. What should have happened next were soldiers scrambling to activate the traps they brought with them to try and suck up the fog. But no one thought of it, because none of them could. Creti’s cry had gotten to them all, preventing them from doing anything to interfere with her selfless wish.
And Tusmon should have been affected most of all, since for whatever reason, he was no longer wearing his visor. Yet he managed to keep his demeanor after seeing Creti in such peril. Also missing was his protective suit. The Lesser had apparently stuffed his usual trench coat inside of it, and now it swayed with each slow step towards Creti he took, his hand gripping his pistol.
But what had instilled fear was the man’s visage. His unimpeded skin had evidently been exposed to the radioactivity for some time now. The detective’s face had turned stark red with certain spots singed and smoldering.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jaid demanded to know as she continued to struggle, still fighting against Kalter’s Curse despite his disappearance. “Where’s your suit?! Hurry up and get out of here! You’ll die if you don’t get treated quickly!”
“One of our soldiers got stuck in a trap,” Tusmon explained. “To get her out of it, she had to shed her suit, so I gave her mine. But once I was exposed, I could feel Creti’s distress. It seems her power isn’t purely visual like we thought. Any time she’s desperate for help, it sends a call out to anyone who’d listen, and it led us right to her. I wouldn’t have turned back anyways, not until seeing the mission through.”
“So then, Creti Sloemin, I hope you understand why we’re here. You’ve been terrorizing all those you come in contact with, leaving nothing but ruined lives in your wake. Your power is godly, one no mortal should possess—especially not by you, who is far too weak to keep it under control. The Central Peace, no the world, can no longer stand by and let you run around unchained.”
Creti clenched her teeth at him in anger, but her tears kept flowing at the truthful words. “I know you’re right. I’m no good at controlling my power, and I’m too weak and lazy to get any better at it, at least without someone to help guide me. I just need some help, someone to look out for me and help me grow into the good person I know I can be. Do you think you could do that? Don’t you want to help me?!”
A last desperate plea, her Curse in full swing. Jaid stared Tusmon down, watching his every move. She tried to figure the words she’d need to say to the other soldiers to subdue him if bent to her whims. Her worst fears came to light when he went to reach for his gun, certainly not needed against someone as weak and frail as this girl.
“Yes, I do,” the detective answered as he raised his gun in the air. The knight wasn’t quite sure what he was planning to do, but couldn’t take the risk. She opened her mouth to spout some order to her men, unsure what words would come out, but Tusmon had to be stopped just in case he’d been compromised.
But in that moment, her sword suddenly stopped attacking her, completely free of Kalter’s influence. That was just enough to distract her, only taking her eyes off of them for a split second—just long enough for Detective Tusmon to place the barrel of his gun against Creti’s forehead.
The Paladin took matters into her own hands, dashing towards the detective, and swinging towards his weapon, trying to knock it out of his hands. The gun went flying, clanging against the ceiling and then clattering to the floor where it came to a rest after a brief spin. But it wasn’t entirely still... as smoke trickled out of the barrel.