“Do you remember your Gizmicros, Drim Drazah?” Hower began to tie it all together. “That your dear relative, Krayat, stole for me. By my opinion, the original version had a major flaw, in that you purposely disabled the ability for them to kill their host. My team desperately tried to reverse that blocker, but they never could.”
“So we made new ones. Not quite as potent as your design, but we did our best. You saw our initial release in Bastion. All they could manage was a bit of psyche and emotional stunting and manipulation. But we’ve improved on it since, though unfortunately haven’t had the opportunity to make them widespread. And now they can invoke death!”
❝Stop this at once!❞ Drim demanded as the effects started to worsen. Some of the accomplices had fully slumped to the table. Though not quite dead yet, they’d already succumbed to the point of exhaustion. Others glared at Hower with hateful eyes, a few even trying to leave their chairs to approach him, but immediately fell to the floor when they tried to take a single stop.
But Hower took no immediate action, though the power had worked, since his next words were clearly forced out of him against his will. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he delivered the disappointing news. That was the end of his obligation, but the madman still continued anyways, happy to explain more.
“Once the button was pressed, there was no way to stop it. These people will die, and there’s nothing that can be done to save them. The Gizmicros are deteriorating their bodies. It’s rather similar to the decay that happens to dead monsters, but from the inside out.”
“And don’t look so abhorred. You should rejoice! They are all terrible humans who deserve a devastating death worthy of their sins!”
“Then your plan is—!” Drim’s face was suddenly struck with realization.
“Yes!” Hower didn’t even let him finish, throwing up his hands with jubilant excitement. “Now you get it! If I can’t beat you Fiends, can’t overcome your ill-gotten gains. Then I just have to join you! And we’ll resolve this as proper enemies, Fiendish King, in a fight to the death!”
It wasn’t either of the already existing Fiends who gave the next response. Rather, it was Gandr who had otherwise been silent, standing idly off to the side. But now he walked slowly towards Hower. His first steps were strong, but they quickly lost strength, struggling more with each movement. And by the time he reached his superior, he collapsed to his knees at the man’s feet.
“Even me, sir?!” Gandr reached up with his waning strength, grabbing on to the Rep’s waist with his waning strength, tears streaming down his face.
“Of course, Gandr!” Hower smiled at him, reacting as if he was astounded that the question had even been asked. “You are my most loyal confidant and closest friend. I knew that if none of them would qualify for my ascension, then I could rely on you one last time.” He reached down, cupping his assistant’s hands, sending him off with warmth and love.
But the moment that the last light left Gandr’s eyes, he thrust the corpse away, disgusted by the wretch that had dared touch him. Hower didn’t let it get his mood down though, and he resumed his ecstatic cry of joy.
“Yes, I’m starting to feel it!” Hower threw his arms back into the air as the bodies around the room began to dissolve. With each one killed, a Curse Mark was imbued onto the wretched man’s skin. They certainly couldn’t see most of them, but a few appeared on his hands, along with his neck and eventually up to his face. All that were visible, though, were the traditional blood-red marks of a Lesser.
Before it could get worse, in case he had actually triggered a Fiend evolution, Jaid decided to take action—finally pushing through the abject horror they’d witnessed and had left them stunned. “If we no longer have to fear your death, then there’s no reason not to kill you!”
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The knight dashed forward with a line of clones to build up momentum, having drawn her sword and using each subsequent copy of herself to swing her blade a bit further. And finally, just as the last clone was about to connect with Hower’s flesh, to cleave his body in half, a shockwave of pure energy erupted from the man, sending the closest clones flying backwards across the room.
Drim tried to follow it up, launching vines towards the man to imprison him, but another shockwave caused the ends of the plants to disintegrate before they could even get close. And then the pulses built up in speed and strength, further pushing back the clones that were still trying to attack him.
Eventually, it became too much for Jaid, and she had to unsummon every last one. Then all she could do was try to stay standing as the relentless bombardment kept blasting the room. Drim tried to step forward, but even he struggled to move at all as everything started to crumble. The fancy table cracked and then collapsed. Chairs were blown to bits. All the monitors sparked and then shattered.
The king began shouting commands at the top of his lungs. ❝Stop!❞ ❝Surrender!❞ ❝Give up your will!❞ ❝Kill y—❞ but eventually he was completely drowned out by the nonstop pulses. It got to the point that they feared that the bunker, no, that the entire building would break and had to start considering their escape and an evacuation plan for the civilians.
But Hower wasn’t perturbed in the slightest, revelling in the destruction. “So this is it, the power that you Fiends feel?! Give me more! The strength to crush my foes!” Suddenly, the politician’s body began to hover, lifting a few inches off the ground. His maniacal laughter reached new heights, putting Lieu and every other villain they’d faced to shame.
It was a Fiend transformation like they’d never seen before, to the point that they had to wonder what he was becoming. Was it a Fiend or something else, something more? The sheer overwhelming force got to the point that they couldn’t even think about running away, fearing they’d get blasted if they lost their footing. But it was affecting Jaid far more, her whole body wobbling from the immense pressure. She stabbed her sword into the floor in a desperate attempt to stay stable.
Drim was faring better, but not by much. All he could do was witness the monstrous miracle. The birth of a new Fiend—something he despised above everything else. Any doubts that another type of ascension was happening was put to rest when Hower’s eyes illuminated with the unmistakable flash that all new Fiends experienced with their transformation.
But suddenly, the light flickered away, and Hower’s eyes remained as they were—human. Rather, they had changed a bit, now filled with unbridled terror and wincing pain. “W-what’s happening? What trick have you pulled?!” The man roared in anguish.
Just under his eyes, his skin began to flake away, floating off his body and dissolving to dust. It continued outward, his whole face cracking before it slowly started to disintegrate. “No, this can’t be!” Hower’s words rumbled and ranted though he no longer had a mouth with which to speak.
His crumbling head was replaced by nothingness, but not vacant space. It became a tangible void, utter darkness. And it extended down his neck through the rest of his body. In a last ditch effort, one final fit of rage, Hower extended his hand towards Drim. “I won’t accept this. I won’t be defeated like this. I demand victory!”
The villain's final words trailed away as the last bit of his skin vanished from existence. All that was left of Hower was his shadow, the floating dark figure left in his place. But the room suddenly went bright. Blinding spots appeared all over the empty body, exploding with illumination as they burst into existence. Drim had to shield his eyes to protect them, but slowly winced back towards the being, finding that the light had dimmed slightly, though still piercing, finally able to observe what they were: stars.
Suddenly, the king’s body felt fine, completely back to normal with all of his strength, able to stand properly again. But the same couldn’t be said about his companion. Jaid lost grip of her sword and collapsed to the ground, as if an immense weight was crushing down on her. She tried to speak, but couldn’t get out any words, taking all of her will just to stay conscious.
Drim crouched next to the night to check on her, but then whirled his head towards the floating person. “What are you doing?! Hower… what have you become?!”
“Be at ease.” A new voice echoed around the room, completely different from the man whom they’d just been confronting. It was oddly soothing, yet at the same time, piercing. It was like each word resonated with Drim’s very soul, reverberating with his entire existence. “I am not Gort Hower, and he can do you no more harm.”
“The denizens of this world pray to me with the name ‘Cosmos’. I regret this abrupt and disruptive way of meeting. It is unbecoming of my methods, but it could not be helped. I urgently need to speak with you, Drim Drazah.”