HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Oh, that poor Telkan.
Jack Frost's illusions are nothing to trifle with.
Do we know how he got scooped up?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
No. Looks like they got Cryo-Cracked in the beginning, but then it went sideways on him.
It's so exciting!
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
That was Director Brentili'ik! I don't get it. Why deepfake her into it?
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RIGELLIAN SAURIAN COMPACT
Because it isn't a deepfake, kid.
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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
What? Was it just an actress who looks the part?
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TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
It's real, kid.
All of it.
It's real.
P'Thok fought the Malevolent Gourd and faced the Grunch. Mantid fought the Heart Taking Cherub. Rigel fought against the Jeweled Skull and the Servants of the Feathered Serpent.
We've all taken on Terran myths and legends.
Rumor has it, if you cannot prevail, then the malevolent universe discards you people.
The less culture your people have, the greater the challenges.
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LANAKTALLAN GREAT GESTALT
My people are doomed.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
It is never a challenge that cannot be overcome.
It just never makes sense.
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AKLTAK SOARING WORLDS
But why?
How is it real? How is he actually having this happen to him?
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TELKAN FORGE WORLDS
We're being tested?
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HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Or providing amusement for the malevolent universe.
We don't know.
We're getting live feed, complete with commercials and special effects.
Notice how there's no origin source? It just seems to self-generate?
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TNVARU GRIPPING HANDS
Yeah.
That's kind of weird.
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HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Because it's the universe itself wanting us to see this.
What good is it to test someone without observers, without people to watch it and see this person's triumphs over their tests?
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TUKNA'RN GESTALT
Witness them.
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TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
Exactly.
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TUKNA'RN GESTALT
The available numbers in my sector are dwindling rapidly.
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AKLTAK SOARING WORLDS
IT'S MINE! I SAW IT FIRST! MINE MINE MINE!
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HAT WEARING AUNTIE
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CRUSADE
THIS PLEASES ME!
I WISH TO SEE MORE OF THE TELKAN JANITOR STUCK IN ENDLESS WINTER!
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HAT WEARING AUNTIE
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
WE NOW RETURN TO Warfather_in_a_Winter_Wonderland(REAL)[uncut][480p-upscaled-720p].avi.exe BROUGHT TO YOU BY BOBCO, CREY INDUSTRIES, AND GURDY'S DUCK OIL! ALREADY IN PROGRESS!
CRUSADE
SILENCE!
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
Vuxten barely got oriented as he fell through space, smooth clear ice shards, some bigger than a tank, falling with him. He was reflected hundreds, dozens of times in the surface of the shards.
All of them were different.
He pushed them out of his mind, focusing on his situation.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The versions of him in the surfaces of the ice would have to take care of themselves.
Feet down, flex the knees, arms tight across his chest.
--icarus is online readings weird weird weird-- 471 let him know. --you ok--
"OK, buddy," Vuxten managed to get out. His jaws hurt form clamping down on the pieces of gum so tightly.
--wasnt here was jack frost-- 471 said.
"I know," Vuxten said. "It just hurts, buddy."
--i am with you ride or die--
He didn't see the ground, just the Icarus System suddenly kicked in.
Wings of burnt and charred feathers erupted from his back in a spray of black frost, catching air with a CRACK, yanking him upwards and smashing his testicles. Feathers erupted from the wings, burning and charring as they spun around him.
His feet hit and he went down on one knee, slamming his fist into the ground to bleed off the kinetic energy. Snow exploded around him, thrown into the air, as the gold and green flash of the system bled off the inertia and kinetic energy.
He kept his head bowed for a long moment. His armor wasn't synching up properly. His ablative armor wasn't even registering, just throwing errors. His GPS was out, even astronomy location was out. Strength assist kept dropping in and out. Just kneeling in the recovery/landing position his strength on demand systems were going offline. He could hear the gears slowly unwinding.
--you ok buddy--
"Yeah, I'm all right. I think," Vuxten said. He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath, ignoring how the air was chilly rather than the hot and sweat-humid it usually got. "I just didn't realize how much I miss her and how bad it hurts that we're apart until... until..."
--yeah--
"And it's somehow worse knowing it wasn't her. That it was some kind of trick," Vuxten said softly. He slowly raised his head, opening his eyes, the cybernetic lenses clicking. "It was like a kick to the chest."
--miss her too-- 471 said. --miss podlings and broodcarrier miss neat little nest podlings made for me miss telkan--
Vuxten slowly stood up, looking around.
He'd blasted a crater in the snow, revealing nothing but frozen earth and pebbles. Around him the trees were silent, snow covered, with ice and frost on the trunks. Here and there animals were frozen in the branches.
"Rogue elven court," Vuxten said slowly. "I'd heard people talk about it, about the Mithril Nebula Conflict, but I'd never thought I'd see it."
--dunno feels weird different-- 471 said. He tossed up some emojis of a smiley face with spinny crazy eyes and its tongue sticking out.
With a beep Vuxten's armor's meme generator tossed up an image of Vuxten himself, dressed in his old janitorial uniform, standing in the crater looking around with the caption "LOCAL MAN RELIEVED TO FIND OUT EVERYTHING STILL ALL FUCKED UP".
Vuxten chuckled and 471 threw up a laughing emoji.
"All right, let's find out what's going on. If it's a rogue elven court, I don't know what we'll do," Vuxten said. "I'm not Lady Keena, I'm not about to try to control a World Engine."
--brain go sploosh--
"Yeah," Vuxten looked around carefully. It took him a moment but he spotted tracks in the snow. Small feet, but deep imprints. No tread on the soles.
He checked the SMG and the cutting bar, clearing the action twice on the SMG and examining the bullets. They had spiraling red and white stripes on the round itself, the casing had an imprint of leaves with sharp points and small berries.
"Huh," Vuxten said, pulling the mag and putting the two rounds back, tapping the back of the mag on his helmet, and slotting it back in. The chainsword roared to life, clattering, and passed the function check. He slapped them on the magnetic plates of the mag-tac system, did a quick set of limbering up exercises in his armor, then pointed at the tracks.
"Let's see who our friends are. Too small to be elves. If their bodies are proportionate to their feet, they'll be about a foot high, so keep a watch out."
--roger roger-- 471 said, using the mechanical voice. --radar and lidar systems are out no sensors beyond sight--
Vuxten kept his hands free, pushing through the shrubbery, moving as quietly as he could through the forest.
The armor purred, hissed, gave out mechanical whines as he moved and he gritted his teeth on the stimgum. The forest was silence and even the hiss of pressure release sounded loud.
A scream of rage was his only warning. He got one hand out to smack away an incoming blur even as he yanked the cutting bar free and triggered it.
What he hit exploded into a shower of snowflakes, pieces of candy, thin strips of shiny mylar, and colorful glass globes.
Another set of screams and he got a look at them this time.
They were small, purple skin, dressed in red with white trim. They all held tools in their hands, the points and edges gleaming in the light. One ran up and jammed an icepick into his boot, the point skittering off the frozen warsteel.
It exploded into snowflakes, stuffing, candy, and the rest with the return kick.
He found himself fighting for his life, dozens of the little creatures, with their big eyes, wide mouths, pointy noses, and pointed ears leaping at him from the bushes or from the tree branches.
He saw a group of them and fired his grenade launcher. It exploded with a shower of red, gold, silver, and green sparkles.
The little creatures screamed, slapping at red and orange streamers of crepe paper that erupted from their skins.
With a kick it was over and Vuxten stood in the shattered clearing, panting and trying to get his breathing under control. Candy, broken and intact glass globes, thin strips of silver Mylar, and multi-colored clumps of snow all around him.
"What was that?" Vuxten asked.
--dont know--
Vuxten shook his head and moved forward, stopping in front of huge bushes.
"This is going to be bad," he said.
--ride or die-- 471 answered.
The bushes moved aside and Vuxten stared.
Beyond was a factory complex. He could see the smokestacks pumping out what looked like white smoke, the telltale stone facing and windows that all factory complexes seemed to have, little dwellings scattered around, including what Vuxten figured was a hab-block about fifteen feet high.
At the far side was a round pole, swirling red and white stripes, with a crystal globe on top.
CRUSADE>IT IS THE NORTH POLE! OBSERVE!
TREA>Shush
Beyond the pole was a heavy duty fortress. Walls nearly eight feet tall, a keep in the middle that Vuxten's armor estimated to be nearly thirty feet tall. A moat full of steaming liquid, a barred gate, with red and white flags snapping in an unfelt breeze.
"Time to meet whoever's doing this," Vuxten said, starting forward.
Before Vuxten took more than five steps dozens of the little creatures rushed out, this time dressed in shiny plastic armor and holding halbreds with red and white striped handles. Out of the factory marched dozens of foot tall soldiers with little rifles, tall black hats, and gnashing jaws.
"Screw this," Vuxten snapped. He grabbed the stubber off his waist and the telltales went live. The nerves up and down erupted in white fire but he gritted his teeth into the gum and pushed the pain away. He triggered the grenades and rockets, spamming eight grenades across the little creatures and their armored troops, slammed all four rockets into the keep that was above the wall.
Even if they were just fireworks, they'd do some damage.
The grenades went off, exploding into a shower of sparks and spinning firecrackers that detonated again.
Candy and tinsel flew through the air. The soldiers exploded into chunks of wood.
Vuxten raked the whole line with the stubber, the round shrieking out to explode in a shower of gold and white sparks.
Small pellets were being fired by the soldiers at the back, who were gnashing their jaws as they hurriedly reloaded by dropping chestnuts down the barrel of their weapons and hammering at it with a thin metal rod.
The rockets hit the stone and exploded, sending plumes of white smoke, silver and red and gold traceries of sparks, and greasy reddish-orange explosions in the middle.
Vuxten started advancing, raking the buildings with quick bursts. The buildings shattered and collapsed even as the nanoforge beeped that it had reloaded the launchers.
--get some get some--
Another set of grenades and all that was left behind was the little creatures laying in the snow, screaming and wailing, holding onto the glitter spewing stumps of severed limbs and trying to stuff their gummy worm guts back in. The wooden soldiers marched in circles, burning fiercely, the rest torn apart by the firepower.
The rockets hit the front wall of the fortress and rock candy blocks sailed into the air, burning brightly.
Behind the wall was a figure in blue armor that shined like plastic. Its face was plastic, the beard gray and nothing more than a solid mass of plastic fashioned to look like hair. It was surrounded by two foot tall toy soldiers.
--jack frost--
"ATTACK!" the figure yelled. "PURGE THE UNBEL-"
Vuxten raked the figure with the stubber and it was thrown back, gears and springs exposed through the huge hole in its chest.
The little creatures were running, screaming. Some of them running from the collapsing and burning buildings.
Vuxten hit the toy soldiers with a set of four grenades and watched torn free pieces sail into the sky.
The bolt on the stubber locked back and Vuxten waited for the fzzt of the loading system, but nothing happened.
He pulled a grenade from his waist, smacked it against his armor to shatter the ice, yanked the pin, and tossed it into the hab block as he walked by, the grenade sailing in through the hole a rocket had blown in it. He repeated it for the factory.
For a second he saw the label on the piece of machinery.
ELF-o-MATIC
The grenade turned it into twisted junk.
Vuxten kept walking forward, pausing long enough to kick a wind-up soldier out of the way.
There was movement in the keep. Something was shifting, rising, shouldering the blocks out of the way as Vuxten passed the burning factory town and approached the glass globe topped pole.
Vuxten paused, one hand going to his waist, pulling free a magazine even as he pulled the stubber back off the mag-tac.
The blocks shifted and groaned as Vuxten manually reloaded the stubber.
With a roar the figure underneath the rubble stood to its full height, the strength of a being throwing slabs and blocks of rock candy away.
There were three figures.
A heavyset male and female Terran, tied to chairs with ropes of shining tassels, their mouths covered in packing tape. Both were wearing red with white trim, both had white hair, both wore spectacles. Both had rosey cheeks and kind faces that bore mute testimony that someone had used violence on them.
The other was big, muscled, wearing torn and stained red with gray trim. The sleeves were torn off their jacket, revealing heavily muscled arms covered in tattoos.
It looked like a crueler, rougher version of the tied up man.
They were surrounded by packages and large red velvet bags. Two decorated trees had fallen over. There were three tiny Terrans, only three feet tall, dressed in green and red, all holding weapons.
"You dare?" the larger figure asked, lifting a hand to reveal it wore four World Engine keys. "I can snuff you out with..."
Vuxten pulled the trigger, raking the small Terrans on the left, that looked nothing like Terran children, just tiny adults. The figures were hit by the SMG rounds and went down, some missing limbs and screaming as blood sprayed, others silent as their chests exploded or their heads vanished.
Vuxten tracked over the big figure as it grinned, making a fist with an extended middle finger. A round flashing out, hitting the back of the figure's hand and exploding.
The hand vanished in a shower of blood.
Vuxten kept firing, raking the little Terrans on the other side, blowing them apart in flashes of gold, silver, red, and green.
He let off the trigger, waving the barrel of the SMG to cool it.
"Looks like you could use a hand," Vuxten found himself saying. He made a face, wondering where that had come from.
The creature roared in rage and pain as it reached down, grabbing a gun out from the stacked red velvet bags. When it pulled it up, there was a tiny little hand on the stump, too small to hold the weapon steady, so the creature laid it across the forearm instead.
Vuxten took off, jumping to the right, sticking his leg out and spraying up snow as he slid to a stop.
The Terran's shot missed.
"You gonna die at the hands of..." the figure snarled, turning to face Vuxten.
The grenade went off in the creature's face.
"I don't care," Vuxten answered.
The smoke cleared and the Terran stood there, working his jaw and mouth with an unamused expression on his face. He spit a tooth away and smiled.
"Ol' Kris 'The Krusher' Kringle can take you out just like I took out the fat man," the figure said. "Don't need no World Engine for that."
The rocket hit him in the chest, making his stagger back and slap at his chest to put out the flames that erupted on his stained and dirty ragged jacket.
"Don't care," Vuxten answered.
"You will."
WE'LL BE BACK AFTER THESE IMPORTANT MESSAGES!
TREA>Screams in frustration