A sky darkened above the three souls, sleeping gods weaving fate from the thin threads of existence.
Hidden beneath a smooth outcropping of rock the campsite was surrounded on all three sides. A single yawning opening leaving one point of entry and exit, the howling of the cold wind contained by the heat of stone.
A jolt of lightning courses through the unconscious mind, augmentation screaming awake the Collective Auditor in a wild, uncontrolled mess of movement. Memories of carnage and gore run through active senses, a scream of rage echoing deep into the night.
Sitting up with insane dexterity the form readies itself for conflict against impossible odds.
Eyes wide as optical sensors reorient to a new position within the world, the two sitting forms of a twisari fratrem pausing in awkward silence as they’re spotted across the fire; a nightly meal interrupted by Auditor Manara.
The wild glow of augmentation falters as caloric energy reaches critical reserves, the woman grunting in dulled pain as grievous wounds threaten to tear the creature apart. Looking at herself, the obvious incisions of medical intervention were covered by sterile bandages. A diagnostic check run in minds; primary injuries and organ damage stemmed to a non-lethal point. An augmented body broken, yet functional in the most barest of divisions.
“My estimation was correct.” The boy subtly brags to the sibling. “She has awoken as scheduled.”
“Your estimation was mid-evening. It is not currently that time.” The girl replies.
“There are statistical anomalies, an allowance of error should be made.” The boy ends, turning over to the form of Manara.
Against a lit chemical fire three souls sit, the subtle distortion of burning flames echoing forth a language of experience and unspoken agreements.
Wrapped within a spare bedroll Manara pulls off the woven fabric encasing her being, an ice cold spike traveling through her upper torso as injuries flare.
“I am only versed in the basics of the hanari school. Less so treating injuries to aanar augmentation.” Samuel warns as he watches the woman hesitate from a facsimile of pain. “I hope the application of medical tape and bone gel is sufficient.”
Manara pauses as she carefully senses the repaired wound, words soft as she pushes air through a single undamaged lung. “It is sufficient.”
Silence emanates as the distant howl of the wind across the plateau echoes between souls, peace broken as Samantha asks the question tensely. “Will you attempt to terminate us?”
Auditor Manara of District Two stares at the fated pair, blue-stained eyes blank as she maintains a neutral expression. An oathed duty beneath the gods, an unbreakable fate shattered by the will of the divines above. One sentence spoken in a tragic, unbelieved truth. A universe befalling judgment as it hears the language. “I must.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The girl reaches for the anti-material rifle at her side, the sibling stopping her with augmented insight. “I do not believe such a course of action is advisable given the current state of your body.”
“Nor is it advisable to combat a highly augmented danar Mage.” The Auditor notes with a smile alongside the point. “With a particular risk involving the introduction of… arcane ordnance.”
Samantha blinks away as eyes meet, a social contract rarely executed as emotional attachment clashes with stubborness; a scowl wrought upon the girl’s face in confusion.
Auditor Manara sighs as she breathes in warm air, the temperature familiar within sensory input. “Not to discount the existence of someone such as yourself, Samuel. One with such a unique ‘condition,’ as you have explained it.”
The boy pauses mid-chew, the ration pack left half-consumed at the mention of his name.
Manara continues slowly. “I can count upon my hand the number of male augmentorum who have existed in the history of the Armin Collective.”
“Four.” Samuel recalls instantly.
“And one more.” The Auditor notes with deep concern. “I am uncertain if I should consider myself honored to have an interaction with such an individual. The discovery of an augmentarus compatible male is commonly hallmarked to eras of great upheaval and chaos.”
“Such an observation is a self-fulfilling prophecy.” The boy comments. “Statistically it is estimated that one in three hundred million males are base-level compatible for augmentation. Only the Collective applies meaning to their existence if they are discovered.”
“It does not change the importance of your existence, Samantha and Samuel.” Auditor Manara states as she turns towards the girl. “That weapon is beyond a simple arcane device. You were able to nearly terminate me with a single round placed in a non-vital area, and no weapon of such a caliber is able to fire at such a velocity, or leverage such power. It is beyond a mastercraft work.”
“Your observations are correct.” Samantha breathes as she runs a hand across the divine mechanism, ice cold steel burning through nerves of flesh.
A minor warping of reality at the edge of the squared barrel, an idling of the internalized mechanism brimming with power incarnate.
“By the Five.” The Auditor realizes with wide eyes. “Such an item is of the divine. If I may ask; is such a weapon a direct copy?”
Samuel and Samantha exchange glances. “Of what originator item are you referring to?”
The holy words shatter the world, an echoing voice at its spoken name. “THE GOD GUN.”
A breeze of wind picks the language, the distant wail of a world asleep beneath the Five consuming the three souls.
“And your augmentation is of a similar origin Samuel.” Auditor Manara follows, the voice a barely audible whisper. “You were able to deflect a high velocity anti-mage bullet.”
“Any danar mage is able to execute such a defensive stance.” The boy answers simply, hiding the truth of his being.
“It is not a question of raw power, but one of reaction.” Manara stares into souls as augmented eyes meet with those of similar creation. “You knew of the bullet’s fated trajectory before it was fired. Your action was executed to a known factor, not a reaction against an unknown trigger.”
“Your assessment is basic. Such augmentation does not exist within the modern con…”
Auditor Manara interrupts the boy as she maintains eye-contact, unblinking irises in still revelation. Cold, calm words reaching souls, a final end to the argumentation. “You are lying.”
Samuel stops.