“Sorry for all the problems we have caused.” Janine stood at attention, only for the mayor to wave her to sit in the chair.
Jaquan’s office wasn’t what she expected. She thought it would be drowning in riches and jewelry, looking just as gorgeous as the ancient building itself. But once Janine had passed through the massive stone columns and taken the elevator to the fifth floor, she came into a plain-looking white office with a huge window positioned behind the mayor’s desk, showing the busy city square beneath. A few cabinets with the books stood by the wall, and a single picture showing all three Commanders, Ravager, Devourer, and Outsider, was positioned on the left wall. A massive map of Houstad took up a quarter of the left wall.
The mayor’s leather-upholstered chair seemed a bit too rough for the place, and Janine knew the morbid reason behind it. One of Houtstad’s first mayors was caught embezzling funds from the city budget. The Dynast made an example of her by turning the woman’s remains into an eternal reminder for all future servants.
“All things considered, it wasn’t that bad,” Jacomie’s second in command said as he came closer to Janine. “Schalk Morrow, pleasure to meet you, Warlord! The songs about your bout with Blood Graf are sung even here.”
“There was no bout,” Janine mumbled, carefully shaking the man’s hand. Schalk looked in his forties; just like Jacomie, his skin looked like coal, but his blue eyes betrayed far more warmth than his commander’s. “He crushed me in one go.”
“Schalk, if you have finished kissing the Warlord’s ass, we have work to do,” Jacomie snapped, sitting sourly on a sofa. “People got traumatized. Jaquan, kids have seen guts spilled on the floor.”
Janine only gave her the nod. With the Dynast’s order to slow down the training, they had to push the Wolfkins to explore their new habitat. Upon getting a leave, dozens of black-furred bodies charged across the streets, sneaking under the bridges, sniffing everything they could, and leaving markings for future groups. Police had to physically stop a Wolf Hag from scent-marking Devourer’s statue in the park. Janine herself went to pick up the confused woman from a local prison when a new disaster struck the next day.
Her own cubs and the Wolfkins from Ygrite’s pack got into trouble in a bank when some poor fools chose this exact time to try to rob the place. Eighteen people, all armed, were accompanied by the three abnormals with powers. The standard protocol for such events was to surrender and let the police handle things; robberies, while rare, were not something impossible. There were always a few people with powers who let the feeling of invisibility get to their heads and did stupid shit. Usually, they are caught on the spot, with no shot fired.
But with the four Wolfkins, the situation ended up being very messy. Seven people died, all robbers. None of the civilians were harmed, not physically, at least. But Janine supposed that seeing blood-stained walls, witnessing how people’s throats were being opened by jaws, and hearing the gurgling of the dying and the pleading of the still alive would not allow a number of people to sleep soundly.
And the problems didn’t end there. Impatient One got into a fight with Anissa at the police station, and now both women were thrown into cells for their own safety, guarded by police officers from the ranks of Orais. Already burning from shame and worried sick about her daughter’s fate, Janine wanted to immolate herself at the news of Alpha’s arrest. She has no idea what exactly happened to draw Alpha into such a fit of rage.
It all started relatively civilly, with Ygrite throwing a party to celebrate the release of her soldier. The party soon turned into the base-wide explosion of fun and debauchery that came to an abrupt halt at Dragena’s and Alpha’s arrival. Without saying a word, Alpha impaled Ygrite on her massive claws, mercilessly lifting the woman up right before Captain Cristobo and the shocked state’s journalists.
Naturally, the police got involved, but Ygrite, of course, chose not to press charges. Janine still did not know what this all was about, only now Dragena never made a step away from Ygrite, Ygrite became busy inspecting her pack and writing a report, Chak complained about a sudden obscene amount of work dropped at him, and Alpha had been taken to the state’s prison, sharing a cell with Anissa.
“Come on, ma’am,” Schalk said. “The city will be cleaner without some trash littering the streets.”
“Regardless, we should have known better,” Janine quickly interjected before the lieutenant could speak. “On behalf of the Wolf Tribe, I offer our sincere apologies. Should you ask for a blood price…”
“I will hear none of it.” The mayor slammed his hand onto the table. “Warlord, I understand that savagery is a way to act in the north, but here and now we are civilized people. Your soldiers…”
“Not all of them are mine. Alpha is....”
“Irrelevant. They will perform community service under the supervision of Sword Saint Tancred Ironwill, who has assumed the role of the city’s protector. Not that there is much to protect against, but they can clean streets and serve in soup kitchens…”
“Fur,” Jacomie said angrily.
“Yes, right,” the mayor allowed himself a smile. “Well, we’ll find something for them to do,” he sighed, leaning in the chair. “Why can’t your kind be normal like Ice Fangs? Your cousins had already mostly left the city, moving on to check on their fiefdoms and schools, spreading their majesty everywhere. And your kind act like barbarians.”
“We are the barbarians,” Janine reminded him.
“But you don’t have to be! I received a report that six of your kind had paid visits to the therapy clinic. Six! Out of thousands! Despite the state paying for it. Cinemas, theaters, markets, and stores—all are open for you, and your people want to stay back at the base, hiding in the base.” Jaquan shook his head. “It’s as if you don’t want to live in a world you helped create and would rather wage pointless wars.”
“Pointless? Elaborate.” This time, Janine felt anger, quenching it before a growl could leave her lips.
“Take your last conquest. This Tecno-Queen. What did we win?” The mayor looked into Janine’s eyes. “A fat nothing. The land that can’t be used, we got thousands of new mouths to feed, lost loyal soldiers to the conquest, and your own tribe ended up being bled dry.”
“We stopped the Techno-Queen…”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Jacomie sneered. “I’ve read the reports and spoke with the captain. She would’ve ruined her own land, turning it into a necropolis one way or another. And we just went into a hornet’s nest and got our asses red. Death is all you brought back home.”
“And lives,” the Warlord reminded her. “You are wrong, lieutenant. Had we waited, hundreds of cubs would have died.”
“Matters of another country…”
“Don’t interrupt me ever again, Jacomie.” Janine stepped toward the soldier, covering her in shadow. “The Dynast has made his will clear. All will be united under his banner. And we can’t do it if these people are dead. Even if you don’t care about lives, think of danger. The Techno-Queen wasn’t some mad ruler or politician who would ruin her country. No, she was a threat even on her own. Removing her right now and here means preserving the state from a stronger attack in the future.”
“Again with this,” the mayor groaned, gesturing for Janine to sit. “Warlord. I deeply respect what your kind is doing for the state. But look at Houstad.” He gestured at the window behind him. “For all our splendor and glory, we still have people living in slums or on the street. And despite this, I must give two-quarters of our annual budget to sustain armies. Two quarters! Can you just imagine what we could’ve done with it?” A light came into his eyes. “New orphanages can be built; we can renovate the struggling districts, open factories, and create jobs. Rather than saving other people, we could’ve helped our own. More teachers, more doctors, more specialists…”
“Those who don’t want to feed their own army are bound to feed the army of another nation,” Schalk recited an ancient proverb.
“Rubbish.” Jacomie tapped on the sofa, getting Janine’s attention. “You spoke plainly; let me return the favor. These rumors about invasions from afar? They are nothing but fear-mongering to sustain our war machine, to make people like you feel needed and heroic.”
“You don’t know that. Houstad was invaded in the past,” Janine replied, keeping her cool.
“And we crushed the attackers! We, the Provincial Army, did all the hard lifting while you fought somewhere else.” The lieutenant’s fist clenched the leather of her sofa. “And I do know what I am talking about, Warlord. My tribe were a peaceful people, living their own lives…”
“Ma’am, please…” Schalk tried to stop her.
“And you know what happened?” The woman ignored him. “One day the Second Army showed up, smashing our gates and shooting everywhere.” She stood up, pointing at her scarred head. “I was six years old back then. My mother had tried to carry me away when a building near us exploded. The conquerors dragged us to the Outer Lands and declared us civilized. As if we weren’t! And now the language of my tribe and our traditions exist just in museums and…”
“Jacomie. Enough,” the mayor asked, but Janine lifted her paw.
She stood up and made a bow to the woman, showing her the back of her neck.
“I am deeply sorry for what has happened to you and your tribe.”
Janine meant that. To lose one’s identity was unthinkable. Janine imagined the situation reversed, herself witnessing the fires devouring many tents in her village, soldiers dragging cubs away to be locked in orphanages, adults being taken to the reeducation camps, loss of one’s identity, a need to fight for a new job, all alone and isolated from the rest of her people… No, even though their cause was just, she wished no one to experience this sort of pain.
“Keep your people on a leash, and all we are even,” Jacomie forced out a laugh. “It’s all matters of ancient days, anyway. Sorry about getting all emotional, Warlord. I am leaving to meet with Cristobo and the police captain. We need to think about how to explain this… shitshow to the press and avoid future incidents.”
“Of course. Janine, we will solve the problems and get your soldiers cleared. Just please inform them not to start a ruckus in the future,” Jaquan asked.
“I swear on my pride,” Janine said, pressing a paw to her chest.
She spent a little more time with the man, learning what she could about Houstad customs and rules. Apparently, people here were willing to part with their tokens upon being mugged in the street. The mayor and lieutenant were both officially in the “Restoration” political party, an ever-growing movement that was trying to persuade the Dynast to stop the expansion and turn the state’s attention inward, fixing many, many problems in the state. Their goal was the total removal of the distinction between the Outer Lands and Core Lands and bringing every settlement and town up to the standards of the Core Lands.
Leaving the mayor’s office, Janine could only shake her shoulders. Why can’t they see the reason? To stop and try to live a life of peace in a world where such crazies as Blood Graf and the Techno-Queen exist is simply not possible. The state has to keep expanding; it has to keep uprooting these threats before they grow strong enough to wreck untold devastation. Until the world is reunited, all dreams of peace are just delusions.
“Warlord!” Schalk caught up to her, slipping into the elevator at the very last second. Janine had already had to hunch down to fit in, and with another person, it had got cramped. “I just wanted to say that Jacomie Bronkhorst is a loyal soldier of the state, despite her harsh words. You can trust her with your life, so please don’t…”
“There was no harm,” Janine grumbled, trying not to smash the man against the wall. “Honesty is appreciated.”
“Well, then, should you ever need something, go straight to me,” Schalk said, evading her elbow. “Sometimes there are hang-ups in deliveries; a lot of paperwork needs to be filled out...All important stuff, sure, but if you ever need an aid in speeding up anything, go straight to me!”
“I’ll keep this in mind,” Janine told him. “You look quite similar to the lieutenant. Are you two from the same tribe?”
“From the same town, actually,” Schalk said. “My father served in the garrison. Got himself killed by an agent of the Second Army prior to the invasion. After the conquest, I decided to follow in his footsteps, minus being killed, of course.” The man flashed a strained smile. “The lieutenant and I first joined the militia in the Outer Lands before being transferred here as a reward for service.”
“I am sorry about your home,” Janine said quietly.
“Well, it’s not like we can change the past, right? We must tend to the future.” The man only shrugged.
When Janine left city hall, the busy road was filled with the obnoxious sounds and light of hundreds of moving cars. The Warlord still had trouble wrapping her head around just how many people lived in Houstad. Whether she looked left or right, she saw the same picture. Life. Mothers walking with their cubs in parks. Laughing cubs left school and rushed to the buses to get back home. Police officers regulating the movement.
She saw a trio of cubs charging from the school’s stairs. One girl with a clot of tentacles for legs has stumbled on the stairs. Malformed. Janine moved to help her before the girl could smash her head against the stone, but another colossal form out-sprinted her. Eled.
The Warlord caught the girl with one paw, saying something to the terrified-looking child that made her let out a giggle. Slowly and carefully, Eled put her next to her friends: an orais boy, already tall as a grown-up man, covered by short brown fur and with a biceps thick enough to make even a Wolfkin male blush in envy, and a normie girl, who looked like straw compared to the boy. The sight made Janine smile.
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Marco would have been happy here. She thought. In the Outer Lands, malformed were despised and shunned. It was common to find a bleeding new breed lying face down at the edge of a settlement, with the locals being too afraid to come and check on them. Even the Wolf Tribe would often refuse them entry to their villages. The memories of the unspeakable atrocities committed by their kind lingered to this day. It didn’t help that many malformed lived as cannibals, eagerly mutilating and torturing their victims. Chak had to put up with a lot of stuff before being fully accepted by the tribe.
And look here! Cubs of various origins are laughing and studying together. No one is scared of each other, at least not at first glance. Janine still wasn’t sure how the cubs of Orais didn’t accidentally slaughter everyone, but the fact was undeniable. Marco would’ve fit in just fine. Abyss, if the rumors about special schools were true, any mismatched cub could live here.
Could we be wrong? Janine wondered, looking at her paw. She felt strong and fully recovered after the wounds; her arm worked perfectly once more; and annoying sickness was flushed out of her body. The sliced ear, damaged jaw, broken bones, and torn muscles all came back to normal. The fighting has made her who she is. But looking all around her, with males and females being equal and no dominance matches sparkling on the street, something about all this sight tugged at her heartstrings. What if there was another way for the Wolf Tribe to…
Foolish. She reprimanded herself and looked around anew. She saw how gentle this Orais boy was when he gave a pat to one of his friends, showing next to no fear while standing near Eled. Children who were raised in peace were hardly suited for the horrors of war, and this was okay. They deserve to be happy. But this happiness comes at a cost. This stability around her, this wondrous paradise… Should everyone live like the locals, the state will grow weak.
And then they would be washed away, leaving only ruins in their wake and chilly winds beating against the lifeless walls. Is this what she wants? No. Janine has to move forward, she has to fight to build a better future. Even if she can’t enjoy it herself.
“What will happen to our sisters?” Predaig asked, rising from a bench before the city hall. The ancient warlord was dressed in a thick fur coat, along with warm pants and thick gloves on her paws. She rubbed her paws, shaking off the cold.
“Servitude for a while,” Janine answered.
“I found an awesome bar nearby!” Martyshkina boomed, coming closer to Janine and putting an elbow on her shoulder. Out of them all, she was the only one wearing a simple white shirt and black pants, always unbothered by the cold. “Say, how about we taste some of the beverage they pass for booze around here?”
“We need to pick up Alpha and the others first.”
“Eled can do it,” Martyshkina pointed at the Warlord who allowed a kid to piggyback ride her. “Anything to keep her away from the cubs before all the news agencies make us look silly.”
“Too late for that,” Predaig said in a rasped voice, and pointed at the reporter crew. The sight of them made Martyshkina groan in frustration.
Janine wanted to refuse, but remembered the mayor’s words.
It’s as if you don’t want to live in a world you helped create.
What was the harm in seeing something other than war?
“You know what? Let’s go. Predaig, please keep Eled out of trouble.”
****
“This is exactly my kind of place!” Martyshkina laughed, landing herself on a chair.
It has been nearly a month since the Wolf Tribe arrived in Houstad. Yet Janine only now understood what sort of maze this place was. Janine felt suffocated when they walked through alleyways with stone walls close enough to scratch the edges of their shoulders. One alleyway flowed into another, and another into three more, with countless advertisements flashing at the brickwork and homeless people rummaging through the garbage cans. All the instincts within her cried out to jump, plunge her claws into walls, and reach the roofs from which she could survey her surroundings.
Janine calmed down her fears, allowing her friend to lead her to a small street bar, half-empty at this time of day. They were greeted with pleasant darkness and low, soothing music coming from a wall, along with a thick cloud of smoke gathering at the ceiling. Judging by how warmly the bartender welcomed Martyshkina and by the scent marks outside, this was hardly Marty’s first visit here.
Marty started as usual with three bottles of vodka and a plate filled with some weird crustaceans, known as crayfish. Janine chose a bit more of a moderate approach, ordering herself a bottle of cognac and seven portions of roasted perch. Crushing the bones in her mouth, Janine concluded the chef must’ve over-salted the fish. Tentatively, she ordered herself an orange juice, sniffing the glass several times before finally tasting it with her tongue.
Her eyes widened in pleasure, and Janine gulped down the entire thing. It felt good! Tasty and pleasant, with sourness removed via the addition of sugar. The Warlord snapped her fingers, calling the waiter, and ordered herself more juice, mixing it with cognac this time.
“So, care to explain what is bothering you?” Martyshkina hiccuped, emptying the third bottle. “Or should I beat it out of ya?”
“That obvious?” Janine laughed and drank another glass. “Marty, I am about to do something really stupid. I am planning to make a proposition at the next Gathering and was wondering if you…”
“Lemme stop you right here. Sorry, Jani, can’t support you here.” Martyshkina hungrily snatched another bottle of vodka from the waiter’s hands.
“But why? You haven’t even listened to what I want to change…”
“Because it is arrogant,” Martyshkina replied, catching her look. “Jani, the tribe is split between civil life and military life for a reason. Shamans are the ones who help new mothers with lifegiving. They are the ones who manage food, and it is only thanks to their cleverness that we have endured all famines. And yet, despite all of this, they are willingly serving us in times of war, putting their lives on the line to preserve ours.” Martyshkina put the glass away and folded her paws. “We, who spend our whole lives on the battlefield, who allow our cubs…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “We are the tools of death. They are the tools of life. Both are needed, but neither should infringe on the territory of the other.
“But this isn’t what is bothering you, right?” Martyshkina roared and slammed her paw against the table, making drinks jump. Janine looked around, waving her paw at other customers in a gesture that everything was under control. “Jani, I saw through your own HUD how you hesitated in a battle against that bull. I spoke with Bertruda…”
“You what?!”
“Don’t look at me like that, sister.” Martyshkina pressed her forehead against Janine’s, locking eyes with her. “I planned to kill her for causing you distress, but her description of a battle threw me off. The Janine I know would never hold back in battle, consequences be damned. You nearly tore my heart out when we were cubs…”
“Wait, what the fuck, Marty?” The bartender asked.
“Shut up!” They cried in unison, still looking at each other. Martyshkina continued. “Jani, I am sorry. I am sorry for being so consumed by my own problems that I did not notice yours. But this is over now. Tell me, truly, what is bothering you before I beat the answer along with your fangs! If I am still your sister in blood and friendship, trust me!”
Janine was the first to break eye contact, just to empty another glass of cognac. It’s true; in the past, they always shared everything with Marty. Boys, fighting, sorrows, victories, treats, secrets… When one got injured, the other treated her wounds. When one was beaten, the other would jump at the winner. Janine filled the glass again, looking at the moving liquid.
“It’s about Terrific,” Janine finally said, taking another shot.
“About that bitch? What about her?” Martyshkina asked bitterly, making Janine smile.
“She is… Terrific wasn’t a bitch!” Janine looked at Marty weakly. “Well, she wasn’t a bitch to me. You remember how I was weak in the pits and then I could match you in the battle? It’s because Terrific stood by me, pushing me to excellence. Under her care, my body had healed, allowing me to reach my current heights.” Janine put aside the glass, remembering everything that had happened in the past. “The Warlord was a bad person.”
“You mean she was a monster,” Martyshkina said. “I remember how she beat us and tortured the shit out of those cubs.”
“Should I call the police?” The bartender raised his brow.
“No need; Terrific is long dead,” Janine told him and sighed. “Marty, she had a hard life. Terrific was one of the first generation, a person who stood by Ravager at the dawn of our Tribe. And yet she was different. Her claws could barely come out of her fingers.” Janine raised her own paw. At the end of each fingertip, each Wolfkin had wrinkled skin that was loose and bag-like. Out of these places, their claws were coming out. Janine let out a few millimeters of her own claws, showing them to Marty. “Here. This is all she could do with them—not enough to reach for a jugular or anything vital.
“And she was weak too, not like other Warlords who grow naturally. Marty, she trained, actually trained all day long, carrying tremendous weights on her fingers, lifting weights, and fighting everything she could. She challenged other Warlords over and over, even Alpha, and always ended up losing. At the end, it was shamans who promoted her to be a Warlord after the Tribe had become large enough.” Janine looked at her friend. “Can you imagine this shame? To obtain the long-desired rank, not through strength but through pity-victory. It was eating her alive, likely causing her to lash out in the way she did.
“And despite her pain, Terrific cared for us. She helped with your transfer. She honed my skills, turning me from a useless wreck…”
“You think I would waste my time on a useless person? Jani, a useless person, would not have stood up against her Warlord when she was about to kill me. A useless person would not share her food with the rest of the pit,” Martyshkina said calmly. “Try to call yourself useless ever again, and we are no longer friends.”
Janine gave her a pat, accepting the rebuke. Self-pity helped no one. So what if her mother threw her aside? Who cares? Janine now had friends, sisters, and family.
“Thanks. Terrific is like a mother to me. Cruel, ever angry, one who would threaten my friend, but a part of my family, nonetheless. This is why I feel like a traitor after killing her.”
“Okay, I am calling the police, ladies,” the bartender said, and a few customers have started leaving the establishment.
“Feel free; the MPs have already investigated me. I am in the clear.” Janine waved a glass at him and continued. “It all happened when Terrific captured slavers’ cubs. You know how she was; she had plans to slowly skin them alive to force the bastards into panic and swoop in, saving the hostages. And I couldn’t stand it. I…” Janine licked her lips. “I challenged her. I will never forget the look of utter betrayal on her snout. Terrific wanted either you or me to succeed her, but only after her death.”
Marty chuckled, “Well, she can suck dick on that one. We have several Warlords who have lost and reclaimed their ranks. Ain’t nothing weird about that. Abyss, Ygrite loses all the time!”
“That may be true, but they earned their original rank by right,” Janine argued, fighting against an urge to smirk. “Terrific did not. To her, losing a rank was the end—the proof that she wasn’t worthy of being one of the first generation. And when we fought, she refused to give up. Marty, if you had only seen her fight, you would’ve forever respected her stubborn refusal to lose! She was weaker than me, but her ferocity will forever be engraved in my soul. But in the end, there could be only one victor. As I held her by the neck, pinned on the ground, she started prying my ribs. And… I snapped her neck. Ever since then, I sometimes dream of that moment, thinking that maybe, somehow, I could’ve saved my moth…”
Beeping sounds stopped Janine’s monologue. Even despite the alcohol threatening her mind, Janine immediately reached for her terminal, biting her own lower lip to blood. Clarity. She needed it. Her private terminal had several sound signals. A melodic sound for informal business. A siren for military calls. And finally, this sound…
Marco. She grabbed the terminal, noticing her location at the same time as a siren gave in, announcing a call from the base. Storming outside, Janine jumped up, barely caring if Marty would follow her. Marco. Today he ventured to a comic store, accompanied by Bogdan. Janine had only a loose idea what a comic store even was, but apparently, they sold myths over there.
If she dared to touch my sons, I will kill her. Janine promised herself, burying her claws in a brickwork and climbing up, her terminal pressed to the ear by the shoulder.
“Captain Cristobo?” Janine asked. “What’s the situation?”
“Warlord!” a worried operator shouted. “An urgent situation! The police chief has just been killed, and Captain Cristobo came under attack upon returning to base, along with the lieutenant…”
The explosion silenced the rest of the words. What? Janine grabbed the terminal with both paws, using just her legs to propel herself up, and joined the communication.
“This is Kalaisa. Cristobo is badly injured, Bogdan, and the others are trying to keep them safe from the enemy. Anji and I are joining the hunt.”
“People on the street went completely mad! They are attacking each other!” Eled reported in.
“Sword Saint Tancred, reporting to duty. We have our eyes on the murdered; it is a malformed of some sort. Following him into the sewers…”
“No,” came Dragena’s calm voice. “Tancred, you are to wait until Alpha joins you. Eled, Predaig, the enemy used some sort of power to whip our people into a frenzy. Keep the cubs safe; break the limbs of the others; no casualties allowed…”
Janine reached the roof and stood up, seeing pillars of black smoke rising from the streets. To her north was a large main street, separated from her by a few dozen buildings. A crackling fire rose from the middle of the street, and the very air trembled when more crimson flowers spread on the sidewalks. Broken bodies covered in flames flew above buildings. The impact of explosions has sent parked cars back onto the main street, detonating them and further increasing them.
To her west, a large skyscraper spat out fire when hellish flame came from the windows of several floors, sending a torrent of deadly glass on the street and leaving people on the upper floor trapped within. On a street beneath, a few streaks of smoke came up, interviewed with fiery tongues that licked the wall. And everywhere, people screamed.
Screens showing advertisements or news blinked and went dark, only to show carnage on the street, where wide-eyed people leaped at each other with fists or grabbed pieces of glass in their hands. With no care for their own safety, the citizens came upon each other, kicking and punching, leaving blood and dead bodies in their wake. Some screens have changed the view, showing the car of the police chief being sliced in two and dead police officers lying all around it, getting burned by the raging flames.
“THE GILDED HORDE HAS COME!” Hundreds of loudspeakers across the city spat out words. “THE HORDE IS HERE! YOUR CITY WILL BE TRAMPLED! WE ARE HERE! AND THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP US! HAHAHAHA…”
Janine blinked to protect her eyes from a flash coming from the right. A roof on the next building exploded in a torrent of stone and pouring fire. Hearing screams inside, Janine jumped straight into the opening gap, ignoring the flames licking her eyes.
She saw a half-naked man within, his arm missing, coming at the covering cubs with a meat cleaver in hand. Judging by the burns on his body and a missing left eye, the madman had somehow exploded his own apartment before coming after the young one.
Remembering Dragena’s words, Janine simply grabbed the man by his torso, only for him to hack at her, roaring mindless obscenities. In his wounded state, the man’s hatchet barely pushed her skin; much less could he hope to wound her. Janine’s lips curled in anger when she felt a hit from behind. The little ones, two normie cubs no older than seven years, have attacked her, biting and hitting with their own feeble fists.
“Enough.” Alpha said a single word, and Janine felt fear.
The Strongest Warlord has released her fear wave, wielding it like an omnidirectional weapon. Within walls, people fell into each other’s embraces, trembling not at the cruel words or screams coming from outside but from another fear, an irrational fear of dark and unknown places. This fear wasn’t strong enough to cause strokes among the population, but it was potent enough to mess up whatever frenzy came upon the citizens.
The man in Janine’s hold relaxed, letting out a scream of pain. His rage had been holding back the pain up until that point, but it immediately returned, accompanied by rasping coughs and frantic thrashing. Janine picked him and the cubs, jumping back at the roof, and quickly took them on another roof, giving them to a few shocked people who came up in response to the explosion.
On the screens, people stopped fighting and looked at each other in horror and disgust at what they had done. Some fell on their knees, whimpering, but many more started making tourniquets to stop the bleeding of those who lost limbs or simply dragging people away from the fire.
“Our enemy has murdered the power plant’s control personnel and unleashed some ancient virus to overload the energy grid and make the announcement,” Till Ingo’s voice joined the command channel.
“Can you flush it out?” Dragena demanded to know.
“I already did it. There won’t be any more sudden explosions, and screens should return to normal at any moment. I am currently en route to the control center to vivisect whoever is responsible for it.”
“Zero, support him. Predaig, Eled, change of plans, help people in the skyscraper. Janine…”
“I have my target, Dragena.”
Martyshkina climbed the roof, but Janine has already leaped forward, charging across the roof toward the west. Half a kilometer away, almost nothing. A howl touched the skies, and Janine joined her voice to Alpha’s, soon followed by Martyshkina and other warlords across the city. Their chorus of rage soon drowned out the sounds of carnage. She had no need for any HUD to know that at this very moment the base’s doors were opening and packs were charging out.
This horde dared to attack their city? There could only be one answer.
Death.