Ignacy found Elzada in front of the wall. The wolf hag was standing on a pile of crates, barking orders and coordinating several maintenance teams. Her pack was also hurrying up, carrying supplies inside the wall. The wall surrounding Houstad was a marvel of technology and was far from being a single monolithic structure, as it looked from the outside. No, its interior was honeycombed, creating a labyrinth of compartments containing barracks, generator rooms, and defensive installations. In the heat of battle, secret passages could be opened, disgorging soldiers for a clever counterattack or unleashing a strong new breed to claim an enemy’s commander’s head. Entire sections could be moved around, confusing the enemy’s gunners and keeping defenders’ guns from being silenced.
The narrow tunnels all around the wall were already filled with a few tanks and APCs, making it impossible for the trucks to move around and forcing the defenders to bring in more and more surplus ammo, power cells, and repair parts on foot, hurrying back and forth through the brightly lit tunnels of the awakening wonder.
And how the wall rumbled! A whole mountain of machinery, grinding, humming, buzzing, and thundering. On any other day, Ignacy would have tried everything in his power to sneak inside and at least admire some of the insane work of engineering, or at best ask some of the technicians if he could be of any help. But not now. He had a much more important goal in mind.
A Wolfkin nearly dropped the crate, the size of a small cusack, and Ignacy helped the man regain his balance, carrying the armored crate to the truck and feeling Elzada's eyes on him. He turned to see her leap from the pile, gracefully turning in the air to land in front of him with her arms outstretched. Her beautiful amber eyes burned with a mixture of concern and anger.
"I love you," Ignacy said simply, and all anger vanished from her eyes. The two of them embraced, forgetting the world for a moment. The nearby Wolfkins made a wise decision and hurried with the delivery, doubling their efforts. "Are you going to fight today?" Ignacy asked quietly.
"No," Elzada scowled, lightly biting him in the neck, and he responded in kind, drawing blood. They tasted each other, sealing the soulmate pact in front of everyone. Until death parted them, the two were a part of a whole now. "Half of my pack is either dead, and the rest are either wounded or too young, whatever that means. Warlord has given her command; we are to escort civilians and make our way to the Wastes and…" A cheeky smile flashed on her lips, "… breed a new generation. Are you up to the task?"
"That depends." Ignacy returned the smile. "Are you?"
"I quite like being a mother," Elzada sighed. "It is time to push through the fear to the end."
Almost in response to her words, the horns roared across the wall, announcing the Horde’s approach. Ignacy heard the hissing of what sounded like countless burning wooden logs, and a crimson light appeared on the plates of the radar arrays. The two soulmates darted to the crates, abandoning all distinction between a male and a female and all dignity between the ranks. Working double time, the Wolfkins started helping to finish the task after hearing the artillery speak. All Ignacy could think of was how to get Elzada out of the city faster, and whether Marco had already been evacuated. He did not feel so much fear or horror; death in battle was a natural end for all Wolfkins, but the sheer worry threatened to turn him blue in the snout.
And the worry subsided when they heard a distant howl, very faint, but so familiar. Its sound rippled through the Wolfkins, wounded and healthy alike, robbing them of all despair and promising that all had not been in vain. Ignacy remembered the time when Dad and Mom brought a true luxury home: an actual gigantic cake to celebrate the New Year. On that night, there were no fights; sisters did not dominate brothers; Mom rushed everyone to eat before the chocolate on the cake melted; and Dad just looked at them proudly and explained how to use forks.
Bogdan’s laughter was in that howl. Dad’s encouragement. Mom’s love. Death was on its way to Houstad. And the Blessed Mother answered it with life. And reminded of all that has happened and of the future yet to be, the Wolf Tribe has started howling, laughing, and beckoning the foes to come closer. Drawn into the maddening fury of a sudden urge for life, Elzada and Ignacy both added their voices, surprising the surrounding allies.
Let the Horde come. The time has come to break them.
****
"What is that?" Janine asked, cringing at the sound of chitin scraping against metal behind her.
Chak and Anissa decided not to postpone their reunion until later. Janine tried her best not to grab the bastard by what passed for a nape and smash him against the floor for daring to come near her sweetheart, let alone hug her. But everyone deserves their bit of happiness, no matter how degenerate it may be. Instead, she focused her attention on the thing in the harness.
It was power armor. But unlike any she had ever seen before. Where Janine's previous armor had to be fitted to her body piece by piece, this one could be put on like a suit. It was slightly less bulky than her original armor, the lenses were the same red as before, and an emblem of her pack proudly adorned the black breastplate. Janine took the helmet by the chin to see if it opened wide enough and well enough, and was shocked to find no sockets.
How does it connect with the implants? The warlord wondered, tapping on the steel. She expected it to bulge, at least slightly, but the armor plate held. Curious, the Wolfkin increased the pressure, slowly becoming amazed at the durability of the strange alloy.
"Please stop trying to ruin the beauty; thank you very much," Chak said, coiling around Anissa. They rubbed their foreheads, and Chak continued. "The previous model only slightly enhanced your physical abilities. A pittance, really, but that's because you were already a freak of nature. A Normie wearing your old armor, if he could fit into it, of course, could fold sweet Anissa here in half. The beauty…" Chak’s long tail moved, caressing the metallic arm. "… will increase your strength and speed far better. Developed by Till Ingo, this is only the first model in the series designed for the Wolf Tribe. Its HUD is immune to most known types of EMP, and its communication systems can establish solid communication links for over forty-two kilometers, pushing through most jamming. Solid stone, steel, spatial disruptions—all hardly matter! The lenses can discern the heat sources of an individual organism even through the thickest sandstorm. Night vision, spatial anomaly detection—these oculars are no longer simple lamps. The armor heat resistance is enough to allow you to waddle comfortably through a searing fire capable of melting a tank".
"Yes, but where are the cables? The plugs to connect to the implants?" Janine asked confusedly, running a finger along the implants around her collarbones.
Anissa freed herself from the coils and approached the armor, examining it. Frowning, the two women exchanged glances.
"Mom’s right," Anissa stated. "This thing is useless if it is unable to work in sync with a fighter. It will end up being more of a hindrance in high-speed combat. You might as well offer us a foot soldier's exosuit."
"Oh ye of little faith!" Chak said smugly, approaching closer. One of his legs pointed to a black cloth on the floor. Janine picked it up in her paw, confused by the fabric. It looked like leather but was as soft as silk. "It's called underarmor MK. 2. Put it on and then gear up."
Janine did as he ordered, took off her clothes and tried to put on the small looking piece of cloth. She expected to hear the sound of the fabric tearing at any moment, but the underarmor spread out like a body glove, pressing tightly against her body but never restricting her movement. It covered her from neck to ankles and wrists, and the warlord looked down, unsure where the zips were.
"It's completely comparable to the armor’s recycling systems," Chak said, misreading her confusion. "So feel free to piss and sweat any time you are in the armor, not a drop of moisture will be wasted. Okay, now put the armor on. And no helping!"
Still as confused as before, Janine took the thing in her paws. Following the instructions, she opened the chest plate first, removed the gorget and began to put one leg inside, feeling the intricate design of servo motors and muscle fibers closing around her leg. Where before such things had been slightly loose, providing extra padding and space between armor and flesh, these felt like a second skin.
"Where is Till Ingo?" Janine asked, tucking her arms into the sleeves.
"Observing. Researching. Ideating," the voice boomed from the ceiling. "You have brought me quite an interesting gift, warlord."
"Gift?"
"Yes, this… Your name is Mehmed, right?" A wordless groan filled the compartment, followed by a plea to end his misery. "Yes, his name is Mehmed. Why are they always suicidal at first? Oh, no, my life is over. And in a few years, none of them will even remember their words," the scientist grumbled with annoyance. "Quite frankly, this is the first time I have ever witnessed this level of cyberization."
"Really?" Janine checked the backpack for her armor. "Haven’t you met Reaper? Or Lyudochka?"
" I have met the criminal, and frankly, the two are nothing alike. Believe me, Reaper still has over sixty percent of his body underneath all that steel." The hissing sound of a welding machine followed Ingo's words. "This case is obviously less. And I can hardly consider the ambassador human at this point. Pardon me for not being present; I am doing my best to understand what sustains the brain and to ensure its continued survival. There is much to be learned here.”
"Kill me. End this suffering," Mehmed’s voice pleaded.
"Hush, student! Don't make me ask a therapist for help!" Till Ingo told him coldly. "Nobody dies in my care. Once my research is complete, I will pay for your restoration, and you will atone whatever crimes you have committed by working for the nation’s benefit."
"Restoration?" Mehmed’s voice got distorted.
"Yes, yes, a completely vat-grown body," Till Ingo replied, along with a sound of clinking metal. "I won’t promise it'll be as good as your original body, but you'll get used to being a Normie. As a fellow Normie myself, I can assure you it is not too bad, the need for rejuvenation injections aside. Warlord! Bend over and touch your toes! Release your claws! Jump!"
Janine obeyed, testing the limits of her new power armor. It felt amazing! The sturdy armored plates hardly hindered her movements at all; in fact, they all but felt like secondary skin. The HUD screen seemed wider than usual, and its translucent gold lettering did little to obscure the view.
Janine grabbed the Taleteller from Anissa’s paws and created a net of cuts and thrusts with her trusted weapon, enjoying the muffled sound of servomotors and the pleasant stretching of muscle fibers rubbing against her skin, slowly adjusting to her body type. An upgraded version of a commander’s helper immediately appeared on the screen, warning the warlord about her wounds and recommending several weeks of recuperation.
"As if we have time for that!" She laughed, preparing to turn it off, but the machine only blinked an acknowledgement and disappeared from the HUD. "What?"
"The Wolf Tribe will find modern software much more to their liking," Till Ingo said with a barely contained smugness in his voice. "It's not a VI and it's far from being an AI, but give it time and teach it a bit and you won't notice any difference. And…"
The Wolfkins missed the rest of his words. They felt it. An increased heartbeat, pushing the blood faster. An electric tingle running down their bodies. Almost physical paws gripping their shoulders in encouragement. And anger. So much anger at the invaders.
Janine wanted to kill. No. She had to kill something, and preferably right now. She could almost feel the Spirits’ gazes on her, urging the warlord to battle. And she and Anissa obliged, storming past the confused Chak and saying nothing to Till Ingo. War! Slaughter! Hunt!
"Hunt!" The mother and the daughter roared in unison, sensing the Blessed Mother's awakening and her anger at the lives lost.
They charged out of the crawler, witnessing how the mobile fortresses had started to move and how the last trucks with civilians were moving to exit. The packs split. Part of them—the youngest and most fertile members—will leave, ensuring the Tribe’s survival. And the oldest or most powerful members will stay, ready for slaughter.
Janine watched as Alpha stormed out of the mobile fortress, leapt a solid thirty meters into the air, and continued to charge across the rooftops toward her position. Her HUD showed her Reaper sneaking through the sewers toward the ambush point, all alone and as deadly as any Warlord. The cameras showed Janine Onyxia as the wreathed-in-shadows warlord weaved around buildings, not heading to the front lines but rather going to another site of slaughter, accompanied by Anji.
Ygrite sat on a throne made of broken crates, grinning and waiting for her own prey. The warlord took residence in the audience chamber leading into the half-abandoned complex belonging to Ingo’s corporation, looking lazily at the thick iron walls and dangling her leg like a cub in anticipation.
Janine’s pack was saying their own goodbyes. Impatient One had found Elzada and Ignacy, quickly blessing them before rushing to her post, soon joined by Anissa. Wolf hags whose packs were chosen to fight roasted those whose packs were to leave the city, promising to settle everything in a domination match when they met again. Kalaisa’s HUD showed her standing in front of her siblings in the crawler’s shadow. The rest of her pack stood nearby, ready to leave Houstad.
"I can never ask forgiveness for what I have done to you," the wolf hag told them plainly. "Nor do I deserve one. I was a shitty leader, a terrible sister, and a wicked human being. But I can at least offer up my life, earning you time to live on without me. Giving you at least a ghost of a chance to be happy. This much I can do. Lead the pack well and try to forget me," she told her sister.
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"Should we wish you a good death?" the scout asked sarcastically.
"And let bygones be bygones?" the brother added.
"You think this is it?" Kirk asked in a shaking voice, struggling to look at his sister. Unable to fight the fear, the male looked down. His siblings put their paws on his shoulders, and he continued speaking, clenching his fists. "What, you die and make us feel sorry and forgive you, K… sister? Fuck that! Live! You don’t get to get off the hook so easily! Live and remember all you have done! You want to atone?! Keep on trying to become a better person! A dead person can’t make amends! A dead sister is worth nothing but grief!"
"Grief…" Kalaisa whispered, and Janine almost switched the HUD’s view to see if the woman was smiling. But she didn’t dare, leaving this one private thing to the woman. "Thank you. I know I don’t deserve it, but thank you so much. I just got the urge to live again."
"Don’t just live, bitch; hurt them!" The scout grumbled.
"Oh, don’t you worry about that, sister. I am itching to do some killing." Kalaisa growled, and the two groups separated. Kalaisa hurried off to join the ambushes around Houstad, and her pack joined the escort.
And throughout the city, the scene repeated itself. Old grievances were either forgotten or set aside, heartfelt apologies were made, and hugs were exchanged. With ringing laughter, rivalries were announced as the Tribe marched to battle. And no one thought about death anymore. Not even Janine. A colossal weight had been lifted from her heart, letting something akin to joy and hope to seep through, when a faint, distant howl reached her ears.
Let the Horde come. Janine howled to the heavens, her voice joined by thousands more.
And come they did.
A wall of flame rose to the west, the flaming tongues licking the very clouds themselves. Sensors and cameras bypassed the intense heat, and drones came from the sky, allowing the officers to see rows of infantry and heavy vehicles moving, pounding black clouds of dirt. Like approaching thunder, the sound of tens of thousands of armored boots and countless working engines announced the Horde’s arrival. Hover bikes flanked the horde, preparing to charge the moment the wall fell. In the sky danced sky strikers, waiting for their turn. As of now, they have lazily hunted down drones, shooting them down with an occasional burst of automatic fire.
Iron Lord led from the front, standing between two mobile shield carriers. In place of his destroyed halberd, the man found glaive of equal size and raised the weapon in silent threat. The carriers around the front lines had activated their shields as the first Horde’s troops entered the killing field. The Horde’s heavy breakers, square-shaped tanks with a single, long main gun barrel, fired their main cannons, and the energy balls rolled across the field, creating breaches in the minefield.
Brood Lord stood proudly atop a battle tank, his upper body encased in an ivory-colored power armor; the visor of his helmet revealing a grinning face beneath. His two hind legs grew back, looking thicker than the old ones. With his huge sword slung over one shoulder, the khan gestured carelessly. In response to his command, hulking shapes stepped forward, revealing themselves to be Malformed who had joined the Horde. Taller than Brood Lord himself, these giants walked on their knuckles, which supported oversized and misshapen bodies. Their shoulders were warped, the wicked mutations of their tribes created gaping mouths filled with half-rotten fangs where clavicles should have been.
And out of these mouths they unleashed streams of sickly liquid, and the flaming wall parted, allowing the streams to reach as far as an artillery shell could reach. Droplets of acid began to cover the ground, resulting in both clearing the field of mines and eliminating the rest of the hidden surprises as the acid ate its way underground, detonating deeply buried explosives.
And behind the Horde it moved. The superweapon that had wiped out the settlement. Dwarfing even the crawler in size, it looked more as if someone had put a mountain of scrap and junk on the once pristine and proud form of a gigantic turret and now dragged it after themselves.
Drozna. Heika. Phaser. Janine saw none of them as she joined her unit, keeping an eye on the confused Jacomie. The captain wore a large power armor that made her stand three meters tall and carried an armor-piercing machine gun in her arms. And her entire unit joined the defensive position at the bridge. She refused the woman any explanation and waited for Dragena's trap to sprout.
How do you deal with someone who can teleport? Dragena took all three new breeds with predictive power from the emergency services, made them sweat as she laid out her plans for them, provided them with all known information, and demanded an approximate percentage of success. Not satisfied with the result, she also put analytic officers of the Investigation Bureau, interrogated prisoners day and night, and commandeered several of Till Ingo's experimental computing processors. The scientist's curses were something to behold; Janine even learned a few new words from them, but Dragena had gained an almost complete picture of Phaser's character and how exactly he wielded his power, deducing his limits from the research.
The warlord’s plan was simple. The Horde liked to use traitors to aid them, so Dragena created one by capturing several high-ranking members of crime families and organizations from among who had refused to offer their services to the state right away. After some negotiation, these terrified men and women ‘eagerly’ agreed to aid the state in exchange for clemency. They contacted the Horde. And gave them a set of coordinates.
The first invaders emerged from an open portal in the sewers, fifty men in power armor. Their leader walked up to a crime boss and had his neck sliced in two while the boss turned tail. Reaper turned to the others and started his grim business. The next incursion took place at the hydroelectric plant. Not one, but three groups appeared in its corridors.
It was here that the plan encountered its first difficulties. A group of sixty soldiers calmly positioned themselves behind cover, ready to kill the invaders as they came. To their woe, the first to step through the opening portal was Drozna. Bullets and laser beams struck his sturdy hide, drawing some blood but failing to penetrate deeply. With a single, wide sweep of his huge arm, the new breed tore four people apart, splattering the fifth like a fly against a wall. Drozna pummeled his way through the guards, leaving behind corridors filled with crimson as he roared an empty warning about betrayal. Jamming systems were already online, and the trap was on.
While the first group failed to stop Drozna and his men, Slaughterer laughed gleefully at those who appeared near the entrance and Lacerated One turned to the people entering the command center.
"A meager offering," the supreme shaman said. Her claws slashed, deflecting bullets meant for the engineers, and screams of pain followed.
All around the city, similar scenes followed. Chak raised himself to full height, shielding his engineers when the attackers appeared in the crawler’s hangar bay. The Malformed had his chitin body riddled with bullets and ended up being thrown at the control panel, almost accidentally dropping a half-assembled tank at the ambushers. With six out of twenty raiders smashed, Chak’s tail struck, throwing people off their footing, and his coils started closing around seven more, squeezing the life out of them.
The chief quartermaster screamed, shaking in pain as more bullets pierced his back. His life was ultimately saved by Jaquan Kruger and his bodyguards, who arrived just in time to finish off the remaining attackers.
Ygrite smirked, beckoning Heika closer, when the assassin appeared right in the middle of the minefield. Stepping down from her makeshift throne, the warlord walked down, priming the mines and denying entry into Till Ingo’s facilities.
"Are you the one who harmed my girl?" Ygrite cheerfully asked. "That’s grudging."
Heika looked around, gestured to her troops to stay inside the portal, and turned to face the warlord. Still dressed in her clown attire, she wore both her and her brother's masks fused into one. The daggers spun in her small hands, and the clown bent low. The doors leading out of the complex closed, locking the fighters within, and the lights went off, leaving Ygrite’s lenses being the sole source of light within.
"The game is on." Heika snarled.
Another portal opened, releasing raiders before the already-emptied fuel tanks. Their leader raised his hand, stopping his troops and checking a nearby tank, shouting for an immediate retreat.
"Hello, little lambs," Kalaisa murmured, jumping off a tank and weaving around the incoming gunfire. She landed on the leader’s head, twisted it away with a single cruel motion, and jumped away, her claws activating the explosives the raiders had brought with them. A series of flaming flowers appeared in her wake, claiming lives.
Not everywhere the situation went as planned. Janine observed how several mercenary groups and even former members of the Assassin Guild met their match, either being outright destroyed or dying fighting against the raiders coming out of the portals. Several wolf hags and scouts died; their bodies were hacked apart and stomped into bloody mush. Then the enemies spread out through the city and continued their sabotage.
As cruel as that was, so far everything had gone within acceptable parameters. They had no way to protect everything, and with the citizens evacuated and the most vital facilities defended, the enemies can be hunted down like insectoids later. The most important thing was...
Janine’s HUD showed her the command bridge. A tear appeared on it, allowing Phaser to step forward. The man gleefully ripped bullets out of the air with his claws, shattering reality itself in the path of his weapons. He passed an operator and lightly touched a human-sized terminal encased in an armored casing. The device fell apart, split in two, and the operator rolled away. Before Phaser could kill the woman, the doors opened.
"I need to kill you without touching your claws?" Dragena asked no one in particular, advancing at the shocked foe and aiming the energy rifle. "Easily done."
Phaser made a cut, creating another tear in front of the incoming searing heat. The man jumped away, trying to put some distance between himself and Dragena. She took a single step that covered several meters in a blur and closed the distance to Phaser, pausing in concern upon seeing his black lips parting in an evil smile.
With a gesture, Phaser had opened a portal above Dragena, allowing stone to pour down. His claws struck, aiming for the woman’s neck. Shattering the space itself, ten claws slashed into the empty air, missing the warlord because of a well-timed dodge. Phaser screamed in pain, recoiling back when a knife sliced off two of his fingers. He glanced around and bared his teeth, seeing the operators flee from the bridge. Dragena gave the man just enough time to fully realize the situation he was in and fired at him again.
Schalk’s unit went dark, their IDs disappeared, and the soldiers retreated away from the crawler, hurrying to hide within the city’s streets. No matter, they had a pretty good idea where the bastard was headed. Jacomie visibly shuddered when Cristobo spoke on the communications.
"Soldiers of the Reclamation Army!" Captain Cristobo announced it from the crawler. "We have identified the traitors. Schalk is hereby stripped of his rank of lieutenant. Every loyal soldier of the state is to kill the bastard on sight."
"What… what is going on?" Captain Jacomie asked. "Warlord, first we took a different defensive position than Warlord Dragena’s ordered, and now…"
" Forgive the deception, Captain. I myself only recently learned of Captain Cristobo's survival." Janine put a paw on the captain’s shoulder, heading on to the battlefield, with the captain hurrying after her. "I don’t know the full details either, but it seems Dragena and he were busy flushing out the traitors."
"DEVOUR THE WORLD!" The Horde’s warriors boomed their battle cry, shouting at the top of their lungs, their voices amplified by the dynamics of their armor.
The Reclamation Army let their actions speak for themselves. Cannons unleashed ordinance, and missiles rose from the wall, coming down at the advancing army in the arc. The very air trembled, and Janine saw people nervously stepping from leg to leg when a flaming fall advancing on Houstad became a riddled canvas when the heavy artillery shells flew past it.
Explosions blossomed across the horizon. The shells detonated against the energy shields, sending shards of metal and hissing sparks of energy everywhere. Next came the missiles, spreading the napalm around the enemy shields. The flame burned and whisked off the shields, absorbing them into the moving wall of flame. Again, the heavy ordinance came, this time punching through several shields and sending armless and legless remains of humans into the air.
But where a dozen fell, two more took their place. The Horde fully lived up to its name; its ranks were endless, advancing like a mixture of golden and black streams upon the defenders. Some volunteers cried out, falling into the trenches when the enemy’s artillery started barking back. Janine looked at the people, allowing her impression to soften at the side of a trembling mercenary no older than twenty years old.
Dragena positioned Janine’s soldiers on the bridge leading into Houstad, forming the very first line of defense. The massive stone structure ended up being wedged between two thick walls. Bunkers and pillboxes were hastily constructed all around the road, with deep trenches dug amidst the concrete, allowing soldiers to have additional cover. A mix of soldiers from the Third and volunteers awaited the enemy, all under Janine’s command.
Ignoring the incoming shells, Janine walked over to the soldier, not even batting an eye when explosions started testing the city’s shield. She lifted the young boy, checked his weapon, and made him secure the helmet on his head, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Some panic was understandable. Mercenaries of the Core Lands were expected to deal with a random gang or put down a sneaked-in monster. Not to fight in the real war.
"This is your home!" Janine shouted, coming in the middle of the bridge, the axe high above her head. "A place where you raised your cubs, a home that you have worked so hard to build up! A safe haven in the world of madness and insanity, a testament to human dignity and honor! When the world came at you, and demanded that you bow down and become as savage as the rest of us, you spat in its face and chose the path of mercy and understanding, standing united regardless of the appearance, status, or faith! And now these bastards dare to come and steal this from you!" She raised her voice, letting it become a roaring tornado. "I say no! I am a product of savagery and cruelty, and even I refuse to allow Houstad to burn! What about you? Will you stand aside?!"
"NO!" the volunteers screamed back, joined by the soldiers of the Third.
"If any of you were drafted against your will, now is the chance to leave." Janine raised her paw, lowering her voice. Explosions were still struggling with the shield behind her back. "No one will judge you. As a soldier, it is my duty to protect this city. If you are not part of the military, you have but one obligation: live and prosper. And the state has failed; I have failed to give you this opportunity. Yet, standing here, I ask you to join me in the mad and deadly battle ahead, which will see many of you dead and even more wounded physically and scarred forever mentally. Knowing this, I, Janine of the Wolf Tribe, ask you. Please join me in the defense of Houstad."
"Janine." Jacomie stepped forward, checking her weapon. "There is no need to ask. As you said, this is our home. And no single person can carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. We are staying."
"All my life, I’ve been killing people for money," said a former member of the Assassin Guild, toying with a knife. "Might as well kill for something of worth for once." The blade stopped in his hand, and the man smiled. "I’ve skinned a couple of hordies already. They die just as easily as any other human."
"Meh." A half-woman, half-machine stomped forward, moving on pistons in place of her legs. An unblinking green ocular replaced one of her eyes, and most of her hair went gray with age. The mercenary captain smiled warmly, and an autocannon the size of a human’s torso moved on her shoulder. "Me and the boys had worked our asses off just to earn citizenship for ourselves. And now the city just gave it to the rest of our families for free. I’d rather see the place stand than return to our hellholes. Doggie, Janine, Warlord, whatever. Almost everyone here is either a hardened killer or a former soldier. Some may wet themselves, but all will kill. Not a bad company, I say." Several Malformed and convicts let out a laugh at these words. "Give the word. Let’s fight rather than waste time on this cringe."
"Thank you." Janine bowed to them, and when she looked at the people again, she saw soldiers. Numbers to be placed in key positions to bleed out the foe rather than the citizens to be protected. She straightened and pointed the axe at the approaching soldiers. "You are right. The Horde is coming. Let us be their doom! Not a single one gets past us!"
"Doom to the Horde!" The troops cheered. "No one is getting past us!"
Mad Hatter stepped out of the wall of flame. For all Janine’s bolstering, for all her promises to protect this place, this person, this giant woman dressed in rich furs and wielding twin golden scimitars, was death itself. It wasn't a matter of possibility. No, the one who walked across these ravaged fields was all but invincible to them.
Cristobo spotted her right away, redirecting every weapon at the enemy. Energy cannons, artillery turrets, missiles, even grenade launchers sending off poisonous gas—they fired it all, creating a sphere of destruction around the Khan of Khans. Whole swaths of land were torn and vaporized; sand turned into glass; her lungs inhaled poison potent enough to melt flesh off a person’s body with a mere touch. And still she walked, unharmed and undamaged, save for a few fires on her sturdy furs. Gold jewelry melted off the woman’s hands, bringing her no discomfort; her leather cap became ashes, letting everyone see the raging eyes bleeding red.
Mad Hatter advanced. Her arm disappeared, turning into a blur, and the air propelled by her slash smashed aside the incoming projectiles. The air slash continued to move, splitting the field and slamming into the shield with enough force to overload several generators. Janine herself felt a tingle of fear as she watched the shield bulge under the sheer force of the air. It held, for now.
But the Sky’s Avatar continued to advance.