Big Sis!

Ravager bared her lips, showed her fangs, and stuck her head deeper under the armpit, unwilling to wake up. There was some peace in dreams—rarely, but it sometimes happened. Staying awake brought her nothing but never-ending misery. A constant throbbing pain within the skull, so strong that it felt as if her brain wanted to come apart. A need to lie—to pretend to be someone she never meant to be, someone she could never even potentially be.

The whole Tribe, all her offspring, looked to her for guidance. And she tried at first. She had gathered them and made them sit in the pits she dug in the ground when she left to find food and water in the dead world. Upon coming back, she saw the same picture. Girls dominating boys, clawing themselves bigger portions of what she had brought. She tried to stop this and nearly killed an offspring. Ever since then, Ravager has kept her distance from the young ones, slowly seething with anger that all her lessons had led to this.

She wasn’t meant for leadership. Ravager understood this by watching Cristobo, the Dynast, the Twins, and Devourer. Where she immediately let her claws do the talking, punishing anything she considered evil with pain, they calmly solved the problem. Their punishments matched the severity of the crime, never going overboard. So what if a boy stole a piece of meat from a girl? Did he really deserve to have his arm torn off? The burning shame of her deed made Ravager fall into an even deeper slumber.

Mistakes, mistakes, and even more mistakes. She didn't want it all to end like this. Cubs, lesser parts of her own, grew up to be rowdy. Not knowing how to keep the bitches and bastards from killing each other, Ravager tried lying. She gathered them all and told the stories about the Spirits—these sweet lies she and the others had invented in the laboratory to cope with the terror. The amber-eyed beauties listened to her words, sitting close to each other without conflict, and back then she foolishly rejoiced. They listen to her! Maybe she can make them good! Turn them into someone who won’t be bad like her!

And in a few years, her heart broke. A whole religion was born based on lies, based on the delusions of tortured souls—delusions that should have been dead and forgotten if not for her! Ravager wanted to rage; she wanted to kill, but how could she harm the offspring? They weren’t her sons and daughters, but they were borne out of her genetic material. Even without blood ties, the Dynast had entrusted them to her care. If they had turned into monsters, it was her fault, not theirs! And so she tried to contain them, creating more and more lies, molding the Tribe into a weapon to protect the weak, and robbing countless generations of Wolfkins of their happiness.

And worst of all? The people viewed her as a hero. Someone to be inspired by. When in all reality, Ravager was a monster, a self-deluded maniac who often snapped and killed people, not because the nonexistent Spirits told her to, but because she was screwed in the head. How many offspring did she stab or pop to death?

But not all was lost. She saw it. The more Ravager stepped away from the Tribe, the more she let them solve the problems on their own, the better they would become. Slowly, but she didn't dare rush them. Females were getting softer on males; her lesser copies learned how to write, how to use the Net, and how to wield power armor! Ravager herself could not do these things normally. Her brain was a marvel, and when she put it to work, any problem could be solved in nanoseconds. But thinking only brought more pain. The day will come, not today, not even in this century, when the Wolf Tribe will be happy and normal and she will be forgotten. As it should be.

Big Sis! Get up already!

She ignored the shouting and drifted into a deeper sleep. When dreams came pouring in, she became scared of relieving the memories about the laboratory and of that lie when she was good. But then she looked around and smiled.

Snow cracked underneath the mighty paws, melting from the heat of her body. Ravager walked toward the group of people, licking off blood from her claws. Normally she would have been calm, observing her surroundings with curiosity. Rather than seeing the same desolated wastes, filled with irradiated sandstorms and the ruins of once great civilizations, this place looked like heaven itself.

They were on top of the world! One of the highest mountains in the world, its peak proudly rising above the clouds, forcing the Normies in her group to breathe through respirators. Some nearly choked anyway, and she had to rush the fainted soldiers back. A sun shone brightly above, bringing not scorching heat but soothing cold. Thick clouds swirled around the peak, occasionally revealing the tops of other mountains.

And everything was covered with the white blanket! Normies explained to her that this thing was called snow, a kind of frozen water falling from the sky. She didn’t believe them at first and grabbed a heap of this snow. Her sharp eye picked up thousands of individual ice crystals, all merged together and melting so quickly. But how could ice be so gentle to touch? Ravager didn't understand, and frankly, she didn't care. Ignoring the mission at first, the Commander squealed like a kid and jumped into the pile of snow, making an image of an angel with her large arms. Only Janine’s cough made Ravager remember where they were, and the group climbed up.

Someone else was trying to get ahead of them. They found out several killed beasts, misshapen piles of bodies, so wildly different from the most Malformed. Terrific opened a few bodies, frowning at the sight of perfectly made insides. Three hearts, arranged in a triangle across the chest, could ensure the body's survival even if two of them failed. A brain encased with a secondary skull. Some had acid in their blood, others had poisonous fumes strong enough to make even Terrific's legs wobble. A bone exoskeleton protected the elastic limbs.

This wasn’t a mutation. Someone had tinkered with the tech of the Old World. It became self-evident when they had encountered more and more attack. Terrific had to stay and guard the passage against the advancing hordes, to give the group a modicum of safety.

On the way up, Ravager sent Janine ahead and went about her usual business. The beasts whimpered and mewled, coming at her with an array of acid, claws, and fangs. Deep down, they felt fear, and she saw fear and desperation in their compound, warped, and simple eyes. Ravager could taste the horror in the air. Today, she would probably try to spare them. These were children, broken and used children, just like her. So much potential, and all broken.

Ravager of the past showed no mercy. She ripped and slashed, bit and devoured, shocking the Normies in her group. Sickly yellow blood flowed copiously onto the stones, staining them. Their claws broke against the monster’s hide, and acid merely hissed on her fur. There was no escape; both sides fought to the last, and Ravager reached the peak, leaving hills of dead bodies behind and lakes of frozen blood.

She should have been happy. An easy mission, nothing serious. But then she saw. Janine’s cub, the first one to survive out of her litter. The boy thrashed on the ground, and Ravager was on him in moments, pushing the mother away and using her brain in full. She saw the problem immediately; the clumsy and crude implants went into overload mode, igniting the nerves rather than transmitting synapses into his exo-suit. The boy literally exploded, his flesh igniting faster than Ravager could claw out the faulty implants. Janine's mournful howl snapped her back to reality.

The plateau hadn't formed naturally; this much Ravager had gathered already. On their way up, she saw several roads carved out of rock and empty huts embedded in the caves. People had lived here before something killed them all, unable to reach the top. On the north side of this rocky plateau was a small wooden hut and a group of people wearing elegant, thick overalls with the image of a spreading tree on each.

This was how Ravager met Iterna for the first time, although she didn’t know about their country at the time. She stepped forward, gesturing to the grief-stricken Janine to stay behind. Unlike her son, all Wolfkins in the group wore several thick fur coats, wrapping layers and layers of warm clothes around their bodies to shield from the cold. Ravager herself wore none. Her eyes scanned the battle scars on the summit. Janine's coat was riddled with bullets. No. Not bullets. Tranquilizer darts. Several Wolfkins lay on the ground, but none of them ended up dead, except for the poor boy. No need for blood vengeance so far.

And their target stood behind the people. He was a Malformed. His gray skin hung like sacks from overly big limbs; both of his knees were bandaged; and he moved around with the help of a nearby person. Ravager sniffed the air just to be sure, catching the smell of pus and open wounds, but her mind had already come to a conclusion. He was the source of the nightmares flooding across the world. A first new breed whose power can affect every living being. A first apocalypse unleashed.

She stood up on two legs. Two years. This is how long she spent walking on all fours, crawling around the abandoned facility, searching for a way out, before the Dynast found her. The transformation had changed her, making it unpleasant and even painful to walk upright. However, her liege always berated this choice of posture, making Ravager walk like a human, insisting it was better to show status and build up bridges between people.

“Hand him over,” Ravager demanded, holding out her paw. “Otherwise, death.”

“Please!” A teen jumped ahead, the cowl of her suit torn away, revealing long blonde hair pulled back in a bun. “This was an accident!”

“There is no more need for fighting. No more need for further deaths.” The Malformed pushed ahead, falling on his knees before Ravager. “I won’t be a tool for your state. I will never use my power to harm another living being. Kill me if you wish; just stop attacking others.”

Ravager hesitated. The Dynast’s orders were clear: retrieve the object or a person responsible for the world’s turmoil. There was a certain sense in it that, wielding such control over dreams, the reunification could be brought about more painlessly. Through the use of drugs or good old-fashioned torture, a person can be broken, Ravager herself was living proof of this. But… resorting to slavery? This was a step too far, even for a monster like her.

There was no choice. She has a duty. What the big man wants, the big man gets. For the sake of the majority, some members of the minority must make some sacrifices. The Malformed comes with her.

“We can help him.” the girl stepped forward, holding black tonfas in each hand. Ravager looked her over, surprised by her determination. The fool has actually prepared to face against her! She glanced over the well-built arms and legs, the tough chest, the almost ideally formed cranium…

And froze, listening to the words about the girl’s country, about how this country had a means to contain powers, even seal them. All interesting information, especially about a land that supposedly survived the Extinction. The Dynast must learn of it. Ravager’s breath increased, she took a step back, remembering that time, that beating that had robbed her of her only chance of escaping, and about the person who had sent her back to the laboratory.

“Eugenia…” she said slowly, tasting every syllable, fighting between a desire to run and an urge to rip and tear. And the girl stopped talking, realizing who stood before her.

Why? Where is the justice in this world? The pain struck her brain, making a trickle of blood come out of her nostril. Why is she standing here, dressed in good clothes, surrounded by the people who stepped forth, ready to shield that fucking brat from her righteous vengeance? Why is there such pure, genuine remorse in her eyes? And why does Ravager feel fear?

“I will not return to the Room,” Ravager growled, the aggression emitting from her like a wave, the sound of her voice causing snow fall off the cliffs. Janine and the others fell on all four, held back only by the Commander’s will. “You can’t enslave me again.”

“It’s… you,” Eugenia pushed forward, stopping the teen, the same fucking teen from that night, from holding her back and gesturing for all to stand back. “I am sorry. I am so sorry for what I have done to you.” Her voice broke. “I didn’t k… no, I have no excuse.” She let go of her weapons and pressed both palms to her chest. “Please. Please let us help you. If you wish, you can slice me in half, or I can go to prison for life. Planet is my witness; I deserve nothing else. Just please come with me. People in Iterna can help you.”

And Ravager believed her, recoiling in pure horror at the offer. All her life, she had followed a simple ideology. A monster is born a monster. This is why she got dragged into the laboratory. The very fate returned her back, punishing the misbehavior and giving her a desire to change the inevitable. Happiness, family, a life of peace—none of it was meant for the likes of her. Only death, slaughter, and more pain awaited in the future. Out of spite, she cheated this fate, choosing to wield the murderous talents to save people rather than sink to the bottom, but the core of that rule remained unchanged.

The world spun, spearing the brain with a jolt of pain, bursting veins, and causing blood to flow freely out of the nostrils. Her fangs clanked, tearing a chunk off her lip in the process. Ravager did not care, trying to process the situation, daring to believe that perhaps Outsider and the Dynast may had been right all around. Could it be? No, no, false, wrong, unthinkable! If there was a shred of goodness in her, a piece of hope, why didn’t anyone rescue her from the Room? Why did she fail at making the Tribe something to be proud of?

A crack in the air snapped Ravager from out of her reverie. A long and dark line stretched across the space above the plateau, shattering the very air and opening a portal leading into some hangar. The mountain shook and avalanches came down when a massive mechanical machine jumped out of the opening and landed on it. Shaped roughly like a human being, it stood some twenty meters tall, its legs were thicker than buildings. Steel armor plates reflected the light, shifting and allowing an impressive array of weaponry to come out, all aimed at the standing people. Energy claws the length of a battle tank flashed upon the giant hands.

And from the opened portal, more and more creatures, which had assailed them before, poured out, skittering, clawing, and simply running down. They hit the ground in a stream of living flesh, circling around the legs and forcing the Reclaimers to retreat closer to these Iternians.

A light came to life in the robot’s chest, focusing the projectors on the mutant. Ravager had faced such machines before, destroying maddened intelligences that threatened humanity. Every single time before, they had attacked immediately. This one waited. And Ravager calculated.

They called her stupid. Outsider and Devourer considered her to be an idiot. The Dynast knew better, but even her sole friend breathed exasperatedly, often sitting next to her and pleading with her to think and at least learn how to write and read. The man who burned entire families for corruption committed by their parents had berated Ravager for being too bloodthirsty on a field of battle.

Right now, primarily as a result of the shock at Eugenia’s unexpected appearance, she had taken their advice to heart. The amber eyes examined the barrels, calculating the approximate radius of their shells and the shockwaves they could produce. It should be possible to protect the group from being hit. Next, she looked at the elegant and deadly energy cannons and frowned. Not plasma. Lasers. And Ravager wasn’t faster than light.

Not yet, anyway.

“Hand over the mutant, freaks!” Two voices laughed from the cabin.

Ah. I see. Ravager looked at Eugenia with a smile, licking off the blood off her snout. The mission was a failure, but there was a chance of achieving something good, if only to spite the unknowns, that is.

“You can help him?”

“Not me.” The girl shook her head, answering truthfully and unknowingly passing the Wolfkin’s test. “People in Iterna can. His power won’t hurt anyone e…”

Ravager quickly leaned forward and rubbed a mark into the Malformed’s cheek. Her drool didn’t just leave a mark on the skin; it went all the way into the flesh, engraving itself on the very DNA, forever linking the two by a bond only she could feel. No matter the distance, if the Iternian lied to her, she would find him.

“Take him and leave,” Ravager said, stepping in front of the teen. Shielding the old enemy. The one she swore to kill. What has the world become?

Eugenia opened the so-familiar portal with her power and stepped inside, leading the Malformed after herself. The mech advanced, sending tremors with every step, and the Wolfkins charged after Ravager, eager to face the enemy. Strangely, the Iternians followed them, joining the attack rather than fleeing.

What a weird day it was.

Wake up already, Commander!

Ouch. Ravager actually felt that kick. The little sis’ claws opened the skin on her ankle. She grumbled, annoyed at being ripped out of the dream, and fell into another right away. She found herself standing in a tunnel, around half a kilometer long, created when she cratered Eugenia through the solid tons of rock and metal. The Elite gasped for air, sitting amidst the rubble with her cloak in tatters, the visor broken, and the nanomachine armor desperately trying to repair itself.

In the years after she met Eugenia, Ravager hunted her down at every opportunity. They had a score to settle. When Eugenia and her team were busy retrieving lost technology from the underground bases, Ravager would meet them, breaking the blonde again and again. When the Reclamation Army and Iterna met each other in combat, Ravager and Eugenia were there, clashing and trading lightning-fast kicks and punches. After each defeat, Eugenia came back stronger, her body growing bigger, almost like she had a reversed gift of Ravager’s. Where the Wolfkin thrived on victory, this one got stronger from defeat. Thirty-seven times, Ravager counted, they faced each other, and always something or someone held Ravager’s paw from ending this woman.

She wasn't sure exactly what was stopping her paw. In their initial encounters Eugenia was weak, frail even. She had to be saved by Artificer and the Iternian military, but several times the Wolfkin had the woman dead by rights. Ribs shattered, legs twisted, arms turned into pancakes, and her pelvis pulverized. It would only take a mere twist of a claw, and the vengeance would be done. Yet something kept Ravager from doing it. Time and again, an unexplained fear would drive her away.

During times of peace, Ravager would sneak into Iterna, hungrily watching the Elite. The woman lied; she had to! But the Malformed ended up being happy; Ravager found him via the scent mark. His name was Brur, and he had a family now! Uncertain, she knocked on his door, introduced herself, and spoke at length with Brur, trying to find even a hint of falsehood or perhaps brainwashing in his words. But no, Iterna did help him; it sealed his power and released him. Ravager later had to escape when the police, called by neighbors, arrived, but the fact remained. Iterna kept its word. But could the same be said about Eugenia?

She kept sneaking around, sniffing everything she could. The woman worked day and night, preventing every catastrophe she could in Iterna, even rescuing cats from trees. She made public speeches, fighting against prejudice aimed at new breeds. She visited the sick and wounded in the hospitals, spoke words of encouragement, prevented suicides, and risked her life to save people from slavers. The Elite delivered humanitarian aid to the struggling settlements and accompanied ambassadors on missions of peace.

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The woman was a contradiction. Eugenia, a wicked, sick, blasted, cursed, unworthy, sadistic girl, had transformed into a magnificent, kind-hearted, wise, loyal, and hopeful woman. Where Ravager fell, Eugenia ascended. And if one monster can ascend, if one person can be redeemed and atone, why can't another?

Ravager forgave Eugenia, let go of that part of her life, and tried to change. She wasn’t a coward; if she was wrong, then so be it. She spent years trying to mimic Eugenia’s path. But her speeches sounded like bubbling piss, and people were afraid of her gifts made of slaughtered insectoids’ and raiders’ corpses. Sometimes something would click in her brain, and instead of taking the criminals or raiders alive, a berserk fury would descend upon her, always ending with Ravager standing amidst a sea of crimson. When she tried to help the Tribe by making them stronger, she accidentally created skinwalkers and killed several rowdy offspring. Soon, hate took over. Hate at the fact that nothing worked. Hate at her offspring for clinging so stubbornly to foolish beliefs. Anger at the inability to change anything. Change for the better was not for her.

After raging for a year, the realization hit her.

Geni was meant to be good! This is why fate dragged the woman back to the path of light, knocking Ravager back into the darkness. So simple and clear. Just look at them. Geni, so beautiful and well-built; her hair is like a second cloak, her skin smooth and free of scars, and her round face radiant with kindness and understanding.

Now look at Ravager. An ugly beast stomping around on four legs, a crazed berserker striking fear in enemies and allies alike, leaving trails of corpses and cannibalizing human remains. Covered by fur and uglier than most Wolfkins. When she looked in a mirror, she failed to see even a trace of the young girl she once was. Gone were the humanoid features; bulges of muscles replaced them. Organs split, regenerating faster than ever. The snout jutted forward, creating jaws long enough to make any alligator choke with envy. And she could live with all that. What Ravager could not and would not live with were her eyes. Filled with anger and spite, refusing to retain the innocence and kindness she once had. Not a trace of her old self remained, not a hint of that kind voice that guided her during the first days. That girl died, buried by the mountains of corpses and cruelty created by the monster. And the strongest of Wolfkins understood what she must do. Monsters always get smitten by angels.

“You held back,” Ravager accused Geni, prowling around her on the metal floor. She felt a little tight in the chest; two of her ribs ended up being turned to bone dust beneath the Elite’s fists.

“The pot calls the kettle black.” Geni coughed out a tooth and grinned. “Where were your claws today?”

“Don’t need them,” she barked, crushing the ground with her fingers. “You will never beat me like this, weakling. You must fight with the intent to kill behind every blow! Put your soul into it! Let the hate burn! Get up! Use your portals to throw me into space again, bisect my body with them, and…”

“There is no need for me to fight you to bring about the resolution in which we both live. Listen to the sounds above. The battle is over,” Geni replied plainly, slapping the ground beside her. “Let us sit and talk. I can get us something to eat if you like.”

The world shattered. Geni refused the course that fate had charted for her! How dare she! If an angel won’t smite a monster, how can a monster ever be free? How can a monster die, pay for its mistakes, and be reborn as a human?

“The people are in danger! Our Tribe is in danger!”

The amber eyes opened, filling the cave with a yellow light. Ravager rose to all fours and met the gaze of her reflection. Zero. Her sole success.

In the past, Zero had been a menace. Upon learning about her connection with Ravager, Zero pushed herself to the very limit, breaking her body and the bodies of others on the quest for power, obsessed with the dream of matching Ravager. Male, female, it mattered not; she tried to dominate everyone, suffering crushing defeats at Alpha’s and Dragena’s paws. Until one day, she went overboard and mauled Dragena.

Little remained of the cub, who brutally tortured Dragena and contested with the others, breaking bones and spirits in equal measure. The little sis became a good person; instead of a cruel frown, a gentle smile now decorated her lips. Aside from the friendly sparring matches between the warlords, the woman never touched her fellow kin with a claw or a fang. Zero worked overtime, aiding the Exiles and the Crippled in any way she could, hunting skinwalkers and freeing souls trapped in monstrous bodies.

The little sis took care of her appearance, always combing her fur and hair, washing herself clean, and always wearing elegant and practical clothes, like her current black uniform. It covered the woman from her neck to her ankles, and the silver buttons combined with Zero's void-colored fur and the black clothes created a pretty look.

What? What exactly have I done right in raising you? Ravager struggled to comprehend. She dimly remembered how she was ready to kill Zero after the girl had maimed Dragena. But… A kind voice spoke within, calming the rage and convincing Ravager to try something else. And she could not remember what. But she changed the little sis. She. Her one and only true good deed.

Of course, Zero wasn’t without flaws, but then again, who wasn’t? Zero abandoned her quest for power, purposely bottling up all the rewards granted by it, all because her clothes wouldn’t fit her if she grew up! Rather than relying on the trusty claws, Zero believed in long-range weapons. And she refused to have cubs! Ravager dared not know a male; all too often the madness would descend at the most random moments, but Zero had chosen a female in place of a male to be her soulmate!

Ravager didn’t approve of this aberration but said nothing, feigning acceptance. Everyone has a right to be happy. During the Betrayal, she even tried her best to save them both… She bit her lips, forcing herself to stay away from the clutches of the memories.

“Situation?” The commander demanded, picking up human bones from the floor. Slavers from the Outer Lands. The fools had planned to smuggle a large group of kids out of the Inner Lands. Ravager made them tell her everything, then she collected all their accomplices and feasted before falling into a slumber. Ravager planned to weave femurs into her fur when Zero laid everything down.

An invasion. A howl escaped Ravager's lips, causing an avalanche in the snowy mountains she had chosen for her retreat. Zero raised her paws to shield her face as the howl ripped away her black uniform, leaving the Wolfkin only covered by fur and leather straps holding guns and knives. The howl went on, opening the cave by pulverizing the stone and sending a missive into every corner of the Core Lands. Zero scowled at witnessing two of her pistols crumble in their holsters. With a sigh, the warlord put on the helmet and checked the rest of her weapons.

“Mind giving me a ride back to Houstaaaaaa….” Zero’s words turned into a shrieking scream when Ravager’s paw closed around the smaller body.

And threw her, sending her clone across the sky like a comet aimed at Houstad. A distant ‘Fuck yoooo…." followed Zero’s flight.

Ravager stepped out of the cave and pushed her perception to the highest level. The falling stones turned almost still, moving impossibly slowly. Droplets of water falling from the slowly melting ice caps became suspended in the air. The Wolfkin rocketed her neck, fixing vertebral positions. The tortured brain screamed in agony, but the chains of duty tightly wrapped around it, allowing Ravager to maintain control. Her people. In their darkest hour, she will be at their side, sane and ready to fight. This much she could do.

The fingers dug deep, splintering the stone floor, and Ravaged leaped, covering dozens of kilometers in a single jump, outspeeding the barely moving Zero, piercing the clouds, and flying faster than a projectile from a rail gun.

She saw the surface now. Armored columns led by the Dynast himself were heading toward Houstad. His elite guard, the Nameless, marched around the massive vehicle in the middle, ready to guard the ruler with their lives. In a day, they should reach the destination, bringing the wrath of the Reclamation Army upon all who dared to threaten it.

The Dynast marched ahead of his armies, and with him came the reserve forces of the Reclamation Army. Hundreds of mech suits, precious artifacts from a bygone era, were unleashed from the armories. Graceful, multi-legged battle machines stride confidently among the reinforcements, armed with anti-matter weaponry. Pitch-black orbs containing the enigmatic and deadly technology of the Old World floated above the column. And more! The Dynast held nothing back; the sheer might he took with him could damage the Core Lands irrecoverably.

It must not be allowed to happen. Human lives are important, but the great work all around them, the restored life, must be preserved above all else. For that is the gift to all future generations. She flew on, finally spotting an armored convoy of this so-called Gilded Horde on its way to Houstad.

Like a fallen meteor, the commander’s body crashed into the leading vehicle, killing the entire tank’s crew with her mere torso. She stepped out of the ruined vehicle and brought her claws to bear. Metal, flesh, and bone were all nonexistent obstacles. People and their giant animals, these thunder bulls, died faster than their brains could register her presence. She didn't bother to kill everyone; the shockwaves from her movements and the ignited vehicles ready to explode would be more than enough. Opening an armored truck, Ravager saw a group of chained people inside. Slaves. Captive citizens.

This complicated things. The air following behind her blindingly fast advance could easily rip the poor souls asunder. But stopping wasn’t an option either. She adjusted her advance, calculating the angle at which the sonic booms would be spread out, and started cutting chains, bypassing the prisoner not in a blur but in a fiery line. Ravager could almost feel how Outsider and Devourer yelling at her, calling her crazy for even attempting this.

Good thing Ravager never had a firm grasp on sanity. The first person taken by her paws ended up being carried safely outside.

When she was done, the confused prisoners found themselves sitting at the edge of the road, tanks and trucks exploding before them, creatures falling, and sonic booms throwing corpses and chunks of metal in the air. Not a single prisoner ended up being injured.

Most of the malnourished and beaten into submission slaves fell on their knees, witnessing Ravager standing in the explosion, flames harmlessly licking the body, forming demonic wings spreading behind her back. But several people recognized her and cheered.

“Stop yapping around!” She snapped at them, returning to the normal speed. “Into the forest you go! Hide until the state comes back.”

“Yes, ma’am!” With a smile, several members of the Provincial Army helped the other citizens stand up, picked up a few machineguns that appeared before them, and rushed toward the forest. One of them looked back.

Of Ravager, there was no sight. She didn’t linger even for a second. A second was like an eternity for a being like her. You can kill dozens within a second; you can turn the tide of battle in this short span of time. Move. Plan. Murder. Exterminate.

She hit another convoy, sending a tank into the clouds with a kick. Retribution is here.

****

Mad Hatter could not be stopped. The woman walked unharmed through the fires capable of vaporizing a warlord alive. She did not shudder when the shells the size of her body smashed into her. The khan’s steps tortured the very ground, making swaths of ground rise up and shield her forces as they advanced steadily on Houstad.

They held nothing back. The Reclaimers fired every weapon they had; the crawler sent rockets and missiles, creating a zone of unlife around Mad Hatter. Munitions filled with white phosphorus exploded above the woman, bathing her in the fire. Plasma spheres blasted the ground beneath Mad Hatter's legs, turning the edges of the fifteen-meter crater to glass. And she walked out of it, unstoppable; even her furs withstood the unleashed hell.

Explosion after explosion hid the woman from the defenders’ eyes; massive columns of black smoke reached the sky; and the sheer force of the ever-expanding propelled air pushed the flaming wall aside. The ground shook and thundered as tons of deadly ammunition rained down. Guided by the advanced systems, armor-piercing rounds fired from the railguns struck the Sky’s Incarnate into her eyes, finally knocking her back a step. Sniper teams joined the fray, firing laser beams or piercing projectiles at the enemy.

Janine dared to believe upon witnessing how Mad Hatter stumbled back and a black and crimson mushroom rose about her, entirely hiding Mad Hatter from the view. Even sensors and drones’ optics failed to track the woman. Surely nothing could survive in that hellish mix of chemicals, fire and superheated gas?

A single cut bisected the mushroom, pushing aside the smoke, projectiles, and swaths of ground aside. The air screamed, slamming into the shield around Houstad with the force of a flying skyscraper. And Mad Hatter herself was almost unharmed. A single streak of blood left her left ear, a minor cut appeared on her cheek, and her short brown hair billowed like a halo. But otherwise, she was unharmed. Invincible. Unstoppable. And her advance continued.

The warlord folded her arms over her chest. She had felt the same despair once when Blood Graf had wiped the floor with her. What was impossible in the Old World had become an everyday reality. Years ago, she had been saved by Eled and Predaig, who rushed her to the hospital, and the Blessed Mother had stopped Blood Graf.

Janine stepped forward, dropped to one knee, and pressed both paws together. On the parapets above, Marty mirrored her move. Hesitantly, Alpha followed suit. Ashbringer and Onyxia were the last to join the ritual.

“Spirits,” the warlords allowed Janine to lead this simple prayer, united not with fear but with concern for the soldiers under their command. “Hear your children.” Mad Hatter’s air cut slammed into the shield again. The woman kept advancing, moving deliberately slowly to instill a sense of helplessness in the defenders. “We stand guard against mad, tyrants, and all evil that threatens to return the world back to savagery. By following your teachings, we have learned skills to compete with others in this noblest of tasks. In passing through your trials, our bodies and souls have been tempered to endure the heaviest of losses. But an hour of desperation is upon us. We beseech you, Spirits, send us strength to carry out your will!”

A sludge of acid and toxins came from beneath the ground, soaking Mad Hatter wet when the woman stepped into one of the many traps around the city. It washed off her like water, hissing lightly at her clothes. The scimitars danced in the air, turning away ordinance and bisecting energy beams in half. Missiles and rockets exploded in the air. The generators screamed, shutting down one by one, unable to endure the mighty swings. Cristobo had already ordered the depowering of whole sections of the wall, rerouting energy to the most vital parts.

And it wasn’t enough. Nothing they had was enough to stop this foe.

“Fall in line or be cut down!” Mad Hatter laughed, and her voice, raw and harsh, sliced through the explosions and reached the ears of every soldier on the wall.

The black clouds of smoke in the sky were pushed aside, allowing the yellow disk of the sun to shine its blissful rays upon Houstad. And through that opening, a figure leaped forward and rolled down the shield. She landed before the main forces, standing tall and proud on her four legs in the wake of the approaching champion.

The Blessed Mother came.

Both women looked at each other, raised their arms, and the chaos stopped. The Horde stopped their advance, the fire from the battlements ceased. Calmly and without worry, they came to each other, acting like long lost sisters. Ravager sniffed Mad Hatter all over, and the Sky’s Avatar returned the favor by curiously examining her opponent.

“Prey,” they said together, baring teeth and fangs.

Ravager’s voice sounded clear, collected, cool. Nothing reminded Janine of a maddened beast from the battle against the Techno Queen. Her movements were smooth; the shoulders spread, and there were no twitching paws. On the verge of defeat, the Blessed Mother pushed through her troubles, standing at her prime, divine and perfect, just like she had been in the battles against Vasco and the Blood Graf.

The two stood unmoved, their bodies relaxed, and only predatory smiles betrayed the restrained aggression. Mad Hatter’s blood clotted, and the woman broke the silence.

“Strong. I can taste that. Did you make a deal with God to get it?” The khan asked.

“Never heard of him.” Ravager scratched behind her ear with her hind leg. “What you see is all mine and all in the service to the Dynast and the people bequeathed to his rule. But I have heard of a group called the Godsworn, some bastards who kill people for fun. Kind of like you.”

“Where are they?” Mad Hatter demanded to know in an ironic tone.

“No idea.” Ravager let out her claws, trimming her hair with them. “I ate the last member of their merry band I came across.” She waited, studying the woman's face. “Is that why you came? To find this God of yours? Is he their leader? You could have simply asked instead of invading. I could’ve even helped with the search.”

“Asked? Like a peon?” Mad Hatter’s smile grew wider, and her fist clenched the scimitars’ handles. “Do I look like someone in need of help? Be it the ground or the sky, no one stands before me! The weak whimper and beg. I am nothing like them! What I want, I conquer. Whom I hate, I kill. The strong command, and the weak obey. Those who lose can only blame themselves for being weak enough to be trampled by the strong.”

“Children have such adorable imaginations,” Ravager chuckled. “The strong exist to ease the way for the weak. Such is our duty. United we stand, divided we fall. But all right, Mad Hatter, let us play by your rules.”

“Children?” Mad Hatter returned the chuckle. “You dare call me a child when you're the one spouting such pointlessly idealistic nonsense?”

"Forgive the implication." The jovial gleam in Ravager's eyes turned to steel. "A child I would have spared."

They laughed good-naturedly, their heads held high. There was such genuine happiness in the laughter that Janine blinked at the disappearing aggression. Mad Hatter and Ravager acted more like friends than mortal enemies. The laughter went on and on, drowning out the working engines and generators and the groans of the injured and dying.

Janine almost missed a scimitar’s thrust. Mad Hatter’s hand simply moved forward, becoming a streak of light, tinted golden by her weapon. The blade’s tip pierced through the black form, kissing nothing but air. Ravager herself was already behind the khan, bringing one paw down in a titanic swing. Just like the commander, the khan disappeared, leaving an afterimage in her stead, and the two fighters engaged in a fight.

A sphere made of cuts and slashes appeared around the fighters, and the wind blew in all directions, immediately turning into a tornado. Swathes of ground were uprooted, and several of the Horde’s warriors were picked up and carried away like straps of leather during a sandstorm. The energy shields tensed, and the flame wall got whisked out of existence, revealing a fiery figure in the air.

Ravager and Mad Hatter continued to fight, dodging every incoming slash, punch, and kick like ghosts. Their bodies weaved around attacks; a cleave that should have bisected a body in two ended up harmlessly buried in the ground, spreading a line of destruction several hundred meters long. An uppercut meant to break a jaw only kicked up more dirt and rocks with the air pressure.

“Amazing,” First said over the comms, and Janine found herself in agreement.

They were still not serious; Janine could see that. Both fought with strength and speed far surpassing that far exceeded those of warlords, and with elegance and precision that eclipsed that of sword saints. Today, on this day of carnage, after all the grief, Ravager entered the fight as a leader and commander rather than a raging beast. And her opponent matched her.

“Feast, Blessed Mother,” Janine whispered, pressing a paw to the heart. She could feel it. Not exactly happiness, but a foreboding focus spreading from Ravager, a true dedication to duty. If a broken mind could push through madness, what excuse could they have?

In a heartbeat, hundreds of blows and feints were exchanged. Thrusts were made and immediately withdrawn; both fighters had been planning elaborate strategies and follow-ups on the fly, only to abandon them in an instant. These two did not think at the same speed as normal humans or even as most new breeds. A second was worth a day for them; their minds were far keener, allowing them to pick on the enemy's movements at the slightest muscle twitch. Twice Janine had missed witnessing such battles firstpaw, and while she felt truly honored to be here, she caught herself hoping this would be the last time.

Gods should not fight each other.

The sound faded, and along with it, the tornado. The fighters, these divine incarnations of the deities that had molded them, had created a zone of perfect vacuum around them with the sheer might of their yet-restricted blows.

Blades and claws started edging closer. Tufts of fur and strands of clothes came out of the blindingly fast sphere of death. The two had started to adapt to each other’s style; their eyes picked up the tiniest flaws in the movements. At any point now, the balance will break.

When it did, neither missed the first blow. The golden scimitar stopped dead from reaching Ravager’s heart, caught between two claws. Claws aimed at Mad Hatter’s lungs got deflected by a scimitar’s edge. And when the battle paused just for a moment, the air screamed, painfully sucked into the space between them. But as one attack was deflected, another followed. Shoving the weapon aside, Ravager made a quick thrust, opening the woman's chin all the way to reveal her teeth. Undaunted, Mad Hatter made her own move, slicing Ravager’s cheek to the bone.

The blades and the claws came at each other, locked by their wielders’ might. Mad Hatter’s face and Ravager’s snout ended up against each other, and the Blessed Mother has opened her jaws. The khan pushed the weapons aside, dragging Ravager’s arms along with them, and closed the jaws with a knee. The Mad Hatter smiled, enjoying himself, and the ground erupted around the two, nearly hiding them behind a thick wall of earth. The balance was finally shattered.

And the one who did not miss this moment was the Blessed Mother. A moment of smugness, a moment of enjoyment, equaled a moment of distraction. This was Ravager’s trap for Mad Hatter, and an upward swing moved, aimed to slice the Mad Hatter's face off. The woman leaned back to evade the claws, and the knuckles connected with the woman’s lower jaw, sending the khan of khans flying into the sky and adding a roaring inferno to the ejected ground.

Mad Hatter enjoyed herself during the entire fight. Ravager did not. Janine has finally understood this when the Blessed Mother leapt into the sky after the opponent. The reason was simple. Collateral damage. Should they fight here, win or lose, nothing will remain of Houstad. Vasco proved this well enough by vaporizing the captured settlement as a side effect of his titanic struggle.

Ravager and Mad Hatter clashed in the air. The khan never panicked after missing the blow; she relaxed her body, calmly waiting for the right moment to strike. And when the Blessed Mother reached her, the scimitars slashed, leaving a long, lacerated wound across Ravager’s arm. In exchange, Ravager kicked her with both legs, sending the woman flying north over the horizon. Spinning in midair, Ravager used the air itself as a springboard and followed her opponent.

Janine had no idea what was happening; she only saw a shockwave coming from the north, tearing up grass and destroying fields. Trees were uprooted, roads were destroyed, and barns were flung away. The city's shield gave one last groan, straining to keep the wall safe, and collapsed. Dozens of generators within it simply flickered and exploded, claiming the lives of nearby engineers and guards. But that was only a prelude, giving the faintest idea of what was to come. Someone connected with the ground, and the earth screamed, tortured by a foreign object spearing it.

A mountain range rose on the horizon, turning everyone equally pale. Pillars of water pushed from the underground, creating waterfalls that flowed down the stones. The water started hissing after several streaks of lava broke the surface. Fissures spread all the way to Houstad, hungry caverns eagerly devouring several homes. The ground continued to shake, announcing that the battle between the two demigods was far from over. A single drop of blood flew all the way from the battlefield, located dozens of kilometers away, and charred a line of destruction between the armies.

“Annihilate them!” Iron Lord roared, pointing his glaive at the gate.