Ion’s Gate
Zenith stared.
One moment he was briefing the new recruit and the next he was standing inside the market district with said recruit’s dead corpse. Empty fruit stalls and the absence of bustling crowds somehow made the bullet wound fresh from the head seemed like an ordinary thing to find in the apocalypse. Zenith then stood as he lifted up his hands to his comm, waiting for a few minutes before a voice entered. Metallic and cold. “Afternoon, NEM Operative 5612. Please state your business.”
“Patch me to…” He hesitated before he shook his head. Unanswered questions would only lead to unideal results.” NEM operative 4489.” Zenith responded as he checked the corpse one last time before making sure that the gunshot didn’t attract uninvited guests. There were no distant screams or nearby growls. His position wasn’t compromised. A miracle.
“Invalid request. NEM Operative 5612 you are not cleared to- “
“Override.”
“Orders confirmed. Patching to NEM operator 4489…”
He sighed. Looking at the apparent new Tail’s corpse, he surveyed his surroundings again as he held the M9 belonging to the Tail that shot himself in the head. The gun was normal. One bullet missing inside the magazine with no apparent abnormalities.
"Have you met the Tail we sent you?” Annoyed, ruffed, and seemingly wanting to end the ensuing conversation was what he received from the feminine voice to his comms. Zenith looked back at the ‘new’ Tail. For a moment, he tried to explain the situation itself before he sighed and told her bluntly instead.
“He killed himself.” Zenith answered.
“… And?”
“What do you mean ‘And’?” He exclaimed as Zenith stashed the sidearm, taking note to deliver it to the quartermaster later on. “We need a new Tail. Fast. 2nd division is KIA and that level 2 anomalous sector I told you about a few weeks ago? It’s a potential level 4.”
“Is that so?”
Zenith confirmed. “And about the new Tail your sending?” He paused. “Preferably one that has a suitable enough mental state?” He added.
“There’s a second storm coming after the 6th stronghold. Level 4. Thrall’s moving north to handle the brunt of it.” There was a pause.” Vanguard associates are predicting a large number of casualties alongside a potential destruction of a major city if we lose this time… The Independents, barring their leader, have made no moves to assist. As usual.”
“4th Division needs a Tail now.” Zenith growled. “We are on to something big here. The Asset we hired? Missing. My team and I cannot proceed without a new Tail- “
“Zenith. Your current Tail is nearing your position.”
He paused. Someone was running towards him from the distance. Zenith looked back at the corpse and at the person dressed in the same prison garbs approaching him. After a brief confirmation, He lowered his energy rifle and stood. “Where did you get a duplicator? I thought their kind was hunted down by Magnis in the 2nd Great War?”
“They were.”
“… And?” Zenith growled.
“He’s from the Other. You do not have the clearance to know more. NEM operator 4489 out.”
Zenith then waited as the person in front of him slowed down to a halt. Thin, malnourished, and breathing hard. Brown eyes same as the corpse below. “Level… Level 1.” The new Tail coughed.” Duplicator Level 1. S-Sorry for the misunderstanding…” The Tail then stared at the immaculate dead version of himself and winced. Zenith stared. “I forgot to give them orders on what to do when they actually find you… sorry.” Dark haired, prison attire, and an M9 identical to the corpse that committed suicide. Zenith had seen enough.
He raised his hands.
“Zenith.”
The Tail stared back, confused, and a look of surprise on his face before the Enhanced raised his own hands to shook his.
“Polity.”
Zenith’s eyebrows twitched.
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Louis followed his new ‘Head’ with caution. So far, the NEM operative leading him was dependable in traversing the terrains of Broken City B. They ventured odd twists and turns, going into alleyways and making a sharp turn and, right now, just coming out of a bakery shop. It went for hours but Louis felt it was as if Zenith was purposefully making it longer. He hid his concerns with an annoyed gruff and continued to follow him without complaint… Until they went back to the Market district where Louis met the strange NEM ops in the first place.
“Are… Are we lost?” Louise asked as he stared at his rotting corpse from the middle of the street. They were at an abandoned restaurant with Zenith sitting comfortably and rechecking his ammunition. Louis was standing awkwardly before the NEM ops nodded to an unused chair near him. With nothing else to do but wait for his apparent team leader’s judgement, Louis sat and waited.
And waited.
It wasn’t until it was half an hour that Louis decided to ask another question before Zenith raised his hands. Louis paused before noticing the direction Zenith was looking at. It was back towards Louis’ corpse. In particularly the two winged creatures that suddenly appeared near his rotting dead carcass of a body. Three others appeared as they seemingly popped into existence. They were small, akin to small primates. No skin, layers of muscle revealed to the world with bits of black-like patches around their physique. They inspected his body and after a few seconds of no response, they proceeded to devour his corpse. Louis looked away, muttered an apology as he gripped his M9.
“Winged Variants.” Zenith began. “Just as I suspected… we were followed.” He swore.” But we managed to lose them earlier. Luckily.” He heard him muttered before Zenith paused and gave him a wild look. “Can you make a clone right now? Silently? DQ level?” Zenith asked.
Louis nodded uneasily. “I can make one… silently, yes.” He added.” My DQ level is 4.” Zenith tilted his head, Louis explained quickly.” Every clone I make must be terminated after reaching a 1-hour mark.”
“I see.” Zenith hummed as the masked NEM ops stared at him for a few seconds and towards the little abominations outside.” Can you make one right now? I’m assuming with the same weapon as you have at the moment?” He then asked suddenly.
Louis nodded again.
“Do it.”
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Louis ducked behind an abandoned pick-up truck. He flinched every time a sound of flesh was being ripped apart as it resounded the market district of City B. He then spared a glance. The winged creatures that resembled disease-ridden monkeys seemed to not notice his position just yet. Louis held his M9 close to his chest as he took deep breathes to control his nerves. He was never an Enhanced designed for close quarter combat, but that doesn’t mean he can contribute to something.
“H-Hey… Hey!” He shouted. The abominations looked at him, surprised turned to anger fast as Louis immediately run away from them. Tried to at least. One of them was onto him, appearing in front as the small alien ripped the fabric of space and time and launching itself towards Louis’ surprised form. There was no time to aim and his current agility told him to roll under would be an exercise to futility. He trusted his weight instead. Malnourished and thin as he may be, Louis was taller and has momentum against the winged variant that was smaller and denser.
“F-fuck.” Louis grunted. Solid sharp claws trailing at his abdomen from front to side resulted to him losing a lot of blood and a considerate amount of his insides poking out. He held his entrails from one hand and shot wildly at the winged variant that missed him from his back while running. He sustained heavy wounds but he managed to block the thing’s claws from hitting any vital organs from his chest to his head.
He got lucky. He managed to run twenty more feet when the entire pack descended from him. He screamed as bits of claws and teeth inserted themselves into his flesh. One of his arms was thrown away as the two beast that held it roughly managed to dislodged and removed it. He screamed again only for his face to be mauled in return. Louis bit his tongue and held on until he felt shadow creeping in and darkness claiming the edges of his vision.
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Louise opened his eyes and moaned in pain. He gazed below. Ripped fabric applied to his missing appendages. His wounds were dressed and staunched half hazardly. Like it was only done to ensure that he survived with minimal comfort. There was pain, radiating pain, inside the gauzed and patched-up wounds. Infection managed to seep in it seemed. He examined his surrounding and tried to ignore the foul smell around.
He was in a cage. The kind that was reserved for animals. Moreover, there were bodies near him. All of them were in various stages of rot and decay. Outside the cage was a room full of meat hanging in hooks and there was a man, garbed in a butcher’s apron, wielding a knife as he chopped up pieces of meat and placed them inside a bucket. The butcher’s face was disfigured as if it was mauled with one eye missing. The man failed to notice him. Louis took that opportunity to scavenge the corpses around him. He managed to find a pocket knife and a spare lighter.
Then the doors opened and something large appeared. It was large, black, and grotesque. It looked like a larger version of the winged variant but with more fur intact and a gaze that held intelligence. Louis had saw enough. He positioned the knife at the skin of his throat and smiled grimly. He accepted his death and prayed that he had contributed something.
A hand touched his shoulders and Louis froze. He glanced back and found a younger face staring back. Brown-haired, sickly and pale but alive. A boy with tattered clothes and blue eyes looking at him with desperation and shock. Louis gripped the knife’s handle in his hands tightly and swore. He then hid it instead and waited.
Louis had no choice.
He must stay alive and wait for the opportunity to strike.
The original will understand.
“Fuck.”
The clone muttered.
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Louis frowned.
“What?”
“Nothing…” Louis responded as Zenith shook his head and crouched down unto a metal cover. They were on an alleyway. Discreet and away from the major districts. He kneeled down beside Zenith as the man asked for his assistance. He grunted and lifted the heavy man hole. Zenith raised his hand and Louis paused. Few seconds passed, the men then grabbed a small flashlight inside his utility pouches and proceeded to climb down on the ladder below. Louis followed after and slowly dragged the man hole outside to cover their entrance.
Zenith then used the beam of his electronic light to pave way for their path as they ventured forwards in the sewers of City B. There were sounds of rats and insects scurrying about as they moved with Louis at the back and Zenith at front. They avoided the center as he covered his nose from the foul and putrid smell of the sewer waters. “What was it?” Zenith suddenly asked.
“It’s nothing... I…” Louis sighed. “Were going to cleanse the infested Zoo we scouted earlier right? The winged… whatever those monkey creatures came from?”
Zenith grunted in affirmation.” Tomorrow. Afternoon.”
“Why not later?”
The man in front shook his head. “Sun is going down. Won’t be long before evening strikes.” Zenith then glanced back.” That altar you mentioned to me earlier? The one from the supermarket? It’ll resurrect the sacrificial corpse and bring a level 3 to prowl the streets and hunt for sacrifices.”
“I… I see.” Louis hummed. “So, demons at night and aliens at day?”
“And Rogues.” Zenith added.
“Rogues?” Louis asked.
“There are those who view the 8 strongholds as the source of their hatred and will attack us on sight. Most felt abandoned by the surviving cities. Some see the end of the world as an opportunity. Hence, be careful when you met survivors out here. Always be cautious if you don’t want your back to be stabbed and your body looted off.” The NEM operative paused and gave Louis a look.” Watch for their clothes, equipment, and weapons at hand. You got that?” Zenith added.
“Y-yeah…” He nodded back. They continued to walk the foul sewers with relatively no surprises waiting for them. The smell and the skittering rats aside, Louis had seen worse as he kept walking and followed the leader of the 4th division.
Suddenly, Zenith paused and spoke, “Migrant. You can end the loop now. Were clean.”
His eyes widened,” Migrant’s alive?”
“A piece of him.” Zenith responded as Louis watched the dark end of the sewer in front slowly faded away and materialized a new terrain. “Migrant was too important. Thrall managed to find his remains in the 11th stronghold.” Zenith proceeded to walk, unbothered by the fabric of reality slowly being replaced by metallic signatures seeping into the sewers. Louis hesitated before following the man. It was like waking up from a dream while you were sleep walking.
” Vanguard proposed to use Nightfall era tech to bring him back. NEM, for once, supported their decision.” Zenith added as the NEM ops nodded towards an entrance that looked like a cave. They both entered.
“This… this was the result.”
Civilization. At least the hallmarks of one. People dressed in tattered clothes huddled together in various parts of the cave-like system. Tents of various fashion laid in the ups and downs of the huge cave. “By the Makyr…” Louis muttered as he saw individuals carrying rifles with bulletproof vests eyeing both of them warily. Him more so than Zenith. They approached and Zenith waved them off. They complied but gave Louis a look.
“You… you experimented on the corpse of one of the greatest Heroes alive to make a… a mobile base?” Louise exclaimed. “H-How did Thrall reacted? Does he even know about this?”
Zenith looked at him strangely before answering,” Thrall is the head of Project Gate. Making a mobile base out of Migrant’s remains was merely the first step. The Cleaning Crew around the Broken cities were the first to reap the experiment’s success but Migrant’s main body parts are used in the 8 surviving strongholds so we have a fraction of Migrant’s power facilitating our operations. Don’t worry, it’s enough. Migrant’s corpse still carries his legacy.” The man then walked towards a set of stairs going down. Louis followed abruptly.
“What’s the next step?”
“Us.” Zenith answered. The NEM ops then looked around, watching the survivors staring back towards them. “I’ll explain once were inside our HQ. Some information is classified outside the main members.” Zenith added as Louis tried to follow his leader’s calm demeanor under the assault of uncertainty and fear aimed towards them. Maybe it was only him. He tried to smile back. To ease tension but what he received was a glare from a child and the parents of said child shielding him from Louis while also glaring back.
“Tough crowd…” Louis muttered.
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Adam watched as thousands of soldiers, men the walls, gathering in great lines as discipline is hammered with every step. The majority of them were NEM where every soldier belonging to the Non-enhanced militia were garbed in black and gold armor. City 6 offered its own militia as well. Theirs having more diverse set of armor with weapons of energy and solids were equipped under ragged and tattered clothes marked with the number 6.
He did not need to use his own powers to sense the hostility radiating from the two factions. It was a predicted factor. An unfortunate factor.
Accompanying them were enhanced individuals. Previous Heroes and Villains working side by side to stave off the inevitable. Blasters were beside the soldiers, Flyers were prepped and readying themselves down below, and Brutes were held at separate contingents as each of them huddled together to be teleported towards the enemy and back. He nodded in satisfaction.
Priests of the Makyr were chanting and giving prayers of resolution under the grim atmosphere inside huge tents just outside the city but far enough from the walls. He could see from the distance as soldiers and enhanced divisions kneeled down and prayed under the guidance of the Makyr by purple robed priests in platforms. One particular priest motioned for him. The man was garbed in the same purple robes and a sword at his hip. He noted the ceremonial insignias at the priest’s shoulders and the elderly smile towards him.
He gave the defenses and the units manning them one last look before descending from the clouds. Most notice his descent while others were too occupied with their work. Either way it produced the intended effects as morale increased with his appearance to the fold. He slowed down and touched ground as he faced the Makyr Priest.
“Thrall.” The priest greeted.
“Hollard.” Thrall responded.
The robed man tilted his head. “Your using the seer?” Hollard asked. Thrall shook his head as the priest gaze at him with confusion.
“You’re saving it?”
Thrall didn’t answer.
“Thrall… are you gambling the fate of humanity in a chance? Again?” The priest shook his head.” You nearly died the last… Migrant wouldn’t approve.” Thrall was silent. Laurence took it as a response and gazed at the battlefield instead.” This project of yours… what was it? Ah, Ion’s Gate? Is it worth it? NEM and Vanguard would definitely disagree… and I don’t think the Independents under you would either…”
“Were losing. Fast.” Thrall begun.” I can feel it, Hollard. The end.” He looked back at the units moving and working with a renewed vigor as his title as the strongest Hero alive ignited a spark inside Ion’s last defenses against the dark. “I haven’t encountered this… certainty since Magnis and I fought Thorn two and a half centuries ago.”
“What if we expand? Reacquire the Broken Cities?” Hollard asked, a note of desperation bleeding in his tone before the priest forced it down.
Thrall shook his head.” A Reclamation mission wouldn’t be approved. We are too divided.” He paused.” Even if we did, I am worried that the extremists under the Independents would take advantage of it. We cannot afford another rebellion erupting inside while we instigate an attack.”
“How about a Crusade? I am in good connections with the Makyr’s high council of priests. If it works, we could persuade the very heart of the public to the cause and reclaim the broken cities. The extremists wouldn’t be able to garner enough support that way.”
“And what of NEM’s control and Vanguard’s influence?” Thrall challenged.” You and I know that both are at each other’s throat since the first Great War. It’s only the mutual reason to survive that prevents an all-out war between them right here and now. If the Makyr’s court would play the game, how do you think would the two lions in a cramped cave would reply back?”
Hollard was about to respond before the priest paused and tilted his head as the man listened to the latest communication orders. “It’s time.” Thrall surmised as the priest nodded.
Adam sighed as Hollard ran back to the camps behind the main troops. He turned towards the walls, where he felt thousands of gazes staring back. They were expecting hope that he would deliver. He closed his eyes and felt two centuries of power surging through him. It rejuvenated him like an old friend offering an umbrella to his drenched state. He accepted it and guided it towards the center of his chest towards the farthest reaches of the ends of his fingers as he left the ground and slowly glided towards the walls of the 6th city.
When Thrall landed, he gazed beyond the walls and towards the approaching sandstorm. His eyes focused as he saw a figure garbed in desert robes clear as day. Thrall saw a malformed, twisted abomination staring back and wielding a staff that made even him pause. “So, they are adapting…” Thrall muttered as he felt the sand beneath the level 4 prime demon tremble and birthed legions of demons as their winged counterparts blotted the sky.
Thrall watched for a minute then slowly turned toward the people. To the last civilization of mankind approaching the inevitable. “I am sorry.” Thrall uttered before marching towards them as he began his speech to the masses of city 6 and prepared himself for another battle in a doomed world.
Ion’s Gate