A tall man in black walked slowly down a ruined street amidst the howls of monsters and the screams of their victims. Despite the leisurely pace at which he walks, his legs seem to halt ever so briefly with each step, and his entire body shudders on occasion.
Futuristic lamp posts lining the street flicker constantly, revealing a handsome face pulled back into a strained grimace, with blue eyes set in reluctant determination. While the wavering lights easily illuminate his tan face, they struggle to gain purchase on his impenetrably dark clothing. Yet what sorely limited light lands on him reveals a strange sight.
He wears a large cowled cloak, gauntlets, thigh boots, and a cuirass - all composed of numerous segmented plates. The materials of his armor and cloak are all indeterminable due to their hazy black form, with slight hints of eye-searing non-luminescent white peeking through deep between the plates of the armor. His outfit moves like in a constant wind and seems to lose its shape randomly, as if forgetting what it’s supposed to be.
While this man walks down the street, shadows lengthen and twist into distorted, nigh-incomprehensible shapes as he passes, the midnight air darkening around him, as if he was surrounded by an aura of dread that even light itself fears. This unearthly effect even begins to subtly twist street lights, vending machines, and even the concrete upon which he treads into nightmarish and impossible forms.
The man’s gaze, while determined, seems to be…somewhat vacant, as if he was focusing on a sense other than sight. Suddenly, his brow furrows and his eyes focus, while the shuddering of his body and the haltering of his gait ceases as he slowly comes to a stop.
Then, the tall man cloaked in ever-shifting shadows takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. As he does so, the warping of his surroundings begins to cease, before stopping altogether. The man’s outfit briefly twists and bends wildly, as if it had absorbed all of which warped the surroundings into itself. With his shuddering stilled and the warping ceased, the man opens his eyes, revealing a gaze of steely determination, and then - he vanishes, swallowed by the moonlit night.
----------------------------------------
My form coasts along a river of Nightmares, arriving at a beacon of terror and dread in the material world moments after it had appeared. While my body leaks into being, I quickly take stock of the situation that necessitated my arrival and my surroundings.
I’ve arrived in a dark corner of an alley, by a short man who’s entire body and outfit is grayscale. He’s wearing the robes of what looks to be a far-eastern vizier or something of the sort, although they’re stained dark gray by what appears to be monochrome blood, owing to the fact that his entrails are currently spilling from his abdomen.
Perhaps that alone would be the source of such terrible fear in a regular person, however, this man is evidently a Magical Guardian - as he bears many of the tells of those blessed by the alien entity “Zenith” who seek to aid Earth against the horde of extra dimensional monsters known as Anathema.
Not only does he have a bizarre complexion and clothes, but he also wields a large inkbrush as tall as he is, which notably seems to have no “ink” left - suggesting he’s out of mana and thus unable to cast any spells or use supernatural abilities. Giant gashes that leak an inky substance line the walls, while craters and scorch marks litter the once-immaculate street outside the alley. All of which are evidently signs of the Guardian’s supernatural struggle.
During this entire, brief time, in which I analyzed the monochrome man, his particularly ashen face has been staring in abject horror at the monster that wounded him so grievously and is slowly inching towards him, savoring
his Fear. The monster was over three meters tall with a slick, worm-like body covered in eyes and tentacles. Jagged shards of bone wrapped its pitch-colored body in a spiral pattern, each undulating motion grating blades of bone through the concrete like butter. A human face of indeterminate gender topped the slug-worm thing, the face gave a supermassive grin, revealing a gaping maw with dozens of human teeth, like that of a lamprey from hell, while it drooled saliva which hissed and burned the ground. The worm monster had numerous burn marks along its body, while there were a few massive gashes on its front and face.
Neither the monster nor the Guardian had noticed me in the brief moments after I appeared due to my choice to appear as an ominous patch of impenetrable shadow. With my quick reconnaissance finished, I reached out a metaphysical hand towards the monochrome man and Absorbed his overwhelming Fear of the monster and its tentacles, teeth, and eyes. While the man calmed down supernaturally fast, his Fear now affected me, to an extent, painting the monster in a far more dreadful light as my breath began to lightly shudder.
Using his specific Fear, I summoned forth a patch of oily darkness beneath the monster as it undulated towards the Guardian. Suddenly, a plethora of greasy tentacles spilled out of the darkness, each tentacle adorned with countless maddened eyes that rhythmically opened and closed impossibly large mouths overfilled with razor sharp teeth. The tentacles wrapped around the entirety of the truck-sized monster, with several entering the worm things mouth to block any acidic saliva, choking out a discordant scream of a roar.
The tentacle's teeth began chomping away at the monster’s flesh, popping eyes, crushing bone and gushing buckets of dark ichor even as it struggled in vain. Then, in the middle of their meal, the tentacles slowly pulled the horrible monster into the oily patch of darkness that spawned them. The only evidence left that the monster ever existed was the dark ichor and bits of bone that once furrowed through the ground. With my Silhouette having finished its grisly meal, I turn towards the heavily wounded Magical Guardian who’s fear both necessitated my arrival and brought forth the Silhouette which slew his foe.
The inkbrush man stares at the empty place where the monster once was in what seems to be shock, but is actually detached confusion as I had surgically removed his fear of the monster and its characteristics. His gaze is half-lidded and his monochrome skin seems to be even paler than before I dealt with the slug-worm beast. All in all a fairly healthy state for a man who should be dead, however I find this unsurprising due to his status as a Magical Guardian. One of the “Stats” that they have access to increases the durability and overall vitality of their body, allowing them to survive wounds that would end a normal person.
Unsheathing my body from the ominous shadows, I step out of the alley corner and walk up to the short man. He jolts and whips his head over to me before stumbling back into the wall behind him, staring at me in fearful confusion. I rein in my fearful magic to prevent any distortion of the physical world, clear my throat a few times, and then speak to him in a deep, clear and reassuring voice.
“Fellow Guardian, I mean you no harm. I noticed from a distance that you were in dire straits and thus decided to teleport to you. The tentacle abominations that dispatched that Anathema were of my summoning, I apologize for their horrific nature, but it’s simply the nature of my magic. However, that’s irrelevant, what is relevant though is that grisly wound of yours. Now, I am no healer, but I am capable of fixing up your abdomen, I cannot help with any other injuries however.”
The monochrome man blinks a few times, furrows his brow, and speaks to me in a halting rasp.
“Who…are you? What…kind…of horrible magic…is that? Ah…you must be a…Dark.” I nod, unwilling to contradict his conclusion. He continues. “Apologies for the…questions…I am somewhat…disoriented at the moment. My name is Wārudoburashi. Please, mend me…I don’t think…my Vitality…can keep me among the living for much longer…” I nod once more and then state “I suggest you close your eyes while I fix you up, Wārudoburashi, as you have already seen my magic is not exactly pretty and may be quite an unpleasant experience to witness. You’ll also want to grit your teeth and brace yourself, the only spell of healing I currently have at my disposal is rather painful, I apologize in advance for the pain you will have to endure. If it’s any consolation, I’ll make it quick, namely without sacrificing efficacy.” Wārudoburashi begins to nod, hesitates, and then nods again. He then slides down the alley wall, closes his eyes, grits his teeth and tenses up.
Seeing my patient ready for his “operation”, I reach deep into my mind, and grab one of the many stored Fears I keep. This specific Fear is that of a person who was traumatized by waking up in the middle of an important surgery and having to watch his body be rearranged - therefore useful for surgical purposes and the like. Releasing the Fear unto the world, I manifest the Silhouette of countless stark white hands grasping innumerable black surgical tools. The twisted hands quickly get to work cleaning Wārudoburashi guts, putting them back in, and sewing his abdomen and intestines all back together seamlessly. All the while Wārudoburashi is screaming and writhing in horrific agony, which suddenly ceases as soon as the Silhouette finishes its job and vanishes.
Wārudoburashi gasps, sweating as he opens his eyes and looks down at his stomach in disbelief. He pats down his abdomen thoroughly before slumping back and letting out a relieved sigh. Then, he composes himself and stands up, leaning slightly on his vastly oversized brush for support. He shrugs and stretches his neck before meeting my eyes with his own which have pupils that seem to be made of ever shifting ink. His brow furrows briefly upon meeting my gaze but he shakes his head and begins to speak - thankful and dignified.
“A thousand thanks for saving my life twice over tonight, sir. May I have a name to call my savior?” I mull over his request briefly, due to my usual desire for secrecy, but decide to answer him honestly anyways.
“My Guardian name, given to me by a few other of our Guardian comrades, is Last Hope. They gave me the moniker due to my ability to appear as a savior to those about to die. And, it seems, I have proven those old friends of mine right once more.”
Wārudoburashi’s eyes widen comically for a moment in what I believe to be recognition of my somewhat famous Guardian Name. He speaks up briefly, saying:
“Wait you’re -” He catches himself mid-sentence and composes himself once more, speaking again in his dignified, proud manner. “Apologies, I have heard incredible things about you, Last Hope. I was merely surprised that a Guardian of your tremendous caliber personally saved me from death’s unrelenting jaws. Nonetheless, I don’t wish to take up more of your precious time. This mass incursion won’t stop for any one man, regardless of how powerful they are.”
I nod, easily agreeing with him, before replying.
“Absolutely, the Anathema seems to be exceptionally ambitious tonight. This global incursion may be causing untold destruction, but by spreading their forces out so much, the Anathema aren’t doing as much damage to Earth overall as they could feasibly could. It causes me worry about if there’s anything particularly devious going on behind the scenes. Some individual Anathema may be dumb, but as a whole, they are incredibly intelligent, evidently rivaling even the Zenith that followed them here. Nonetheless, you don’t need to worry about my time being taken up, my Silhouettes are already active all around the city, preprogrammed to hunt the monsters prowling through the night.”
Wārudoburashi’s brow furrows once more, asking me: “What are you referring to when you say “Silhouette”? Is it one of those summons of yours?” I nod, idly wondering that I’ve done a lot of nodding tonight, then I respond.
“What I call Silhouettes are the manifested forms of my magic, their terrifying nature is unfortunately the result of the magical material I use to make them”
Wārudoburashi quirks an eyebrow before replying. “Magical material…do you speak of mana or something else? Ah, nevermind, It’s rude of me to question a fellow Guardian’s abilities like so, especially those of my savior. My apologies.” He then starts to give me a bow, before wincing in pain.
I then warn him. “Try not to aggravate what remains of your injuries, Wārudoburashi. I suggest you make your way to the nearest Guardian Command camp. I believe most of the Anathema in this area has been cleared out by both you and our comrades, regardless, take caution on your way to the camp, any corner could hold a monster in this incursion. As for your curiosity of my abilities, I won’t be offended by innocent questions like that, but I ask that you refrain from sharing what you’ve learned of them as they work best the less people know about them.”
Wārudoburashi slightly hesitates, before giving me a determined nod. Then he winces once more, as if recalling a bad memory, before responding. “Ah, yes…we cleared out most of the Anathema in this Usurpation Zone and closed it as per Command’s orders, but the rest of my team was called away to deal with an emergency of some sort, so I alone was left to finish up the monsters that remained.” Wārudoburashi looks regretful for a moment. “We…were unable to save a couple of civilians, and in my righteous fervor I failed to pace myself, leaving me to the whims of that slug monster without any mana as a caster…”
My gaze softens, and I reassure him. “We all have had moments like those before, friend. The Anathema's cruelty knows no bounds, and it’s only natural to be sorely upset at their actions. Regardless, you need to pace yourself in the future, let that “righteous fervor” of yours burn but do not let it control you completely. Otherwise you will play right into the Anathema’s claws by surrendering your rationality.”
Wārudoburashi then returns me a heartened response. “Thank you twelve-hundred times over, Last Hope, for your timely assistance and kind advice. I will be on my way back to the camp now, once again, thank you, and fare thee well.” I give him a nod and a wave as he speed walks off, with a slight limp and a vigilant gaze.
After he rounds the corner, I close my eyes and focus on my magical sixth sense, feeling the fear and nightmares of this sanctuary city of Eden as it attempts to rebuff but a small portion of a global siege. I analyze the diorama of fear painted in my mind’s eye, noticing that the siege seems to be going well for us defenders, any particularly powerful monsters have been dealt with or in the process of being dealt with by Magical Guardians and Magical Girls of equal total strength, while the injured are taken care of with due haste. At least, that’s all the information I can extrapolate through the fearful emotions and waking nightmares my magic can sense.
It is times like this that I wish I didn’t have to rely on my nebulous ability to sense fear, and that instead I was able to directly communicate with Guardian Command to get a lay of the land. Normally a Magical Guardian would have a line to Guardian Command either through their Zenith-granted System or through a magical device. Unfortunately, gaining strength through fear just like the Anathema as well as possessing magic that wasn’t granted by the Zenith is not a good combination for gaining trust with the aforementioned alien entity or the Guardian Command under them.
I cease my needless brooding for a moment to quickly check in on the various Silhouettes I scattered throughout the city to deal with monsters out of the sight of people, noticing that a few more Usurpation Zone’s have popped up - Bubbles of negatively-aligned mana called Miasma that Anathema call forth which they need to survive and flourish, furthermore, all of that Miasma interferes with traditional magic such as long-range communications.
It is then that I notice several of my Silhouettes gradually being destroyed, with a rapidly rising beacon of mortal dread near that area. The Anathema have painted the city black with terrible, primordial fear which allows me to perfectly travel from nightmare to nightmare anywhere I please in this futuristic island city. I then quickly decide to ride this veritable river of Nightmares into the area of dread where my Silhouettes used to be. I cover myself in a Silhouette of ominous shadows and then vanish into the unknowable river of Nightmares towards my destination, arriving in an instant.
I arrive in a tree’s shadow, in a verdant green park with once immaculate benches and sidewalks all shattered by the violence unfolding ahead of me. Wildly flickering firelight reveals a grove set aflame, a tall woman at the edge of the fire with long blood red hair in a ponytail and a matching outfit of armor made from jagged red scales trimmed with black. She’s making a fighting retreat away from a veritable horde of Anathema, setting them alight with crescents of magical flame shot from her flaming zweihander like the conductor of a hellish choir, as the monsters scream in agony. However, despite her prowess and elemental advantage the horde is gaining ground ever faster.
I recognized the monsters as Blade Reavers, pale white faceless monsters with a lithe body and four arms ending in deadly bone blades. Unfortunately for this set of horrors however, was that most Anathema had both a weakness and fear of flame which I could make oh such good use of…
I reach out with my terrible magic, grasping the fear of flame currently present in all of those Anathema and pulling it into myself. As I did so, the Blade Reavers lost any and all apprehension and began rushing the Magical Girl even faster. She swung her zweihander as fast as she could, summoned a storm of flame around herself with a mighty stomp, and with the roar of a dragon conjured forth her roiling red aura to empower her blows. But she would not last much longer, if my assumption that she was expending the last dregs of her mana was correct. So I got to work on the fear I just collected.
I stoked the monster’s fear of flame within myself, the fear of burning flesh, of an insatiable, unthinking, uncaring force of destruction much like the Anathema themselves, but directly opposed to their very life. I stoked the fear as it consumed my mind with visions of being burned alive, of running and fleeing oh so desperately. But it was all in vain, nothing would stop its hunger until I was nothing but a memory, ash on a foreign wind to be forgotten and lost. It ate away at my body, melted my eyes, scoured my flesh, and DEVOURED MY VERY LIFE AGONY please MAKE IT STOP MAKE it STOP STOP STOP W- WHY WHY -WHY AGHHHHHHH!!!!!! -
I open my eyes with a gaze maddened by terrible fear, spotting the horde of now hundreds of Anathema advancing on the exhausted and now downed Magical Girl, as they were now untethered by the fear I now held.
Incandescent HATE for all Anathema guided my horribly shaken will, and with a shaking bloodshot glare I focused on the monsters and gifted them my fear, Manifesting countless Silhouettes onto their misshapen bodies. All at once, dull white flames engulf each and every Blade Reaver, bringing forth a vast chorus of agony. The monsters break off in random directions, no longer able to form anything resembling coherent thought from the focused supernatural agony burning through their twisted flesh. Within the minute, only ash remains of what used to be hundreds of monsters.
I nod, satisfied with my work and glad to be parted with a particularly stoked fear. The woman on the ground stares at the empty space in front of her, in shock at the sudden and grisly end of her pursuers. However, within seconds she collects herself, places her blade on her shoulder and stands up. I walk up to her and call out. “Fellow Guardian, are you ok?”
She startles and turns around quickly, wielding her zweihander before halting herself and eyeing me with the wariness of a veteran warrior.
She responds with a weary but determined and confident voice. “Yes - luckily, I am uninjured and unharmed. Were you the one to set the horde on fire?”
I replied easily, glad that I managed to reach someone before they were harmed this time.
“Yes. I noticed you were in quite the situation and in dire need of assistance and thus rendered you aid. I apologize for not setting them alight sooner, my spell needed some prep time.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
She replies in a slightly more casual manner. “It’s fine, even if they got to me I would’ve been able to keep them off for a few minutes. My stats are geared towards more of an offensive tank role after all.”
I raise an eyebrow and reply questioningly. “Did you lure that horde out on purpose, what happened to your team? I doubt anyone of your level would willingly drag out that horde without a team at their back.”
The Magical Girl quickly replies. “Yeah I’m not a solo. Had a team at my back and they were harrying the horde from behind. But I think another group of monsters caught them off guard while we. We were culling their numbers pretty damn good until then, one of my abilities lets me pull the attention of monsters and with their full undiverted attention the casters on my team could whittle them down real quick.”
I then ask with a somewhat furrowed brow “Casters? With a plural? Ah, excuse me, I failed to ask your name nor give my own. I go by Last Hope, ironic as it may seem. What’s your Guardian Name?”
She starts to say something about her team before I introduce myself before replying back after brief confusion at my “Guardian Name” then replies heartily, although she can't quite hide the exhaustion in her voice. “Thanks for the save, Last Hope! Name’s Blaze Claw! Although, you sure made one hell of a more impressive “Blaze” than I could!”
I give a mild grin and respond. “Honestly, I kind of just took what fires you already made and replicated them onto the Anathema if anything. Regardless, the only reason my flames were so effective is because I was able to amplify and focus them on each and every monster. Also because I happen to be decently stronger than you at the moment, but you’ll be able to reach my level quickly with that grit you’ve got in spades. As long as you don’t die, of course.” Blaze Claw deflates somewhat at that last comment, but collects herself quickly before exclaiming “Thanks for the vote of confidence! But…you don’t need to warn me like that, tonight was a real eye-opener - I’d be a damn goner if you hadn’t showed up just in time. That callsign of yours sure does fit well!”
I give a sheepish grin at that last comment - ironic I may find it, this moniker I’ve found myself stuck with does prove itself true consistently.
I then ask Blaze Claw about her team. “So you said you had multiple casters in your team right? Actually, speaking of your team, do you know where they are now? I’ve yet to see any sign of them.”
Right after I finish my sentence Blaze Claw’s burning slit pupils widen incredibly, before she spouts - “Oh shit, oh fuck, I need to make sure they’re ok! Thanks for the save Last Hope, see you later!” She then hefts her blade and runs off and I call after her. “Hey! Will you be ok!? You seemed quite tired!” She replies with a concise yell “YEAH! I DON’T NEED MUCH MANA!” And then she speeds off into the distance while I go to lean against a nearby tree.
I let out a deep sigh and shake my head, before deciding to take a brief break while keeping a metaphorical eye on the fearscape in my mind. I then pull out a protein bar and a box of orange juice and then get to wolfing down my food as quickly as possible. The protein bar’s chocolate can only cover the protein-y taste so much but luckily my box of orange juice washes it all down excellently. I just wish the rancid scent of burnt monster flesh wasn’t so strong right now. At least this burnt forest smells nice.
Soon after I finished my break, I noticed the Usurpation Zone the park was in dissipating, signaling to me that Blaze Claw’s team probably made it out alright and got the job done. Scanning the fearscape, I don’t notice any overt threats, so I get to work crafting some Silhouettes from various miscellaneous fears and placing them around the city. From a fear of spiders to a fear of stalkers lurking in the shadows, each Silhouette is crafted with stealth in mind, particularly to stay away from people and hunt down monsters in the shadows. After all, my magic is rarely capable of creating anything less than horrifying. Especially because most of my Silhouettes tend to radiate an aura of dread due to being composed of fears made manifest.
After I finished creating various Silhouettes, I paid close attention to the fearscape in my mind, watching closely for anyone who could remotely use my direct intervention. Most of the civilians are in locked down bunkers and evacuation shelters, so those most in need of saving tonight have been Magical Guardians who found themselves on the wrong side of a monster’s claw. It is then that I feel it, a web of primordial terror to my north, near the center of the city and where the first Usurpation Zone appeared. Suddenly, a few of those nodes of terror wink out, like stars disappearing in the night sky. The sensation chills my very bones, as the only consistent and bright source of fear in this city is not monsters, but living, breathing people. With haste borne of dread I drag my body into the immaterial river of Nightmares, racing through the twisted dreamscape with unprecedented speed.
And then, I arrive at a scene of devastation. Once sleek buildings, turned to rubble. Compact and sturdy cargo containers litter the ruined streets, traffic lights by an intersection shattered and knocked over. Magic of all colors illuminates this scene of destruction, I notice a few colorful unmoving bodies scattered around the edges of the rubble and my blood begins to boil despite my heart skipping a beat.
In the center of all this destruction is the remains of what was once a Mana Power Plant, a magitech facility built by Magical Guardians with help from their Zenith-granted system shop. While the facility would look much like a regular power plant, the mana it produces is an extremely potent energy source and thus ripe material for Anathema. Right next to the power plant remains is a knocked over building of glass and concrete, with plants of all kinds spilling from inside - a vertical hydroponics farm if I remember correctly.
Inside the remains of the Mana Power Plant, currently being fought by a couple of Magical Guardian teams is a rare type of serpentine Anathema that had made waves a few months back after a few Guardians had underestimated it and died as a result. Yet even now, courageous and righteous souls have fallen to this monster despite ample forewarning from Guardian Command. I take a good steely look at the Anathema in question, and recall its description from a grisly news article I had read at the time of its last appearance.
“Unexpected killer: The Nightmare Mother Serpent”
“It is more worm than serpent, covered in comparatively tiny hairs from head to tail, this 100 foot monstrosity of a an Anathema casually tears through surrounding scenery with ease, any one of those whip-like hairs on its body strong enough to lift and throw cars, using multiple hairs compounds the effect to the point that it can throw entire buildings, and they can be extended in any direction up to half its length in the blink of an eye. It is extremely tough and magic resistant, as are it’s fibers which act as both a lightning-fast weapon and densely packed armor. The core body is quite soft, though getting to it is quite the challenge, requiring an incredible display of skill or immense destructive power.
It is not even intentionally a combat capable Anathema, it is both troop transport and a large scale harvester, using its flexible mass and shapeless mouth to disgorge and store any variety of other Anathema or resource at a whim. It is usually found on the back lines of higher level, entrenched Usurpation Zones, creating and reinforcing support structures, distributing other high level Anathema and tearing through critical infrastructure to get more resources for the hive nodes”
The monster itself is a storm of deadly hairs, which extend at incredible speed and whip through the air faster than the naked eye can see. There is a massive puncture wound on the central part of its body, but no other wounds are visible. High level monsters swarm the vicinity, evidently disgorged from the Anathema’s mouth. What attempts are made to reach the titan of a serpent must go through a horde of high level Anathema, preventing any from reaching it while it’s whiplike hairs shred through buildings and fling rubble all throughout the the battlefield, namely at Magical Guardians struggling to deal with all of the smaller Anathema in the first place.
With my surroundings noted and the battlefield examined, I prepare for my onslaught. Firstly, I Manifest various Silhouettes on the weapons of the Magical Guardians, each Silhouette balancing between unassuming and terrifying, so as to harvest their wielder's fear without damaging their rationality. Those with a greathammer get writhing, chomping tentacles that reach out and snare Anathema in preparation for a mighty blow. Bow’s are wreathed in pale lifeless flame, that roars to life each time a flaming arrow strikes the nightmarish flesh of an Anathema. Bladed weapons gain shadowed knives on knives on knives that turn the slightest cut into a hundred weeping gashes. Guns get bullets wrapped in wriggling parasites of void-like shadow that grow inside their victims with horrible hunger, devouring the life-hating beasts from the inside. Casters have their staves and magical implements tainted with the fear of the unknown, bringing forth the magic-users greatest nightmares upon their enemies.
This expenditure of fears briefly leaves me shivering in fear as knives, parasites, shadows, and tentacles haunt my mind before I cast them into the world. Normally I would not need to savor my fears before summoning them into real-space, but the strength of our foes begets greater measures.
Many of the Magical Guardians I bestowed with grim blessings briefly reacted with disgust or revulsion upon noticing my Silhouettes lining their weapons. Some however, merely gave them a glance, before a wicked grin or radiant smile plastered their faces. I briefly consider that while I may prefer secrecy, my notoriety for saving those in need with powerful and dreadful magics has already spread far beyond my reach. In some ways a boon, other ways a blessing. Regardless, with my silhouettes painting their weapons a dreadful black and lifeless white, the Magical Guardians begin to regain their ground. Some may take injuries from bone blades, acidic saliva or sonic blasts. But healers take the injured to the backline with the respites afforded by my Silhouettes.
I soon notice the Nightmare Mother moving from its stationary position, and with my sightline no longer obscured I notice that the worm was engorging itself on the mana core or whatever powered the Mana Power Plant. The serpentine creature moves at frightening speed belying its size to the battlefield proper, getting into range of some of its monstrous infantry. Then, the Nightmare Mother begins to grab several of its spawn without slowing and hurls them at various grounded magical guardians. Several guardians take grievous injuries from suddenly being surrounded by so many high level monsters. A Green Magical Guardian, of a Guardian Color famous for their defensive styles, casts a teleportation spell several times to rescue his wounded comrades. Guardians with the ability to fly swoop in and grab some of their friends as well before the Nightmare Mother can target them. On the edge of the battle, friendly reinforcements arrive, and I grant several of them more of my weapon-enhancing Silhouettes.
However, despite quickly saving their comrades and obtaining reinforcements, our side is flagging and our “front line” has collapsed completely. Meanwhile the Nightmare Mother is making good use of the enormous mana source it found in the Mana Power Plant - spawning tens of high level monsters per minute without flagging once in its charge, forcing even more Magical Guardians out of range of its hairs elsewise they will have to contend with supersonic whips alongside a horde of powerful monsters. Magic casters and other ranged Guardians manage to whittle down many of the Anathema in our fighting retreat, but the enemy’s rate of replacement outpaces our culling of their numbers.
To aid in my allies' retreat I pull forth some of their fears of serpents and tentacles and Imbue their surroundings with these fears. Untethered street lights, rebar, steel beams, and sign posts begin to wriggle and slither like snakes as they coil around the rougher Anathema and begin to crush them like an anaconda would. The aforementioned structures that still remain stuck in the ground or buildings grab and pull down monsters like tentacles, some of those tentacles sprouting mouths to chew their monstrous prey alive.
I take my Imbuement a step further by siphoning fears of bestial quadrapeds and Imbuing those fears into various machines, like vending machines, freezers, refrigerators, mulchers, and the like. Each and every one of these machines springs to life with a quadrupedal form and a narrow head possessed of a mouth whirring with mechanical teeth ready to shred flesh. These machines bound into the streets to devour any monsters incapacitated by the animated serpents and tentacles while also tackling any Anathema that get too close to some of the slower, wounded Magical Guardians. These animated creations of mine succeed in culling vastly more of the smaller Anathema with the aid of the Magical Guardians, yet the Nightmare Mother still stands strong, with one particularly worrying development - by absorbing the mana source powering the Mana Power Plant it managed to mostly heal up its gruesome puncture wound.
With slowly increasing speed beyond its already worrying pace, the Nightmare Mother charges through and whips apart my Imbuements while spawning yet even more monsters. It is at this point that I realize: this Nightmare Mother is a Seed Bearer, which is further empowered by the Mana Power Plants core. I then quickly recalled an article I had read about these “Seed Bearer’s” some time ago.
Anathema: Seed Bearers
A Seed Bearer, is an Anathema that has fused with the Curse Seed that keeps a Usurpation Zone anchored in reality. Anytime an Anathema fuses with a Curse Seed, the creature becomes far stronger.
Upon noticing how stupidly enhanced this Nightmare Mother is, I make a painful realization: none of the Magical Guardians here have the firepower to put this superpowered Anathema down for good. Thus, it falls to me to make one hell of an attempt to fell the beast before it corners my Guardian allies at the island cities’ wall.
While watching the serpent monster charge towards my retreating allies from afar, on top of a tall building untouched by the conflict, a terrible, terrible idea springs to mind. While it may not be the best of ideas, I do not have anything better to pull out that I can think of. I need to create a Silhouette of absurd proportions of strength by Siphoning the fear from the entire sanctuary city into myself.
Perhaps if I intimately knew this beast’s weaknesses I could use a much weaker Silhouette to lay it low, but there is simply not enough information on it and the Magical Guardian or Magical Girl who caused the massive puncture wound on the Nightmare Mother either perished or is unconscious and either way, they are out of commission.
I then hatch a patchwork plan to keep the Anathema off me when I inevitably absorb and then radiate an absurd amount of magic that no amount of shadow will be able to conceal.
I quickly travel along the Nightmare River once more towards what I believe is one of the Magical Guardians squad leaders. The Guardian in question is a woman in eye-searing pink with short blue hair, and fractaling spiral patterns all over her thigh socks, blouse and skirt. Melting from the shadow of a fallen building right by the Pink Magical Girl I run alongside her, before calling out to her loudly over the din of battle, startling her somewhat before she recognizes my fear-cloaked form with somewhat wide eyes.
“Hey Pink! Are you a leader of one of these groups of Guardians!?” She replies in the affirmative
“Yes! I lead the Second Chance Squad! Are you the mythical Last Hope!?”
I reply slightly exasperatedly but with a serious tone “I wouldn’t say mythical, but yes, I am he. Listen, I need your squad and the other squads to protect me while I channel a spell in that giant courtyard in front of us that will put the Seed Bearer down for good. Do you think all of you can guard me and keep the Anathema horde away until it’s complete!?”
The Pink Magical Girl’s eyes literally sparkle as hope once more takes root in her heart, and then she exclaims “Yes we absolutely can! I’ll tell the other squads right this instant!”
I give her a sharp nod in response and dive back into the Nightmare River and reappear in the aforementioned giant courtyard at the end of street thousands of feet to the north. Quickly, I collect myself, close my eyes, and reach out into the fearscape with my will. Feeling through the fearscape I reach a giant metaphysical hand across the representation of all the fear in the entire city. Then, with an immense exertion of will, I grasp all of the fear, terror, dread and horror that colors the city and with an incredibly mighty yank, I DRAIN the entire city’s fear into my very being, on top of what I already possess.
Suffused with an entire megacities’ worth of fear I begin to hyperventilate uncontrollably, my mind starts losing focus, my body vibrates and my surroundings rapidly warp without end into a kaleidoscope of terrifying, impossible forms. The fear begins to truly overwhelm, but, like a candle in the dark I recall the evil I must purge.
Monsters from somewhere beyond Earth, seeking to eradicate all that lives and savor their fear like one would a fine meal. Crushing vibrant dreams and the bodies that held them, tearing those we love most from each other. Destroying the history that our ancestors wrote down and built to last ages as monuments to who they used to be, and who's viewing shows us how far we’ve come and reminds us of those that came before. Tearing me from all that I love to turn me into a WEAPON against precious, cherished LIFE! “All of these things and more necessitate their UTTER ANNIHILATION AND I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL THEY HAVE CEASED TO BE!”
I open my eyes to stare at the moon hanging in the beautiful night sky, idly noting my calmed surroundings and that the battle has risen to an absolute fever pitch as the Magical Guardians fight without any fear whatsoever. Even as they lose arms and take mortal wounds, they fight on, recklessly with rage and righteous justice in their eyes. They defend me like savage beasts and cunning masterminds, the eye of their bloody storm. As I stare at the full moon in all its glory, I realize what Silhouette I must create to put the Anathema - these filthy vermin, in their place.
I speak, and as I do, my voice echoes across the entire city, ominous and foreboding as it seeks to penetrate the minds of countless monsters with dark understanding.
“Anathema, you seek to terrorize Humanity and Life itself with pitiful forms of horror. Let me reveal to you, what but one form of OUR horror looks like…”
Far above the clouds, I manifest a beast from myth, a Leviathan to encircle the horizon itself and rule the sea of clouds. With scales as dark as the void of the space outlined in dreadful alabaster, and ever shifting, uncountable coils that block out the moon’s glorious light, the Leviathan gazes imperiously upon the pitiful island beneath its titanic mass. Then, the terrible Leviathan opens an endless maw with ever retreating hinges lined with an unknowable quantity of infinitely-sharp teeth. Six scornful eyes of incandescent white lock onto ant’s masquerading as monsters as the serpent's impossibly long form is set ablaze with an outline of raging white flame informing the entire world of the nightmarish Leviathan’s existence.
Then, with nary a twitch betraying its intention, the sky Tyrant’s jaws plummet at meteoric speeds, seeking to vanquish that pathetic mimicry of a serpent and all of its spawn once…and for all.
CRUNCH