“Shoot until nothing’s left!”
“Sustain fire! Bullets to where everything moves!”
Unending roars left the mouths of the Black Wings.
They moved into Syndicate hideouts with a highly disciplined approach.
Squads of up to five or seven were led by their Captains as an encompassing ‘Murder’. Each Murder of Black Wings unleashed streamlined devastation; their bullets seemingly infinite as was their relentless drive.
“GET OUT OF OUR LINE OF FIRE!”
The shout which struck fear into the hearts of friends and foes alike was usually met with someone throwing themselves onto their bellies, their hands clasping their heads. Blistering heat rose from rubble as black boots crushed everything in their wake.
When an enemy fought back with only a single arrow; they were replied with a volley of bullets. When a Healer bled, then the perpetrator was taken alive to the injured Black Wing where they exercised excessive torture.
A Healer capable of violence was the last thing one wanted to get on the bad side on.
“Leave no one standing!”
“Naaaagh!”
“Don’t let them resist!”
“Daaaaaaah!”
“One bullet is all it takes to erase the rot of the Nex Megalopolis!”
“Ghhhk!”
Screams followed the Black Wings like wingbeats.
“They’re underground. Blow it all up! Standard rounds have enough penetration power!”
Bullets hailed down like stray feathers.
“Switch to low-penetrating Entropic Bullets! Dissolve the walls! There are children crying on the other side!”
And they marched as one like a flock of birds, coating the world in black.
The chaos resembled a thunderstorm.
But it was controlled. A chaos which could be seen by outsiders as divine intervention, for these Black Wings descended from the Nexus.
When men and women armed in heavy armor announced their presence, they were taken down with swift shots.
“Doppler Round! Use that bastard like a bomb!”
Or in other cases, the Doppler Bullet – a bullet created with [Doppler Strike] – would focus so much energy in a single point that it instantly obliterated whatever it touched. An explosive round better described it.
Metal fragments cleaved through heads and limbs like a guillotine. They were firmly embedded into the surroundings. The lingering red mist replaced what would have been smoke were their bullets armed with an explosive charge.
The ten-kilometer exclusion zone was where what was called a ‘Flock’ was deployed. Multiple Murders made up a Flock. A Flock was the largest attack force of the Black Wings, consisting of all one hundred personnel.
Everything the light touched was smeared in black. Only later did the White Doves arrive to provide healing for those that were caught in the crossfire. Hora Therapeutics therefore served as an ‘after team’ of sorts to clean up after the devastation left behind by the Black Wings.
“Use your head more! You won’t get an ounce of healing if you can’t learn to duck!” One berated an Adventurer that had joined the fray out of foolish bravery, only to lose their hands due to a stray bullet. “The Head has taken control over these parts. And if you keep crying then those hands aren’t the only thing you’re going to be missing!”
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Part of their role was to herd people away from their combat zones.
As Healers people were utterly shocked to hear them crudely command them.
Even children and the elderly were not spared from their sharp tongues. It was a survival situation. People needed to understand just what was on the line, and a single lapse of overblown pride or stubbornness meant the difference between walking free or dying unspectacularly.
“… He’ll be fine. Your husband – Healers will be coming soon to help him. Keep pressure here. Our bullets can perform miracles so long as it’s within the hour."
But this did not mean they were entirely cold-hearted.
Despite their Healing Bullets being made from [Turn Back the Clock], it could not completely heal a person.
Life threatening damage to organs and major wounds were easily healable. However, spilled entrails needed to be shoved back into the body for it to heal, or completely removed as there was a risk of doubling up organs which could cause major internal damages.
Their Healing Bullets were far more effective on stronger people since they rarely sustained such critical injuries. Furthermore, there was an expiration period before a person’s injuries could be healed.
One hour.
Outside of this their Healing Bullets were useless. Healing Magic could not put back what was taken out without it being put back in, unless the Healer was able to recreate it.
Spilled entrails ran the risk of over bloating a person, causing far more internal injuries.
Additionally, shrapnel and some diseases could be cured with the Healing Bullet so long as it was contracted in the last hour. But there was a limit to this. The Healing Bullet carried only a fraction of [Turn Back the Clock]’s true power, after all.
“This is the doing of the Potion Makers…?”
A malnourished, elderly man struggled to hold himself on his walking stick which was long enough to be spear. It was clearly taken hastily from the rubble to replace an already rotting walking stick.
“The Head. Someone called the Head sent them here. Didn’t it feel like they were mercenaries? I thought they were sent here to kill us.”
Another answered. The voice came from a band of innocent survivors who were rescued by the Black Wings.
“Like the fake Healers…” A woman hugged who appeared to be her older sister. “But they were kinder. Sister. What’s going to happen to us now?”
“It’ll be alright. Don’t worry about that now.”
“They called themselves the Black Wings. Are they really Healers…?”
“You saw what they did to them. They just looked in one direction and people were torn in half in the next second.”
“But you also saw what did for us. They can heal… And kill. Are Healers changing now? Like with what happened to the Nexus?”
“Your guess is as good as ours. For now we can just be thankful we’re not dead.”
“… how are we supposed to live now…?”
This sentiment was shared by them all. Their homes were long gone. Some never had homes to begin with. The shadows of D7 hid a complex socio-economic struggle that even the Golden Index were unaware of. It would also not be a stretch to claim that they were responsible for it.
Suddenly, a warm light filled the darkness of their downtrodden hearts.
“Are you all ok!?” The voice of an angel reached them. It was a Healer in the same uniform as the dangerous Black Wings, but hers was colored white. “Everyone! We have people here!”
A red bag hung from her shoulder like a sling, and her belt was filled with all manners of healing items.
Her cheery voice was pleasant to hear. It had the same resonance as the Black Wings, but hers was so full of love and innocence that it could bring a murderer to repent. She was quickly joined by other Healers, who quickly jogged towards them.
Their bodies were stained with dirt and cuts – proof of their hard work and the fact that they were unwilling to help themselves until they had lent a hand to those in need. Following them were beings that could only be described as parental figures.
Those beings were exactly one Moon and Aspiring Moons of Hora Therapeutics – the Lunar Haruspex and the Lunas, which were the names given to their Aspiring Moons.
The Lunar Haruspex silently observed from a distance, no doubt ready to intervene were someone to even raise their voice at their beloved Healers. The Lunas on the other hand were greatly involved with the Healers, speaking to the bereaved and reassuring them that things would be fine.
“The Head will reimburse all victims and property lost. Of course, the coins will come from the Syndicates first.” A Luna assured them.
“In this place? Even their coins combined will not be enough… I don’t think…”
“Coinage will not be an issue. I can promise that.”
It was not known how the Head was able to produce so many coins. The Treasury – which was held within the highest floor in Time Reverberation’s Headquarters – was accessible to those closest to the Amalgam.
So one had to wonder if the Nexus had a way to generate nothing into coins. Perhaps Nex could be converted into coins. It was a topic for another time, but the truth was that the Head employed the same taboo they sought to eradicate from the Nex Megalopolis.
The Midas Conversion Procedure.
Although this one only transformed criminals into coins.
And of course, only the Amalgam herself could employ this with nothing but her bare hands.
Indeed.
All coins of the Nexus were generated by Frost, and with the number of criminals there were, they had an endless supply of wealth to rebuild the Nex Megalopolis. To not only better the lives of its people, but to bolster the image of the Head as a symbol of hope for people, and fear for its enemies.
The operation came to an end exactly eleven hours after it began, marking the first overwhelming victory of the Head and the power of the Black Wings.