>> Twisted Illusions

Barbed chains burst from nothing to snare the grand glass doors. Lashing at us from the walls, as tiny fairies with demented eyes spew from holes in the air. Screaming, tooting, and stabbing us with tiny spears.

It isn't real. None of it.

But the things inside it are, and they cut at us with tiny blades. They maul us from every conceivable angle. Wracking armour. Searing skin.

Burning us. Bleeding us.

Rending our suits as glitches and static multiply across my vision. Mangling what's little truth I can see. Twisting it. Breaking it. Bending reality back on itself at unsettling angles.

But Hell.

That's just a typical day at The School.

Our reaction is instant, violent, and practiced. A storm of outgoing ammunition as we all fire into the space we're sure was ahead of us.

Emptying what little we have left.

LMG ‘Red Glory’ SMG :: 0/220

Spare Mags :: 2/4

Then, our weapons become clubs - and we go absolutely wild. Swiping claws and buttstocks wild abandon. Trusting our helmets and padding to keep us safe as we wade into the melee.

Gremlin a hyperactive blur of red, tearing through fairies - with no effect at all. Demon a snarling, rampaging monster. Kami a brutal pit-fighter, tossing out straight shots that nearly knock my head in.

And me?

I leap right into the fray. My ears battered by such frenzy and distortion until I cannot tell malfunction from illusion. Grabbing at shapes in the maddening light, and dashing drones into walls and each-other.

Until our attacker makes a single, critical, mistake. A tiny fairy that descends, almost lovingly, to zing Kami's iron elbow with a sparking wand.

Instantly, the world goes supernova. A light so blazing hot and white it pierces all holos. Casting stark shadows that stream from every hidden drone at once.

Especially the welder-bot sabotaging Kami.

But not only that. It streaks long shadows from the spidery holo-projector drones clinging to the walls and ceiling.

At least a dozen of them.

I rip out my pistol, and take two before the flash is even half-way done. Spinning to knock out a third, right as it fails.

The others are ain't idle.

Kami grabs the welder, and hammers its body into a fourth. Zipper leaping to snatch number five as Demon rams six. Tufty pounce-hugging seven, as Kami spins to hurl her crushed bot into one at the end.

The perfect image falters.

But holo-bots are a hiveMind. They instantly adapt, and reposition.

"NICE BLOODY TRY!" I scream, pulling a flare from my suit and walloping its butt into the wall. Triggering an instant eruption of light that scours the holos from reality.

Mop-up is fast.

"So that's why The School bloody banned flares!" Kami screams as she piston-punches a spider to death. Leaving us alone in a silent, still, and forgotten hallway.

Deep in the abandoned heart of the QIZ.

"Hmmmmm~sss!!! Flappiess tastiess all gone-gonessss!" Gremlin huffs, poking at pile of scrap in a hopeful sort of way. Her scaly tail lashing fretfully.

"Least someone's bloody enjoying herself." Our sniper drawls, eyeballing a grinning Zip and a red-faced Tufty - both clutching very unhappy holo-bots.

"Mate! Quick! Plug me in! Like, right now! We gotta hack em!"

There is a sudden, stunned, instant of realisation.

And then my teeth rip wide in a savage grin.

"HELL YEAH!! Take the bloody bot, we could take the whole bloody army!" I cheer as a vibrant roar of hope and energy slams through my veins. "Let's get secure, first! Down there! Let's go!"

Quick as thought, I lock home a brand-new mag. Demon scooping a fighty Gremlin, and we kick our way through the scrap and bodies of rats. My flare held high, like a blazing sword, to ward off all illusions.

LMG ‘Red Glory’ SMG :: 220/220

Spare Mags :: 1/4

Our caution turns out to be bloody warranted when one entire walls turns transparent in the burning light. An entire squad of collared rat-slaves staring at us with shock as we pierce the veil of their camouflage.

And I'm quite sure who's more shocked - us, or them.

"Fast and hard!" I yell as Demon headbutts them with the force of a cannon-shot, breaking the line in a single move and tumbling them into a tangle of limbs. Furry bodies tangling with almost-human as they get lodged together in that tight little hall to the toilets.

Only one escapes, and Gremlin hits him square in the face. Latching on like the bastard child of a man-trap and a monstrous, giggly, red limpet. The rest of us diving back as wild rocket-fire spews past our faces, and the guy tumbles over backward.

"Pivot and run!" I roar, and we blitz past in a whirl. Twisting half the group to run backward as the rest lead us to safety. Guns on every window as we make the final, mad, dash for the executive conference-room right at the end of the hall.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Plunging inside, and slamming the thick, frosted glass, door.

Demon immediately charges to work as we hold it. Shouldering the entire, ten-person, table and rams it into the door. With Badger surfing it, no less. The kid hops down to shove in wheelie chairs, as Kami hurls a wine-dispenser on top - old red leaking from it like septic blood.

The rest of us scrambling to find literally anything else we can in the spartan space.

Which is when Badger casually leans in to click the locking mechanism, with a proud "There!". Activating a series of hardened tungsten bars that seal the door perfectly shut.

Kami proceeds to bonk his noggin.

"Well. This is going bloody well." I chuckle, madly, as bullets impact the outside. "Zip! How's the drone?"

"Ready, mate! But it's still trying to, like, uh-" He yelps as the spider makes a leggy bid for freedom. Tufty clinging to his own as it drags him across the floor. His green kitty ears prodded by furious, flickering, fairies while an imaginary wizard pulls an equally imaginary elbow-drop. Beating at his arms with fruitless, ghostly, fingers.

Kami glares at the skidding cat, moving to help Zipper instead. Her hard metal hand tugging a neuroLink cable free of his gear, which she 'gently' plugs it into the side of his skull. Then, they work together. Jimmying the spider's caprice jam the other end into a maintenance slot.

Zipper's head jerks back, and both he and the bot go suddenly rigid. Distortion building around us as the air is scarred by glitching images. With roaring static and titanic cogs that rip through the stuff of reality. Unfurling terrible wings of iron and glitching granite, strewn with hundreds of blackened metal eyes.

All twisted and shrieking and weaving around him.

Yet smoother than ever before.

And there - unseen by all, but me - Polybius pours its darkness and eldritch machinery down the cable. Consuming the drone in a morass of living chaos that reaches its flailing tendrils out, and out to snare the devices controlling it.

I step back. Taking a second to find my breath.

"Stabilising neuroLink." States our unsettling AI. "Est-"

Gremlin blasts off the floor in a leap of panic as something goes BANG-BADA-BANG! BANG! beneath us. Rattling a shiver of dust from above.

Tufty lands on the table a moment later. Wibbling hopelessly and tweaking his frizzed up tail.

And everything goes still. The holoBots frozen stiff, mid escape, as a faint haze of whimsy and frolicking fairies jerk and repeat above them.

Then, as one, all their illusions implode like smoke sucked back into a bottle. A tiny swarm of holo-projector beads dropping from the air around them to rattle and bounce on the floor. Slowly, Zipper reaches up to rip out the cable. His face a mask of fractured, free-floating, eyes in a sea of too-bright light.

Blinking, unsteadily, as they all turn to me.

"What the shittin' Hell was that???" I yell, turning on the spot.

"Our Connection was severed." The Machine Mind states, without a trace of humanity.

"Severed-!?"

Kami gestures widely. "They blew their uplink?"

"Yes." It concludes, as strange flickers of clockwork bleed through my ammo-counter. "Along with their entire Drone Control Hub. Killing their [Drone Commander], and all subordinates."

"Holy shit, mate." Zip says says as distortions shimmer around his head. "They could've, y'know, like, bust up the kit! Or run away! Or, like, anything!"

"Unless they considered the operators disposable."

Kami nods. "That sounded like a bunch of bangs, strung together. Like multiple small bombs."

"Slaves." I hiss. "It's all slaves. 'Owned' by bloody Wayman." I give a slow shake of my head. "They didn't care. They just.... didn't.... care."

"Oh, they did care." Kami says, darkly. "They cared a lot about their systems. About you using their army against them. Just not about the people running that system."

"So, what, like, blow them up....??" Zip says. It's not really a question. And he's not really asking.

"Hacker AIs are fast as Hell." I explain anyway. Because I feel like someone has to. "War slaves are slow, scared, n' terrified of gettin' shit wrong. You order em to smash up their own gear, it's ninety-nine to one they'll panic. They'll dither. Ask to confirm. Think it's a false order from some hacker...."

"But, like, seriously.... To just....."

"That's Wayman. Ruthless as Hell." I pace. Tail lashing. Growling like a predator. "A few seconds delay, and we'd be all up in their systems. Hell, they saw us bloody do it with the train! We'd grab the signal keys for their drones, minimum. And then their army is our army. So what do they do?" My claws dig tight into bandaged palms. Tight enough to cut. "What do they do?"

"Humans tossed away like garbage." Kami whispers, darkly. "Sound like anyone else we know?"

"Yeah." I breathe. "Sounds like the assholes we're runnin' from." I stop. I shudder. I snarl. "Polybius! Tell me ya got somethin'! A map! A damned picture! Anything! Cause I'm about ready to bloody avenge some poor bastards we ain't never even....."

I turn away, closing my eyes to contain the rage inside.

Polybius ticks for a moment, then its voice fills the air.

"The explosive trigger was almost instant. There was very little that could be retrieved."

"Nothing??"

"No." Says the emotionless cauldron of boiling eyes and wings shimmering above my gun. "However. I have obtained the positions and types of their drone army. Also. I have determined that their systems are neoSoviet technology. Which indicates a possible link to The School."

A low breath gets sucked out of the room. Not of shock, but of pain and forced acceptance. "I was right."

"Hope not. They'll bloody report this. Our Evil Bitch of a Stepmother will know we're here." Kami warns, after a moment.

My eyes darken. "Not if none of em make it." I glance around at them all - these kids I gotta protect. "Not if they don't check in. Not if every damn person they've mind-raped and bloody tortured gets Justice tonight."

"Long way back to The People's Empire." Kami agrees, six hands working seamlessly to check her guns. "Hard to get a signal out that far East. Even on the Neodine Trunk Lines."

"Which means," My breath hisses silken death through bared fangs. "It ain't gone through yet. Which means our target is still in the buildin'."

The Left Hand of the Devil. Or part of it.

"Yeah, maybe mate. Unless their drone drop was, like, yesterday."

"Either way. This was a timed op. This was never a reward." Kami spits with all due venom. "This was the real target."

A flash blasts across the 'glass' door, blackening it. "Grenade. Shit. They're gettin' spicy out there."

"Maybe. Probably." I hiss as my ears slip left and right. Hunting odd sounds in the walls. "But that don't matter now. Not after what we've seen. No." I rip open my wet eyes, and there is only fury. "All their drones are down! That's why it's so pathetic out there right now!" My grin widens. "They got nothin'."

"Well, like, not nothing." Zip stutters, yanking the cable from his skull. "They got turrets. Rat slaves, too. They gotta be different systems."

"And big mean ole goons!" Badger pipes, trying to be helpful. Probably.

Kami scoffs. "If they had goons, they wouldn't need Waymans' scraps. They'd be kicking the door in right now."

"Yep." I hiss, with malicious vengeance. "They're down to dust n' pocket lint. And I got a nasty little plan to turn the tide...."

Kami's glitched eyes shine white as opals in the dark. Metallic, and eerie. A dark little grin glittering beneath the chaos of her broken face. "Oh my. Do tell."

"Best not. Walls got ears." I warn. "Pol. Any more data?"

"No."

"Shit. We're runnin' round with our asses on fire" I maul at my helmet, biting sharp fangs together. "What about our other 'source'. The dataStick. From our 'informant'." I avoid saying 'Moon'. "Anythin' we can use? We must have something."

"Doubt it. It's all just garbage off the company website. Business was called 'FabTek' a zillion years ago. Big contractor for the 'Grand Revival of New Quebec'. Specialised in 'industrial drones', and random custom jobs." Kami repeats, reeling off the cliff notes from our briefing. "That's it. Except some glossy images, but Polybius thinks they're stock photos."

"Garbage. Yeah. Nothing new." I muse. The go rigid. "Wait. Website?"

"Yeah. Pol confirmed. It's on a half-broke server on the old web....." She tails off.

"If this place is outta comms range." I reason, quietly. "How did our bloody 'informant' look at the website?"

That knocks us back.

"Forget it. We're wasting time." Kami snaps. "For all we know, they have breaching charges. Or bigger bombs."

"Right!" I snap straight up. "Let's go."

"Go?" Says a whimsically girly little voice. "Oh my goodness! But you've only just arrived!"

"Who-" Kami starts.

And then the entire back wall of the meeting room is ripped clean apart. Revealing a nightmarish, beautiful, neonPunk apocalypse of light. Of blinding colours, and sugar-coated nightmares.

All gleaming with beauty, and wicked sharp teeth.

And at their midst. Crowned in glory, with and actual tiara..

A face I never thought I'd see again.

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