“Mal did what?” Marva stared at her radio officer as if he had just started molting his skin. When she’d heard the explosion from below her positions, she’d assumed the worst.
They’d been halfway down after she’d realized the Blade was heading there when it had struck, knocking her off her feet mid-channel. The half-formed tunnel had caved in, almost killing her unit before she’d resumed control. Assuming the Blade had set off the explosives, they’d continued deeper into the earth at a pace she’d never do if she wanted to make a safe tunnel.
Well, the explosives cache had gone off. Only she had guessed the wrong perpetrator. Mal must have hoped the explosion would kill the Blade. Or cripple her. From the tread Marva could feel hurrying away from the storeroom underneath them, he’d failed. They’d have to finish the job.
The back of her neck throbbed as she forced the rest of the tunnel open. The Implant was heating up, so it felt like she was slowly falling backward into a scalding bath. She coughed, and grabbed her canteen as she continued to work the magic.
Enchantments of this caliber close to the flesh were usually a bad idea. Implanted right next to her spine, it was even worse. But it was paying off, at least. She’d felt the gaze of Systemsight on her twice today. If the Blade had seen her as an Earth Mage, she wouldn’t be so cavalier about how often her foot touched the earth.
“Lieutenant, what do you want to do?” One of the three sergeants she’d encountered along the way asked. She’d gathered about a platoon’s worth of soldiers. Not enough to challenge the Blade. Not unless the explosion had managed to cripple her severely.
They’d need something else. Marva stared at the tunnels and ran a hand along the wall. They were close enough to try it. “I have an idea. It’s risky, but it should kill her. Follow me.”
***
Rebecca couldn’t head back through the tunnels to the infirmary, but going the other way had produced Scales swiftly enough.
The first group had died quickly, a parcel of knives distributed one to each. Through the throat or the eye, none of them had survived.
The next group had given her away. A high-level soldier among them had gurgled a warning over the radio before Bleed and Poison had ended her.
Since then, groups of them had been finding her with unnerving accuracy. She’d check herself for magic tracers and found none twice.
They were hunting her down somehow. Magic, maybe, but she hadn’t seen any mage of real talent when she’d turned on her systemsight. What was it?
More Scales came down a tunnel, spraying bullets down at her. She scurried across the top of the tunnel, letting Uncanny Reflexes carry her through. Her body twisted, turned, and in a few spots, actively morphed her way out of being hit.
She wasn’t made of tissue, but being hosed down with bullets wasn’t going to be as pointless with her as it would be for the others.
Knives flew as she ran and flickered in and out of invisibility. More Scales dropped, some dead, most pulling knives out only to die from bleeding or Poison right after. Someone tossed a grenade.
Shit
Trump card time. Rebecca focused, and her body turned transparent. One second, two seconds, three seconds, each passing with mana vanishing from her pool. At this pace, she only had a few more-
The grenade went off, sending metal shards everywhere, including at her. They passed through, embedding into the tunnel wall behind her. She turned off the effect, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d held.
Rebecca was in a larger tunnel, easily forty feet tall. Circular smooth walls went around her, the curve extending to the floor and roof, giving an awkward feeling to her steps. She leaped, aiming for the roof.
Her hand reached out, and she Morphed, forming little filaments to hold her up there as she looked down below.
The flash grenades had temporarily ruined her Darkvision, so all she had to go on was the lights of the Scales themselves. They were running across the tunnel towards an open metal door. None of them were looking behind.
She could just fling knives from up here, but some would escape, and then the chase would begin again. She lifted herself up by her arm. Her boots touched the ceiling in a second. She withdrew the filaments, then leaped.
Flipping in mid-air, she aimed to land feet first right in front of the door, knives flying as she sailed through the tunnel. The Scale’s dropped, most clutching at bleeding necks. Four through the door, eight more down from knives.
Only eight were left as her feet touched down on the stone.
Those eight didn’t even try fighting, simply running back toward where they’d come. Rolling her eyes, she turned towards the other door, a bouquet of knives at the ready to kill those who had left.
Stone rammed upward, a wall slamming into place an inch in front of her nose. She stumbled backward, eyes widening as it hit the ceiling. The tunnel shuddered, and she focused quickly on balancing herself as the wall rose. It continued past the stone, moving into it. They joined together, perfectly smooth.
Earth mage. How? And what are they trying to pull- The tunnel shuddered again, this time on the other side. She spun around just in time to see a different stone wall seal off the other door. They’d sealed her in.
There were four Scales with her still, all crowded around the solid rock wall. One of them reached out for the part of the tunnel where that door had been, touching the rough rock surface where it had once been. Their shoulders started shaking, and then they began to laugh.
One started crying, and the last two turned around and started firing wildly. Rebecca lept up to the roof, well above where their bullets flew. What was wrong with them?
A series of lights sprang to life, almost blinding. Closing her eyes shut, she adjusted from low light to normal vision before opening again. Just in time to hear the roaring of machines springing to life.
A massive machine, circular and growling as its engine burst to life. She couldn’t see much except the revolving drill on the end, slowly picking up speed as the stench of gasoline filled the vehicles. Metallic chunks of steel hit the tunnel's edges as the drill moved toward it, easily cutting through it.
On the other end of the tunnel, a second one turned on with a similar roar.
They filled the entire tunnel, each of them. She couldn’t aim at the drivers, control panels, or anything. The only thing she could see and target were the fronts of the drills.
A voice echoed through the tunnel from speakers she couldn’t see. Scaverian. “I am sorry. You know the risks to be taken. It’s been an honor.”
More gunshots, and when she looked back down, the four Scales were dead on the floor.
She was trapped, with nothing but the long tunnel and the two drills on either side closing in.
She didn’t have the MP to phase for long enough. And with how short the phase would be….no guarantee she’d get through the drill. Or the wall where the door had been.
She didn’t want to think what rematerializing inside either would do to her.
Metamorph was the only possible way out. But she didn’t have enough ranks unlocked. She could only change her body a little.
Most of my torso, my head…I can seal the rest shut. I can survive that. She stared at the approaching drill, watching as the head churned. Little gaps sometimes appeared between the drill bits and the tunnel walls, but only inches wide.
Did they design this for me specifically, or was it just a trap for any of us who came here? Regeneration wouldn’t help Lewis, nor resurrection if it ground him up fine enough. And the sun's power would be reduced underground, with no guarantee of piercing the drill. Lisa, if she somehow ended up down here, could maybe blast her way through before dying. Trevor was a toss-up. Jake would probably have ruined the drills with his armor.
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It was pointless thinking about this. Rebecca just wanted to stall on making a decision. The drills had traveled about half the distance they needed to reach her. There was only one option for solving this. She just didn’t want to think about it.
Rebecca went to the roof, crawling across it upside down. She didn’t want to get crushed by the treads if she got through. High up was the way to go. As she crawled, she began to change.
Some of her went flat. Most of her did not. That part grasped, pushing her forward. The flat parts of her developed tiny filaments to hold and pull with little insectile legs. She spotted a little gap, a section of the tunnel a bit over an inch away from the drill bit. She forced her eyes to dissolve into herself, freeing up space.
On her body, clothing, and knives melted, forming a separate pocket of materials. They’d stay with her till she reformed.
Even with her eyes completely gone, she could still see the UI.
25% of Body Mass has been converted to user specification. Morphological Pool is at 50/100.
She retained enough to spider-climb across the wall quickly, but the distance was closing. She could hear and feel the drill coming closer. The roar of the engine and metal shearing through stone, the vibrations of the walls trying to shake her loose. Tremorsense detected it occasionally scraping across the wall thirty feet ahead.
Rebecca had to time this perfectly. She would die if she hit that protruding part of the bit. She continued forward, waiting for it to pass by once again. The ceiling shuddered as another chunk was torn apart. Ten feet.
No stopping now. Rebecca charged forward towards the drill as fast as her grasping filaments would let her.
She hit heated metal, a tiny gap in between it and hard stone. Immediately, she began to shove into that gap.
It was a tight squeeze, and immediately Rebecca felt the searing pain of the drill pressing against her. Heat seared her flesh, and she would have screamed if her mouth wasn’t dissolved.
Rebecca’s nose being gone was good. Otherwise, she would have smelled her own flesh cooking. She shoved more of herself inside, operating off of touch along as more of her went boneless, then fleshless.
The ticking of her HP going down was ignored. All she paid attention to was the morphological pool. It filled up, approaching one hundred. It would determine how much of her would be gone.
Most of her torso was utterly gone, flattened into a swiftly burning fleshy roll squeezing its way through. Then she tried to morph her limbs, and nothing happened.
She was out of points. The drill pressed forward into flesh. Heated metal tore through skin, ripped it to shreds, cut into organs and bones. She convulsed from the pain, flesh straining forward as behind was torn into.
You have suffered 184 damage from Brolosk 18 Drill. You are at 916/1600 HP! You have suffered 156 damage from Brolosk 18 Drill. You are at 750/1600 HP! You have suffered 232 damage from Brolosk 18 Drill. You are at 518/1600 HP!
Left Leg is destroyed by damage! Right leg is destroyed by damage! Right Arm is destroyed by damage! Left Arm is destroyed by damage!
Everything that she couldn’t transform ripped off into a burst of gore as the drill pulped the flesh.
You have suffered 134 damage from Brolosk 18 Drill, you are at 384/1600 HP!
Rebecca forced her wounds to close as fast as she could. She pushed, pushed, and kept on pushing. She’d forced her brain into such an unnatural configuration to fit that all she had was instinct, survival, and keep going, even as the drill moved her across the surface of the tunnel wall.
She popped through, the sheet of flesh she’d turned herself into fluttering as she fell down the tunnel. She had enough cognizance left to start changing back. Flesh pulled back in of itself, vestigial eyes reforming into full ones on an emerging head.
Just in time to see a Scale burst out of the cab of the drill, radio in one hand and pistol in another.
Rebecca saw the pistol rise and willed herself to reform faster as she tried to float a different way. Her ears returned just in time to hear the sound of the Scale screaming.
“She’s out of the trap. We need more soldiers in the drill tunnel now!”
The pistol jerked back, bullets filling the air. Rebecca hadn’t formed enough to be aerodynamic, and she activated Uncanny Reflexes.
The ability turned on and tried to do something with her mostly boneless body. Lumps of flesh covered by skin spun around on thin air, dancing for a time in between bullets.
Only for a time, though, as a round nailed her emerging hand.
She screamed through a half-formed mouth as a finger flew, severed at a rubbery knuckle.
You have taken 12 damage from a 9mm bullet. Your hp total for Right Index Finger has been exceeded and that part has been destroyed. You are at 372/1600 HP.
More of her was forming. More bullets now, some ripping through her, causing more pain. She was still mostly floating, perceiving, and reacting. But her brain was slowly resuming a standard shape.
You are at 334/1600 HP.
Okay, enough of that. Rebecca could think now and pushed Morph to do what she wanted. Her arms reformed, bone pushing out, then flesh and skin growing. She had no legs as she fell toward the ground.
Pulling from her immaterial pool, she was limited here. She could only reform what she’d dissolved on her person. Knives formed in her hands and flew.
You have killed Drasica Muramask, Level 3 Peasent/Level 2 Driver/Level 3 Soldier/Level 3 Heavy Machinery Operator.
The Scale dropped, the pair of knives having sliced so much on their way through her neck is was hanging on by shreds and a spinal column.
Rebecca was still hurtling towards the ground, though.
She landed arms first, the floor scraping at her skin. She dissolved her mouth again to prevent a scream. Her arms burned, even as her skin slowly reformed. Stumps pushed outwards from her legs, her morphing, trying to form functional ones.
Skin stretched across bones, and flesh vanished as Morph consumed it to feed her forming limbs. It wasn’t enough. She let her arms dissolve, fingers moving back into her arms. The arms shortened, pulling into her shoulders, every ounce of flesh compacted going to her lengthening legs.
When Rebecca formed her legs into something she could stand on, her arms were little more than tiny nubs sprouting from her shoulders. She took an unsteady step, the thin, skin-and-bone limb quivering. Her entire body was little more than skin stretched over bones. She didn’t have enough mass for anything else.
She managed a few dozen steps down the tunnel before everything went to hell.
The tunnel wall moved, sheets of rock opening to reveal a dozen Scales, most of them aiming rifles. One at the front moved a hand, and the ground underneath Rebecca jolted.
She toppled as bullets came in, hitting her skin and blowing holes into. Metal blasted through her in half a dozen places.
Rebecca lunged forward, teeth lengthening and sharpening. They latched onto the throat of a Scale. Cold blood stained them as she bit, her arm stumps reaching for the Scale’s weapons.
Other Scales were nearby, three of them, one of them clad in a uniform, something pouring smoke out of their neck. Mage.
She focused, stumps of legs shrinking while a hand formed, grasping at the dead Scale’s knife. The Earth Mage pointed at her, yelling in Scaverian. An incantation.
She grabbed the knife and tried to reform as much of her legs as she could. A thrown knife wouldn’t kill. And she needed to kill. She had Spelleater, and feasting on this one’s magic would help her survive.
One of the Scales carried a bottle of something raised overhead. More chemicals. She twisted, trying to avoid it, only for a section of the tunnel to move, ramming her in the side.
You have taken 23 damage from Earth Ram. You are at X/Y HP.
She hit the wall, bones breaking and cracking from the blow. Howling from her reformed mouth, she threw her stolen knife.
Rebecca felt a grim note of satisfaction seeing the Scale’s head snap back as the knife went point-first into her eyehole. The mage stumbled back, even as the poison began to work.
You have struck Marva Verkai with a poisoned dagger! They have taken 24 damage from the initial strike and will take 12 damage per second till they pass their saving throw. You have exceeded their right eye’s HP total and destroyed it. Their current HP total is 56/80
No time to wait. Another Scale was firing, bullets hitting her, tearing through skin, and smashing bones behind. Rebecca ignored it and let her torso dissolve, her arm stretching as it used the spare mass, stretching until it had the Scale by the neck. Muscles sprang into being in her hand as it squeezed.
The Scale was grasping, cutting with a knife in one hand while another pulled out a jar. They slammed it against her arm, glass shattering and cutting as the liquid coated her fingers.
All for naught. Rebecca squeezed harder. She could feel the blood trying to reach the Scale’s brain, constricted by her grasp. That pulse faded and grew weaker. The cuts grew slower. They stopped.
Rebecca released the corpse of the Scale, her arm already shrinking as a torso began to reform underneath her. The tunnels were quiet again.
The Earth Mage was gone, having fled. Rebecca resisted the urge to yell in frustration. She’d hit with a non-serrated knife and a mild poison. All she’d managed was taking out an eye and getting splashed with whatever this was. At least it wasn’t burning acid or fire like the last two times.
You have been struck with an Anti-magic concoction. Your Resistance ranks are not sufficient to resist its Potency Level. Morphing ability has been disabled.
Oh. Oh no.
The world was in pain once again. Immediately the bones underneath her skin pushed against it.
Rebecca’s limbs returned half-formed, skin stretched and torn over bones. Her body tried to fully return to it’s original shape, and every nerve ending shrieked in agony from the efforts. Organs she’d removed sprang into being damaged and immediately began to fail.
She focused on keeping her mouth unformed. If she let it form, she would do nothing but scream, and she needed to hide for now.
The ends of her limbs were fire. Her Morph ability wanted to return her to her original form, triggered by whatever she’d been splashed with. But there wasn’t the mass left to reform her. So instead, it was trying to pull on other parts of her.
Flesh shrank under the skin, being converted to bone. Hair withdrew into her scap, nails into her flesh. The ability wanted to get as close an approximation as possible. And it would draw on as much she could spare and stay living to do so.
Terrified, she started to crawl. She had to find her way out.
In the tunnels, the echo of boots filled the stagnant air. Lights began to chase away the shadows of the tunnel.