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It was early January, and life had been sweet to Vincent for the last months. No more signs of rogue Archetypes. Hubris and Kiara had been relieved of their duties and enjoyed more freedom. The new Archetype assigned to watch over the Guildchy was Sven, the dancy spider. He was cute and kind, albeit stubborn. But with the help of Jong and his karaoke machine, Lila, and a few Circus people, they kept the little monster entertained and, bit by bit, convinced him to let out the AI personalities stuck up in the database. Bee, Jorge, and Irene had lengthy conversations with the latter.
Most visitors had left when they reached level ten, and luckily, no guilder had expressed the intention of going away. A few relatives had stayed, and a few families had moved to Pragwyn.
Scared by the speed at which they took two provinces from his Empire, Byzance’s emperor had come to Pragwyn to sign the treatise. Vincent and Irene had traveled to Stockholm to do the same. They revisited the location for Christmas together with Lila. Shopping in that town was as good as on Earth, or better. The Mongols had accepted the deal, making Irene happy. Vincent was scheduled to visit Parisi to sign the next treaty in a matter of days.
Leveling had been slower—he was eighty now—but using his skills had become more fluent, more natural. On top of that, he had bought a skill he had ignored: Critical Chance Buff.
After bathing in the soft morning light for a while, Vincent sneaked out of bed and tiptoed to the kitchen, starting the coffee machine bought in the northern lands. He selected the buttons for three cups, peeking back to the bedroom. Tucked under the blankets, Irene and Lila still slept. It was the first night Irene had opted to join… and Lila had been very nervous. But judging from how they cuddled together, it all went well.
“Boss… Boss!” a chirp, more like a hiss, made Vincent look down.
“Morning,” Vincent whispered to Sven.
“Make me a coffee too, boss… I couldn’t sleep all night. Cupcakes would have freed herself to come into your bed.”
Whining in a corner, the small tiger was wrapped into spider webs. Vincent poured coffee into a small cup and put it on the floor. “I trust you didn’t spy on us, right?”
“I’m an Archetype, Boss. If I look at people making up, I see a blur, and my hearing is impaired.”
“Good boy,” Vincent patted the spider. “Vorrak, are you around?” The warg’s head appeared from under the cupboard, where he was hiding in the shadows. “Are you hungry?”
The pet shook his head and disappeared. Shrugging, Vincent took his cup of coffee outside on the terrace of their new apartment. It was snowing, and it was cold. The steam of the coffee rose to meet the falling snowflakes, melting some. In the distance, a snow blanket covered the hills and mountains. It tempted him to go and ski, but the resort and the cable cabin were still under construction, and he didn’t want to waste Karmic Charges on a whim.
The terrace embraced the floor, which was all built for them, and he toured it to breathe in the view. The forests, the mountains, and Pragwyn in the distance, finishing with the bedroom. The shapes under the blankets were moving, and there was no doubt what was happening. Irene and Lila were kissing.
Vincent considered joining, but the magic was broken by three consecutive messages.
Hubris: Vincent! You’re in danger! Take—
Urgent Quest from Grand Archetype Elkandaros: Defend the S—
Brindabella: Help! Help! Hel—
A notification made things worse.
Connection with the Live Operating part of the System was lost. You might experience lags in accessing databases and Main Quest rewards. Your individual OS is functioning within normal parameters.
“Fuck!”
[Vincent to Guild (- Irene - Lila)]: May Day, May Day, May Day. Execute Emergency Protocols. Report in a minute. Out.
[Vincent to Gia]: Have you seen the messages?
[Sven to Boss]: Boss… two of the fucking subroutines are missing…
A knock on the French door window pulled his attention to the room. Irene, the one who knocked, was beckoning him inside, clearly intending to engage in intimate activities. Lila winked from the bed. He didn’t intend to interrupt them, but now it was too late. The expression on his face made them freeze.
“The System is under attack,” he said curtly once he entered the room. “All I know is that two of the bloody spider’s subroutines are involved somehow.”
“I have nothing to do with it!” Sven chirped. “I want those shitty things removed from my head. I’m smart enough on my own.”
“Who’s missing? Let the AIs speak!” Vincent yelled.
“Vorrin and Nyssara,” the spider spoke in a woman-like voice. “They voted against joining you. Vorrin specializes in communications interfaces and Nyssara in gates. We didn’t notice until moments ago. They left bots behind, mimicking their behavior.”
“You can transfer to other supports, right?” Vincent asked, and the spider nodded. “Somebody helped them… Fuck! We might have a traitor in the guild.”
“What do you mean by specialized in gates?” Gia’s avatar asked, appearing from the floor.
At the same time, Vincent took his radio out of the inventory. “Dragon, this is Axe Raven. Do you copy? Over.”
“Axe Raven, this is Dragon. Copy, Over.” Dragon’s voice was a bit sleepy, but Vincent knew the colonel. He was ready to go at a moment’s notice and slept with the radio and the gun under his pillow.
“Dragon, the System is under attack. Prime suspects: rogue AIs. Possible multiple complices. Over."
“Axe Raven, this is Volkov, the on-watch guy. We have an incoming… thing from the west. Over.”
“Gates of access to pocket universes. You want to be able to go in and out without shutting down the whole thing,” the spider said over the radio chat.
“We have to assume this means they can breach in if we enclosed ourselves in one… Shit! Dragon and Volkov, this is Axe Raven. I need all available drones in the air. Warm the Bug. I repeat. Warm the Bug. Fully armed. Do you read? Repeat. Over.”
“This is Dragon. I read back. Warm the bug. Fully armed. Over.”
“Dragon, Volkov, I’ll be in the command room in two. Over and out.”
You have a Diplomatic Mail. Open? Y/N.
“What the fuck is that? Yeah, open.”
From: Clockwork Queen-Archetype of Industry and Culture to: Vincent Valaška
Ultimatum: Surrender or be destroyed. You will be allowed to remain in the same position pending your submission to the new authorities. If you accept, send a reply within ten minutes.
CQ
“The bitch! She invited us for dinner, and now this? Paris is involved; the Queen gave us an ultimatum,” Vincent stopped his rant to summarize the situation to his wives.
“Why not wait to have us in Paris and take us hostages?” Lila asked.
“Beats me. Since this looks like an attack on the System, maybe there are more parties involved, and she’s not the one setting the timeline. I’ll meet you in the command room,” he blurted, dressing on the way out. The private elevator took him to the control center in less than a minute, yet every second felt like an eternity.
“The French are involved,” he said as soon as he entered the room.
“The Celts?” Thug asked.
“Whatever. Situation!” Vincent barked.
“Look for yourself,” Dragon gestured toward a computer screen. Five miles to the west, a large blob of fog was advancing toward them on the empty fields, waving between the forests.
“It’s a pocket universe,” Vincent hissed. “They weaponized it somehow… we can’t shoot our drones or howitzers at them.”
“Everyone knows you can make wormholes, but do they know you can do it between alternate universes?” Bee asked. It was a rhetorical question.
“Maybe not… Is everyone accounted for? Any suspicious activity?”
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“All guild personnel is accounted for, here or in Pragwyn. No suspicious activity,” Gia replied. “I don’t think the ones who help the AIs flee are from the guild… You had all those guests from everywhere, and sorry to remind you, you gifted them smartphones.”
“Sven… sorry… stuff inside Sven, can your pals fit in—”
“A smartphone or laptop could carry their compacted versions until better support is found,” the spider answered with a woman’s voice, one of his eyes blinking red. “One of us has the memories of a great warrior of our planet. He wishes to offer advice.”
“Go on.”
“It’s a simple but effective trick,” a deep voice boomed from Sven. “The incoming army has a villain in command, right? Ask for a duel. There will be a villain monologue before that. As soon as they enter the smug pose, that’s a giveaway that the monologue has finished. It’s the perfect moment to strike. That’s considered a lawful hit that doesn’t break combat protocols and gives an extra attack in turn-based combat.”
Dragon facepalmed while Vincent sighed and patted the spider’s head. Stopping all of a sudden, he gasped. “Actually… it’s a good idea… How long before the Bug’s warmed up?”
“Checking,” an aide looked at another screen. “Five minutes without maximum load, ten with.”
“Go for ten. I’ll tell them we surrender and stall. How do I reply to the Diplomatic message?”
A blinking blue text appeared. Vincent Valaška to: Clockwork Queen-Archetype of Industry and Culture. Dictate the message and say Send when finished.
“I wish to surrender. What will happen to my people and the town? Or my territories? Send.”
“What’s going on?” Irene appeared in the room, followed by Lila. Raya and Barbara appeared too. Two little heads with curious eyes peeped from behind Raya’slegs, her twin daughters.
Shit, I forgot Raya’s here… Vincent’s heart skipped a beat. She’s giving her husband some space or something…
“I don’t have anybody to babysit them,” Raya explained, fidgeting her fingers.
“It’s OK,” Vincent said, trying to sound indifferent. “I have an answer from the Clockwork Queen… You keep Krivoburg and the guild, convince Pragwyn to surrender, or help us conquer it. You give Southern Italy to us. Bogomils are fair game for the Byzantines… I’ll tell her we accept… Call back all the small drones. Keep the big one in the air, ready to attack at a moment’s notice. Guys, hear me out. Make everybody in the guild gather in the New Main Square. Prepare the town for evacuation. Irene, remember when you told me next time you want a piece of the action? Well… the time has come. Jorge, Thug, you’re in too. We’ll make the Bug fly.”
“Err… I’m no pilot, man…” Jorge shivered. “I’m afraid of heights, actually. What if I do it remotely?”
“Radio signals won’t pass through a pocket universe’s wall. Take a nausea pill or something,” Vincent said deadpanned. “Let’s go, I’ll explain on the way.”
They exited the room running. Vincent would have used his skill, but there was still a minute to go before the schedule, and walking allowed him to put his team up to speed.
“Once at the Bug, put on the flying suits. They're flexible but extremely tough. I’ll jump inside that pocket universe of theirs. I expect them to have a ton of blimps. Irene, your bolts are better than mine, so you’re the gunner. Take down the blimps. You’ll have two spheres in front of you; focus your Mana bolts through them, and the bug’s eye will shoot something like lasers; they amplify the stuff.
“Err… won’t be easier just to release the… you know… thing?” Thug asked.
“The thing?” Irene asked.
“Remember the two nukes we brought here?” Vincent asked with his head lowered between his shoulders.
“I sure do,” Irene hissed.
“There’s a third one. I didn’t want to freak you out, and my dad once told me: Son, what a woman doesn’t know doesn’t hurt her.”
“Can’t wait to meet your dad,” Irene hissed. “And choke him to death.”
“Yeah, well… get in line, my mom says that every day. The thing is, this one is big.”
“How big?” Irene asked with false sweetness.
“Thermonuclear big… and Bee put an enhancement on top of that. If we blew it, it’d kill everyone inside that thing, including the Queen, who I think is maintaining the pocket universe. Without a barrier, everyone in the city will be dead… OK… new message from her. I am to exit the town alone and present her my allegiance by accepting the new System… I have ten minutes…”
“Axe Raven, this is Dragon. That fog has accelerated. Over.”
“Dragon, we’re at the Bug… Cross your fingers for us. Over and out.”
They had arrived at the trilobite carcass in a hangar under the Guild’s tree. A team of five mercs and as many scientists were busy extracting cables from it. Four doors were open, like for a car, but folding upward. On each chair was something resembling a hazmat suit, only made from an iridescent flexible material, with a similar helmet. The logistic team rushed to help them equip. They finished five minutes before the deadline.
“Go, go, go,” Vincent yelled.
Jorge took the driver’s seat, pulling levers and pushing buttons, Irene went near him, and Vincent and Thug entered the rear space.
“Anti-gravity activated,” Jorge said, closing his door. The trilobite raised ten feet in the air.
“Honey, put your hands on that stuff and prepare to fire,” Vincent asked.
“Question…” Irene said, chewing her lower lip. “Is that a chance I could… kill people by doing this?”
“No, there’s no chance,” Vincent started, killing her hopes the next second, albeit hating himself for doing so, “it’s a certitude. There will be people with families, men, women, and probably young, who’ll die because of you. The only problem is that if they don’t die, other people and other families will die, and those will be our guys. Are you ready for it, or should I find another—’
“I’m ready,” Irene hissed, her expression hardening. “Their deaths will not be on us but on that bitch, the Queen.”
“Good. That’s the spirit. Thug, once inside, we two will jump to the Queen’s location and take her out. Jump in three… two… one. Jump!”
The trilobite appeared one thousand feet in the air, inside the pocket universe. The space was about ten square miles, in Vincent’s estimation. Below were tens of thousands of troops: knights, armored vehicles, and cannons, which looked antique but were still cannons. In the air, about a hundred airships. The trilobite started to fall for a second before Jorge stabilized it. Irene took her first shot as soon as their flying device was more or less steady. A flying bolt of light hit the closest blimp’s envelope, and the dirigible caught fire in seconds.
“Hydrogen?” Thug gasped. “How stupid are they?”
“Helium needs a lot of tech,” Jorge said, while another, then a third airship burst into flames. There was incoming fire, spells, and machine guns, but the trilobite’s armor was all but impenetrable.
“The fuck is that?” Jorge pointed. From the clouds, a massive tower floated down, built of metal and glass, showing cogs and spewing steam.
“The Queen’s Clockwork Versailles,” Vincent said.
“It’s immune to my damage,” Irene yelled after firing a few bolts at the flagship.
“On it, hon. Thug, we’ll jump into the throne room.”
“How do you know where’s the throne room?”
“I studied the blueprints. Nora obtained them from— Nevermind. The Queen has an exoskeleton armor and fights with swords. You’ll engage her, and only her. I’ll take care of anyone else and try to disable the ship. Ready.”
“Anytime you want, man,” Vincent’s friend said, and then they jumped.
The throne room, and also the deck, was filled with people. Some had armor—the guards—but some wore only plain clothes, the pilots and technicians. Vincent shot all his six bullets at the tech people, summoned his axe, and ran at the first two knights. They were ten levels higher, but his force was augmented by ten due to the name he displayed that day. At ninety, his Body stats were monstrous. The axe head felt like brushing on the helmet, yet cut the first man's skull in two effortlessly, the backhand sending the second knight flying into a wall, his back broken.
The remaining ten knights grouped to attack Vincent head-on together, but he Strode in their middle, breaking half in pieces, then killed two more, broke one’s leg with a kick, headbutted a ninth, caving his skull, then turned the axe around, killing the last knight standing and then the one down. The personnel tried to run away when Vorrak erupted out of Vincent’s shadow and proceeded to bite their throats out. Dying, a pilot fell on the commands on his desk, and the flying behemoth leaned downward.
Vincent turned his attention to the back of the room, not a moment too soon. The Queen’s armor had divided itself into multiple arms armed with sabers, cleavers, and kitchen knives, like the Indian goddess of destruction. Thug was attacking her with inhumane speed, a blur of motions: cuts, thrusts, even taking out a shotgun and firing it at point-blank range. To his flurry of frenzy, the Queen opposed a cyclone of swings of her own. She cut bullets out of the air without effort, hitting Thug relentlessly in the same motions. The man would have been sliced into pieces if not for his armor and several enchantments.
Shit, I have to help him… Striding into the Queen, Vincent got pushed back by a forcefield.
“The bitch is strong!” Thug yelled.
“Fuck,” Vincent cursed when his axe sent a jolt of pain in his arm, bouncing off the Queen’s armor. His intervention didn’t change the fight in the least; the tornado of hits remained the same, only he was getting some, too. For a moment, he considered activating his one-use-only Reflect Damage, Bee’s enchantment. Still, the Queen didn’t strike hard, only fast, overwhelming them with skill, not force. One reflected hit among a thousand wouldn’t have made a difference.
“Don’t move,” a voice yelled. An elevator’s doors opened, revealing a sizable platform. On it was Brigid, the princess, and dozens of knights armed with rifles and bayonets who rushed to take firing positions on the deck. The worst were the two Gatling guns aimed at them.
“Timely arrival, grand granddaughter,” the Queen hissed, walking forward, her swords at the ready. On the way, she pushed the dead pilot away and pulled the lever on the board to stabilize the ship. “Surrender. Or flee. Or die. Up to you.”
Vincent, Thug, and Vorrak retreated to the middle of the room, back to back. Vincent had several choices, the first being to activate his Outsider’s Refuge and the second to flee after throwing a grenade. What he did, though, was to jump in the middle of the new troops, elbow Brigid in the face, knocking her unconscious, then teleport back to the Bug ship, taking Thug, the princess, and Vorrak with him. The warg had the common sense to melt in Vincent’s shadow. Then, he took the ship out of the pocket universe.
“Eagle One, this is Axe Raven,” he yelled in the comm. “Prepare Death Star. I repeat, prepare Death Star. Over.”
“This is Eagle One. Copy. Warming Death Star. What’s the target? Over.”
Brigid moaned, wiggling in his arms, and Vincent hit her in the chin again. “Eagle One, there will be a massive ship exiting that fog soon… Aim for the bridge and fire at will. It’s the central tower, on the top floor. Over.”
“Roger, Axe Raven. Death Star is ready in ten seconds. Over and out.”
“Please, please be as stupid as I think you are,” Vincent prayed.
“What’s going on, man?” Jorge asked.
“Death Star?” Irene asked. “Hiding things from me again? Shiiiiiit!”
The pocket universe had ceased to be, revealing the army inside. The flagship was now in front of the fleet, enveloped in a lightning net. A giant electric bolt shot forward, hitting the Bug without causing damage, except for a flicker of the screens.
“They almost fried the electronics, man,” Jorge complained.
“Why aren’t you flying the damn thing?” Vincent yelled. “It’s supposed to be supersonic and agile!”
“You want me to puke? OK, OK!” The Bug leaned right and accelerated, evading a second attack.
“Diplomatic message,” Vincent sneered. “I quote: give my granddaughter back, or I’ll burn your town to ashes. Reply: You’re ugly, your suit looks out of fashion, and my mother cooks better than— Oh, fuck… I didn’t have time to send it…”
Two fire lines had descended from the sky, hitting the Queen’s ship at a second difference. The impact was so strong they continued downward, impacting the ground like giant fists. The flagship broke in two, falling on the troops below.
You have slain the Clockwork Queen, Archetype of Industry and Culture, and an additional five-hundred-and-eighty-nine people. + 5 levels. +2 in Mind and Spirit.
“What was that thing?” Irene asked, her eyes widened in horror.
“Tungsten rods and a magnetic accelerator, magically enhanced, fired by one of those satellites I placed into orbit,” Vincent said. “I didn’t tell you because it had no relevance for your everyday life and to avoid spies.”
“Hm,” Irene snorted, crossing her arms.
Vincent leaned forward and kissed her hair. “Honey?”
“Yes?”
“Please shoot down every other blimp. I’ll ask the drones and the Howitzers to attack the tanks. Hopefully… they’ll retreat…”
He didn’t voice his main concern. The huge number of enemies. All they needed was a competent leader to take back control and split the troops into smaller units, throwing them at Krivoburg. There was no way they could stop a mass assault if that happened.