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Half an hour later, the enemy had started to retreat, albeit slowly. What Vincent feared seemed to materialize, as at least half the Celtic troops were obviously coordinating. They intercepted radio transmissions in code. Two scientists were called into the control room and assigned to break the code, but the progress was slow.

“We might have to fall back to Pragwyn,” Dragon said. “That town could hold a siege.”

“How many troops do we have there?” Irene asked.

“We don’t have any troops, but Karel has three thousand permanent guards, plus a thousand Dark Knights borrowed from Trinella,” Vincent said. “The townsfolk have their own militias… so maybe ten thousand in total… Let's see what’s happening in Sofia before we jump to conclusions.”

“You think they’re attacking Sofia too?”

“I fear so, yes… This must be a coordinated thing… And remember what the Queen said about swearing fealty to a new System?”

“There is no new System,” Gia said. “I would have felt it.”

“This doesn’t mean they’re not trying to install a new one as we speak… OK… Who’s with me for Sofia? Small team for now… Is the Bug ready?”

“Still recharging its Mana batteries,” a merc said. “We need another half an hour. The drones had run out of ammunition, too… We lost four in the last ten minutes; the enemy’s adapting.”

“We can send some snipers to take out the officers on the Celts,” Dragon proposed. “Or move forward, the Howitzers.”

“Wait until I return, and we’ll see. OK, we go on foot. No, Thug… you stay here,” Vincent said because his friend had raised his hand, volunteering, but had at least a broken rib. “Me and Barbara.”

A metallic armor emerged from the woman’s bracers and wrapped itself around the Amazon. Vincent changed his name from Valaška to Velasco, summoned his Raven set, and transported them to Sofia immediately after. Thinking back, that set would have been a perfect weapon to fight against the Queen, but the fight went well after all, so there was no need to dwell on the errors of the past.

It was warmer in Sofia, and the sun shone higher in the sky. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, and the two marched toward the town hall to ask if the semblance of quietness was matched by reality. It was not. Inside, a command center had been installed in the lobby, with large tables and maps with soldiers' figurines.

“What are you doing here?” Enild, Barbara’s mother, yelled as soon as they entered the hall.

“We came to check if you’re all right,” Barbara said. “We were under attack but repelled it. What’s the situation here?”

“A Byzantine fleet is going up the Danube, and another army crossed the border from Salonicus… A hundred thousand strong. Eighty miles away now. They’ll be on us in two or three days. The Hungarians promised the Kruy Ovans and the Vlachs autonomy if they helped. They’ll ambush the fleet while we gather our forces against the southern army,” Enild said. “We became aware of the situation at midnight, but all our communications were lost.”

“There’s also a rumor that an enemy team has sneaked inside the city and entered the vault, but it’s not been confirmed,” a young assistant said.

“Don’t mind him. He sees conspirations behind every corner,” Enild laughed.

“I will check it out myself,” Vincent promised, looking at the young man. “Is there a chance the Emperor is in it, or just some rogue princes?”

“I don’t know,” Enild nodded. Vincent remained befuddled momentarily before remembering that the signs were reversed in Bulgaria. Nodding meant no.

“How do you contact the Hungarians and your troops?”

“Flying geese carrying messages,” Enild replied curtly. “Two hours to Budapest, one to our two biggest garrisons.

“Hm…” Vincent grabbed his chin. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take Barbara and check the vault first. Actually, no… I’ll start with the fleet… Send a message to the Hungarians to march their troops here and let the fleet to me. See you soon.”

Saying that, Vincent Strode to Krivoburg, in the Old Main Square. Feeling the cold and the snow on his face was cooling his head, bringing peace to his worries and doubts. His Karmic Charges were down to one-hundred-and-ninety-seven. Whatever costs he had incurred, passing through the Queen’s forcefield and jumping around, had been compensated by the gains of destroying the flagship and a Rogue Archetype. On the positive side, Vorrak didn’t cost anything as long he was inside his shadow.

“Are you there, buddy?” Vincent asked. The warg showed his head for a second, then vanished again. “Good dog.” He rushed up the stairs and on the corridors until he reached the control room. There were two guards outside who opened the door for him. He saluted them, glad his people had thought about it.

“Sofia is under attack too, but they have a couple of days before the enemies arrive. How’s your Mana, sweetheart?” he asked Irene.

“Very low,” she sulked.

“I need somebody with elemental bolts,” he said, looking at Raya.

The woman squatted in front of her girls. “Mommy has to work. You stay here with Auntie Lila, right?”

“We have lots of cakes downstairs,” Lila winked. “But only for well-behaved kids.” The twins puckered their lips but took her hands, following the young woman out of the room.

“The Bug’s batteries are full,” Dragon checked the screen. “Do you want to take the nuke out of the bay?”

“No. The army coming for Sofia is a hundred thousand strong.”

“Shit!”

“There’s a Byzantine fleet going up the Danube. Any chance the satellite could find it for me?”

“Can’t be anything else than this,” a mercenary highlighted a map on the main screen a minute later. “About fifty large ships... They’re kinda spread. Using the Death Star would be a waste there.”

“That’s not my plan anyway. Ready?” Vincent looked at Raya and Jorge.

He gave a hug to Irene and led the way to the hangar. The two put on the flying suits, and Raya got his costume. The woman took a short, deep breath, and Vincent could guess the cause. His aftershave’s scent lingered around, and he could feel it too.

“Those are the fire controls?” Raya asked, pointing at the orbs.

“Yes. I’ll take you over the fleet, and you take it over from there. I’ll check on you occasionally to see if you’re in trouble.”

“You will? How?” Jorge asked.

Vincent avoided answering, embarrassed to admit that Raya still held a place in his loved ones' sixth sense; he had just checked it out. “I doubt they have something strong enough to harm you… but what about Raya firing electric bolts? Would that harm your electronics?”

“I doubt it… but we’ll see after the first shot, won’t we?”

“Go.”

Jorge engaged the anti-gravity engine, and Vincent kept his promise, reappearing with them above the fleet, slightly behind. Jorge searched for a perfect firing position, and Raya took her time aiming. His first bolt exploded the masts and half the rowing paddles on the right side, carving a large scar in the boat and letting the water in. The sailors and soldiers aboard started to scream, some jumping in the river. From nowhere, a small band of horsemen came forward on the shore and started to shoot arrows at those trying to save themselves. Raya’s screen zoomed on the first ship next.

Stolen novel; please report.

Good technique, attacking the convoy's first and last boats, trapping the rest…

“I’ll go check something in Sofia. Fly there when you’re done,” Vincent said, jumping back in front of the town hall, where Barbara was walking back and forth. They started to run toward the vault. Five minutes later, they were looking at the slab of stone that marked the door. For another five, they tried to move it or to find a button or lever to unlock it, but if there was one, it escaped their attention.

“I sense a barrier,” Vincent said. “The Vault must’ve reactivated… That’s not good. There were a lot of traps when we came here the first time, and the other guy did the disarming.”

“I’ll take care of the traps. Take us down there,” Barbara said.

Focusing his will, Vincent imagined the stairs behind the stone door, recalling their position, their structure… the dent in one of them… They reappeared on the staircase. There was a faint light somewhere in front of them. Someone else was there.

Trusting his Dark Vision and Arcane Awareness, Vincent tried to take the lead, but Barbara stopped him with a hand gesture. “I’ll take care of the traps.” Her armor left her body and walked onward by itself.

“The fuck?” Vincent gasped. “How?”

“Bee gave me the Metal Golem’s heart he looted here. Then, with his expertise and some extra help from Pragwyn’s crafters, he made the armor for me.”

“Nice…”

They followed the armor and soon stepped over bits of dismantled traps, fallen rocks, or spikes that had failed to stop the construct. Yet they met a problem. The golem continued marching on, but the light they noticed came from a door frame on their right.

“This wasn’t here the first time,” Vincent said. “Call it back.”

“It’ll take some time, it’s slow.”

It took the armor five minutes to return and go on the woman’s body again. When they stepped on, Vincent passed through the door without problem, but the woman remained behind, waving her hands but with no sound coming from her mouth.

“Shit… it’s a pocket universe…” Vincent complained. “A pocket in a pocket…”

He had to jump back and get her in. The room, twenty yards wide, had another opening on the opposite side and was littered with broken traps.

“Someone was here before us,” Barbara said.

“Yeah… and they can pass through pocket universes too,” Vincent groaned.

They continued like this for nine rooms, with a tremendous cost on Vincent’s Karmic Charges, now down to a hundred and thirty. A black portal waited in the middle of the tenth door, fading fast. Barbara sketched a gesture to rush forward, but Vincent grabbed her arm, putting a finger to his lips and dragging her behind the wall, letting the opening disappear.

“There’s two people on the other side, working on the next door,” he whispered when the portal closed.

“I saw them. Why did you stop me from attacking?”

“What if they’re friendly… or can be reasoned with?”

“We pay a mass at the church to atone for manslaughter?” Barba asked, a plain, sincere look on her face. “You really think they’re not foes?”

“No… the chances are very slim… But what if we could extract some information from them first?’

“Villain monologues?” Barbara’s eyes shined. “I never witnessed one… I’m not good at waiting before killing people.”

“Well… promise you try.”

“I’ll do better… I’ll record it… That’ll stop me from killing them before it’s time.”

“Now I see why Bee fell in love with you,” Vincent said. “He’s big on phone videos.”

“My baaaaby…” Barbara whimpered. “I miss him…”

“C’mon, get your wits in and your phone out. We’re jumping in ten seconds.”

They jumped after thirty because Barbara was inexperienced with electronics. Vincent had to press play for her after pointing the phone with the right side forward. The two persons in the next space, a man and a woman, were inserting a device in the middle of the door. Looking like a skeleton clock, it stood suspended in the air, its limbs rotating randomly.

“Halt and state your business here,” Vincent roared, trying to appear heroesque.

“Aye!” Barbara thundered, her voice even more fearsome. “We need answers.”

The two rotated slowly. They looked old but somehow… ageless.

“Then you will receive them,” the woman said. “But mark my words: this is not a dialogue. We will not tolerate any more questions or words. If you do not swear allegiance to the new System after I show you the truth, we will slay you where you stand. If you speak while I speak, we’ll do the same… We are here to kill Brindabella,” she continued after a brief pause. “She misused the pods and led others to abuse them too. The stasis recipients were not meant to keep our minds awake but to allow us to sleep for hundreds of years, fully regenerating.

“The child slept in the pod for a few hundred years and discovered it did not cure her sickness. Her life was to be short by destiny’s will. Instead of accepting her fate, she modified her pod to allow her mind to interact with the world. Others followed her example and descended into madness. We awoke a few months ago and found half of our brethren corrupted. The System must be purged of their influence and repaired with new code. Now, throw down your weapons and submit.”

“Very well,” Barbara sighed, putting the phone on the floor and pushing it with her foot. The other woman’s eyes followed the object, and his partner didn’t manage to warn her in time. Barbara dashed forward, cutting the woman in two with her greatsword.

“Treachery,” the man yelled, invoking an armor over him. A maul in hand, he jumped to smash Barbara’s head, only to be impaled by Vincent’s spear. The perfect strike and the guaranteed hit skewered him from one part of the body to the other.

“You got me worried for a moment,” Vincent confessed.

Before they had the time to rejoice, both enemies dissolved into specks of light and reformed. Each now had a health bar above their heads, but while the man’s blinked in the red, the woman’s was still in the green.

“Transfer!” she screamed, and as her bar changed from green to yellow, the man’s red changed into orange.

Tags appeared next to the lines. Drakhan, the Iron Fist, Disciplined and Resolute, said the one above the man, and Kaelith, the Unyielding Shield, Protective and Uncompromising. The woman made a large round buckler appear in her right hand and a sword in her left.

“Paladin type and Monk,” Vincent yelled, seeing the man adopting a boxing stance.

“You make no sense,” Barbara screamed. “She’s a Squire, and he’s a Boxer.”

Arguments had to wait as the other two enemies dashed forward as one. Any hope of splitting them was dashed. The woman was parrying any attack with her shield or sword, delivering cuts or bruises in the process, while the man’s hands, now wrapped in metal, hit hard as a truck. Both Barbara and Vincent started to pant.

“What’s your fucking Body stat?” Vincent growled. The man continued his attacks with only a slight smirk as an answer.

“It’s not the stats, it’s the training. Decades,” Barbara said.

“Centuries,” Drakhan said.

Vincent dismissed his spear—too unwieldy in close quarters and pulled out his revolver and axe. Like the Clockwork Queen, Kaelith parried the bullets with her shield and sword. Yet, the axe dealt better with the buckler. Vincent scored a couple of overhead hits, soaking the damage Drakhan did to him with his Shadow Armor.

“I’ll take care of her; you go for the dude,” Vincent yelled. They managed to switch places, with Barbara half swording. Her strength matched the male opponent better, while Vincent’s hand-to-hand combat worked best against the woman. However, their fight was still doomed. Drakhan and Kaelith fought like an item, while he and Barbara were only trying their best. The first started to feign openings, attracting Barbara to positions where Kaelith could hit her with the point of the shield. Step by step, Vincent and the Amazon were pushed back toward the wall. Kaelith’s sword found more and more openings in their armor.

The male Archetype rushed to grab Barbara in a wrestling grip, allowing Kaelith to jump up in the air and thrust her sword downward into Vincent’s neck, only his reflex to jerk his body back, saving his life.

On the ground, Barbara was coping well enough with the man. On the other hand, Vincent discovered with horror that without her, the paladin was cutting or stabbing him at every exchange. Kaelith was faster and tougher in every aspect. This was a real fight, the kind he had feared from the start when arriving on Stellarterra.

The worst part was the light in the woman’s eyes. She knew Vincent could jump, was sure he would try once desperate enough, and she was looking forward to it.

“Ultimate attack!” Vincent yelled, improvising a verse. “A roar of chaos, a storm of pure might, We bring the explosion—the end of the fight!"

The two archetypes stopped their attacks briefly, trying to distance themselves from Vincent, enveloping themselves in a forcefield, a pocket universe. Even Barbara rolled back. Taking the Amazon with him, Vincent Strode inside the chamber the Archetypes were trying to break into.

Behind them, the clockwork device in the frame broke into pieces. During the verse, Vorrak had exited Vincent’s shadow and destroyed it. In the previous chamber, the Archetypes were yelling and gesticulating. Vincent showed them the middle finger, which made the two stop and stare at him, befuddled.

“On Stellarterra, you use the thumb,” Barbara explained, and he changed the gesture.

“Good dog!” Vincent grabbed the monster’s neck, letting himself slowly fall on his buttocks. “You’re almost better than Katiusha, my childhood pet… she was trained to go out and… never mind… you’re as good as her…”

“What was that shit about explosions?” Barbara asked. “I thought you were going to kill me too!”

“A bluff. That bitch was expecting me to jump. If I had done it there, she would have skewered me. In here, she would have opened the door and followed. They were too strong for Vorrak to make a difference by attacking... so I used him to destroy the device. Archetypes are good at making pocket universes but not so much at escaping one, and now they’re trapped.”

“You OK?” she asked, staring at him.

Vincent knew he looked more or less like a shish kebab, some of his wounds barely a half-inch away from cutting his arteries or piercing his vitals. He activated his Regen and Healing.

“How are you?” Vincent asked.

“Bruised, but OK. I rarely met someone to match my strength…”

“Give me a minute,” Vincent asked, laying on his back, with Vorrak licking his face. Finally, he felt his wounds had closed and could rise up. He tried but fell back, being still weakened.

“Come,” Barbara offered a hand. “Let’s find Brindabella.”