We hit the Old One’s army like a tidal wave. The Artillery Corps launched wide area magics that ripped apart the shamblers and other less armored troops; The few remaining M9 Legionnaires used their defensive magics to hold breaches in the line and give the infantry a chance to unleash a lead storm. The crack of high powered sniper rounds punching through the heavy plating of the more armored enemies. Myself and the Phantom’s under my command focused on the threat we were uniquely suited to facing: Antimagus troops.

“Forty yards to your two o’clock,” came Nathan’s voice as he provided overwatch while Bart Franklin continued firing pinpoint rounds to bring down opponents.

A quick glance and I spotted the creature. Six feet tall with thick bluish black skin, one arm shaped into a chitinous blade, and black orbs that gazed out at those who would oppose it’s masters. Antimagus were the biggest threat on the field for most of our troops, their natural ability to nullify any magic they touched or that touched them made hurting them difficult. Add increased reflexes and strength to the mix and you had a monster any sane person would avoid.

With a minor expenditure of will I shifted, blade held in a two handed grip, as I came out of the shift my sword cleaved through the neck of the creature. I quickly rolled away from the still in motion death swing of the creature as I retreated out of the field of antimagic it produced even in death. The advantage Phantom’s had against these creatures couldn’t be understated, most of us had a natural Talent, an inborn magical gift, that focused on movement or stealth. Since the magic affected our own bodies rather than the enemy we could get within striking range of an Antimagus to strike with our enchanted mono-edge blades. While the enchantments were effectively nullified after being in contact with the beasts, it didn’t stop them from still working as a sharp piece of metal. A couple of yards away I saw one of my men appear in a flash of light to stab another Antimagus in the neck from behind. Lieutenant Samantha Colen, a dangerous and powerful Phantom with two inborn Talents, teleportation and flight. She was actually my pick for taking the command slot when I eventually retired.

“Show off,” I barked out with a bit of manic laughter.

She smirked at me and then vanished in another flash to reappear elsewhere with a similar thrusting takedown of another beast. Muttering under my breath I scanned the area looking for another target. Unlike teleportation I needed a direct line to where I was going as I built momentum based on how far I traveled. From activation to exit a shift only took about a second most times, but I came out of the shift with the momentum that it took to move that distance in a single second. It was a dangerous technique to master, I had a medical file that proved it, but for a Phantom with a sword, it was more dangerous to my opponents.

As I scanned I caught sight of a Thorn Daemon with it’s projectile forearms aimed at the back of St. John’s squad as they pushed through a breach towards the open portal. A quick shift and was in between the daemon and its target, my blade cutting through the forearms. I wasn’t quite fast enough as one of the three inch spikes hit me point blank, punching through my body armor enough to draw blood. A quick backhand slash with my sword opened its throat and removed the threat. With my left hand I reached up and plucked the spike out of my armor and sent a whisper of power to seal the wound. It was painful, but not life threatening, and I couldn’t afford to have blood loss affect me so a quick and dirty patch job would have to do for now. A glance showed most of St. John’s squad was taking up positions outside the portal, guarding the doorway. The glance showed me that she had taken Oakbreaker, Siona, and Duncan in with him.

I wanted to shake my head. I doubt she even planned it out in advance, but she took representatives of the other races in with her to finish this fight. From a logical standpoint it made sense, each of them were specialists in their own right with natural aptitude pushing them further than most could go; but if anyone had told me when I first signed up that the fate of the galaxy rested on the shoulders of a human, a troll, a fae, and a dwarf I would have called the nice people at the mental hospital.

I activated my communications net and said, “She’s through the gate, focus on keeping this side clear so she doesn’t get an unexpected enema.”

“You never know sir, she might find it fun. Think I should suggest it to Siona?” came Nathan’s voice.

“Stow it Nathan, what she chooses to do in her downtime is none of our business Now call out the targets!” I snapped back

“I don’t see any other Antimagus on the field within a klick of the gate.”

“Shit, Major, watch your eight o’clock, there’s an odd one punching through the lines! AP round ineffective.” I heard Bart call out across the comms.

I whipped my head around to see the bodies of soldiers being flung as something large moved in a straight line towards the gateway. As it came into sight I drew my pistol and fired, charging the rounds with extra energy in hopes that they would put whatever it was down. My rounds hurt it based on the spray of black blood and roar that came from it before it reared up and I got a good look at what I was facing.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Or rather who: Nar’Shag, one of the smallest of the beings known as Old Ones. Small was a relative term as even crouched it topped ten feet tall without counting the barbed prehensile tail that it used to skewer a Legionaiire. Tendrils that could almost be called tentacles as black as the rest of it trailed down its scalp like hair, a long scar blinded one of its inky black eyes, and its angular almost canine muzzle opened as it rasped out in a voice not meant for human speech, “Flee mortals, live a little longer, cower and beg and you may live out the day.”

With the words a wave of fear flowed over the battlefield, a few of the soldiers unconsciously stepping back. Me, I raised my pistol and overcharged the last round in the magazine and let it fly. The round impacted the creature's armored chest and knocked it back a step. As it snarled I called out, voice ringing through the silence without benefit of voice amplification, “No, voidspawn! You are the one who should flee back into the deep dark. Your kind has no place here, so begone before I consign you to OBLIVION!”

“You!” it roared as it saw who had shot it.

In a quiet voice, as I channeled mana through my body, I angrily spat out, “You won’t get away with just a scar this time.”

I had to get it out of the area. The Commander needed time to end the threat, and if I let Nar’Shag remain near the troops that aura of fear would make them less effective. So I did something reckless and pushed off in a shift cut to a quarter of the time. This amplified the impact as I rammed into the beast shoulder first, knocking it off its feet. While my right arm was still in contact and we were both airborne I pushed my magic through the built in amplifiers of what remained of my armor and Shifted, hard.

I could feel my arm tearing itself apart as the magic catapulted us away from the battle. Since Nar’Shag had no leverage to prevent the motion he was pushed ahead of me like a wave before a ship as we came out of the magical field he was flung through a building my body skidded and tumbled along the asphalt of a roadway before friction slowed me down. I groaned in pain as I pushed myself up, that wouldn’t be enough to stop the creature, and I could feel my right arm flopping against my body in a way that clearly indicated it was useless. Of course as I stood I felt my body armor crack and fall off of me not designed to withstand the punishment my shift and tumble had inflicted.

The rubble of the building Nar’Shag had been flung into, shifted, and was flung away as the beast stood. He had clearly taken damage from that too as I saw open wounds oozing the black blood of the Old Ones to drip on the ruined streets of Paris.

I used my left hand to draw my sword, raising it to a guard position as I spoke, “If you want to get through that gate you have to get through me first.”

The tendrils around it’s crest waved in the air as they began to glow like a black light and I was forced to use small amounts of mana to stutter step with shifts as I dodged beams of dark energy that fired at me. The shift dance was draining without the armor’s amplification, but since this was the last battle I wasn’t worried about the aftereffects of mana debt. Closing the distance I cut out with the sword only to have the strike blocked by chitin covered forearms before I had to twist to the side to prevent the sharp fangs from latching onto me as it’s head shot forward.

“Your blade can’t cut me mortal. If you beg I’ll make it quick,” Nar’Shag growled out.

Shit, between the constant battle and the Antimagus’s blood my blade no longer carried enough of an edge to cut through the creature's hide. That meant that I only had one option, and without anything to assist me it was going to suck.

“Per sanguinem, os, et restituet quod tempus laesit,” I chanted as I drew the sword along the damaged flesh of my right arm. “Dimitte sigillum!”

Pain wracked my body as I felt the remains of my right arm consumed by the blood magic. The runes along the length of my sword glowed with actinic light before a crimson light joined it to form a new set of glyphs along the edge. My last trump card, the truth behind my Talent of Shifting: Time magic. I restored my blade to how it had been just a week before, and unlocked the hidden runes I had placed that altered the edge to cut through even time itself.

I parried an oncoming claw with the edge of my blade, the edge slicing clean through the armored forearm as if it wasn’t there. With my mana channeled into the blade though I wasn’t able to shift away from the barbed tail that snaked around and stabbed me through the gut. Blood fountained from my mouth and quickly removed the tail with the barbed point still sticking through me. I sank to a knee dodging the second claw strike that was meant to remove my head from my shoulder and lashed out to remove Nar’Shag’s left leg at the knee.A painful twist followed as the unbalanced Old One crashed forward and with the last of my strength I reversed the grip on my sword and stabbed down into the tentacle covered skull. The tendrils spasmed before falling limply as I collapsed to the ground beside my fallen foe.

I released the hold of the magic affecting my sword and watched as it crumbled as if it was a common steel blade exposed to the elements for centuries. Collapsing to the ground I managed to roll over and rest my back against a piece of the building Nar’Shag had thrown off of himself. I couldn’t even feel my magic, just the blood leaking out of my non-existent arm, as I stared up at the sky.

A few minutes later I watched as a beam of brilliant blue light shot up from where I assumed the gateway was, silhouetting the massive husks of the Old Ones still in orbit before the power ripped outwards and I saw the outlines disperse like dust in a breeze. She had succeeded, the Old Ones were destroyed for good. I smiled as I closed my eyes and said, “Not a bad way to go.”

A female voice, cold and dry, spoke from where Nar’Shag’s body laid said, “That is an option, maybe not though.”