Act 4: Falling

Scene 12: Treason

A bitter, angry look was on Kargas’s face as he hit a punching bag chained to the ceiling, shaking the upper floors with his strikes. His pattern of punching was actually quite effective. He focused more on speed than anything else, moving around the punching bag, and hitting it in a variety of unpredictable ways so that it would land an opponent a consistent amount of smaller concussions. On the punching bag was taped the picture of Nexactus’s new “elected” official, Victor Swainec, a bald, particularly overweight man who perhaps enjoyed the splendors of wealth a little too much. More of a coward himself than Benevola, he ordered most of Nexactus personnel and equipment to retreat to their moon known as Arborea, where Nexactus had already begun to build colonies, and would be much easier to defend and control than Pharavanna, which granted Nexactus diminishing returns.

Kargas wiped the sweat off of his shoulders and face with a cloth, before sitting down on his large, black couch, and picked up a cigarette filled with an organic drug known as Illabra, meaning “Off balance” in the new languages arisen from Pharavanna. The drug came from where Kargas was now, the forest of Feronia in southern Phaethon. The drug grew on the Ilabra plant, which was a plant growing near the forest floor, looking like a small bright red shrub, vaguely resembling coral. As Kargas exhaled a breath of smoke, he felt noises he heard from the fans in the room start to sound like loud static, and he saw a strange blue glow coming from outside the windows. Kargas used the Illabra drug to heighten his senses for future fights, but mostly just to get wasted. A side effect of short-to-long term use of the drug was over-aggression, which could have explained his punching earlier. A little while longer, he noticed that the double doors to his large room were open, and that another member of the mafia was pouring drinks for others downstairs. As Kargas looked down, he saw a letter left on the glass table in front of him, and he opened it to find news he didn’t exactly appreciate. As it turned out, Nexactus wasn’t exactly too keen on having its outposts blown apart by raider groups or mobsters, and so they decided instead to hold a conference to potentially make a peace negotiation with the sickle. Kargas, of course, wouldn’t have any of that, and he wholeheartedly believed that he deserved to own Phaethon completely. He was going to crash the conference, and show Nexactus how much peace he wanted. But being the last of his bloodline, which owned the mafia, though, he wasn’t going to go in unprotected. His custom-made smart armor, as well as a squadron of some of his finest fighters would be enough to keep him alive, while doing the opposite for the negotiators. Kargas arrived at the scene in a complementing red and white suit, his smart armor being well disguised. His hair was slicked backward and somewhat wild, making him seem powerful and aggressive. He entered the building from his luxurious hover car to find that it was much more of a party than it was a conference. Many-colored lights lit the inside of the building, and he could clearly see both bars where there was drinks being served, as well as strip poles where he expected the obvious individuals to be.

Later, him and his group were led into a room with a long, black table where Kargas was invited to sit at the head, obviously given favors in the hopes that he would be more lenient. A Nexactus official, Wayne Watson, was there to be doing the negotiating, as Victor was too much of a coward to come there himself. A group of strippers entered the room to pour Kargas and his men various alcoholic beverages in a fruitless attempt to sweeten the deal, but Kargas himself didn’t look convinced. Kargas sat against the chair leaning back, with his legs wide open, presenting a cool air of confidence that was unshaken by Nexactus’s alleged power. He drank the whole cocktail presented to him with one swig, before asking: “So, what’re you offering”.

Wayne was quite intimidated by Kargas’s self-presentation, and just wanted to walk out of there having a deal. The truth is, it would be a miracle if he walked out of there at all. He presented his offer: “If you and your…family stop attacking Nexactus outposts, we will give you two point five million GC’s, which holds much more profit to you up front than breaking one of our banks, for example”. Kargas waved his hand before him, as to ask for the money in cash as opposed to some other medium. He was a particularly demanding man, asking for a lot from others, but Nexactus didn’t have time to bargain. As Wayne reached into the bag to produce the bills to stave off the kills, Kargas reached into his suit and pulled out an automatic pistol, pumping Wayne full of lead before focusing his partners. Wayne was backed up by some of the most reputable and experienced commandos, who took at arms and actually did good work against Kargas’s fighting force, killing half of his skilled fighters in the first thirty seconds of fighting. Luckily, Kargas’s smart armor covered his body just in time for him to survive. His helmet plates moved over his back, neck, and covered his whole head extremely quickly.

Relatively quickly, the room was cleared. Kargas moved onto the main room, of which was filled with the most troops of all. With only half his troops remaining, Kargas knew it would be tough to get past. He took cover behind one of the elevated stages where the strippers would walk, all of them obviously fled after hearing the gunfire. His machine pistol managed to pick off some of the mobile soldiers. Beads of sweat started to drip from his forehead, him not sure how he was going to get out of this. He held his ground, though, and made sure to not let himself or brethren be killed in vain. He was just getting started, after all. 

Finally, his backup arrived. The hover car crashed through the front doors, its sleek shape coming in like a blade from the midnight sky. Its driver fired bursts of plasma from the front of the car, melting the troops that tried to take cover. Those soldiers’ aim was also true, though, and they managed to kill the driver, too, causing the vehicle to move slowly forward and to the right. The troops saw their plan to hijack the car, but luckily, Kargas was prepared. He drew perhaps his most powerful weapon, the null blade, from its sheath, and then threw it at the car as if it was a tomahawk. The initial strike of the blade did nothing, of course, but its virus within the blade managed to stun the hover car, causing it to fall down approximately two feet, before raising his machine pistol to fire through the windshield and kill everyone outside. Kargas was out of ammunition now, however, and switched to an assault rifle manufactured by Nexactus.

Now that Kargas evened the odds, it was now plausible to finish the fight. Kargas emerged from that conflict victorious, but with complications. Kargas took bullet wounds, was missing all of his fighters, and now a new conflict was arising. Two soldiers from Nexactus he had never seen came out of the last room, wearing the Nexactus Juggernaut suits, a suit of high quality armor equipped with hydraulic arm enhancers, not to mention the state of art protection. Kargas was lying against the side of the hover car, blood coming from his stomach. Kargas was injured, but not dead, and luckily for him, the Juggernauts didn’t see him instantly. Thinking quickly, he removed the null blade from the hover car, knowing as the effects of the blade were only temporary, and that the null blade would do work against the armor of his plated opponents.

Kargas played dead for as long as he needed to, as he was in no rush, but as soon as the hover car powered back on, he rolled back in, and drove as quickly as he could towards the first juggernaut, the hover car’s left side grinding against the stair railing, before crashing into the juggernaut. Kargas shot several plasma blasts from the front of the hover car until the juggernaut was torn in half by the waist. The second juggernaut was more vigilant, shooting at the hover car with a double-barreled shotgun, which hit the engine, causing it to explode right after Kargas escaped through the side door. His smart armor blocked most of the burning from the flaming engine, but he still suffered bruising and two broken ribs because of the sheer force.

The juggernaut needed time to reload, so while doing so, Kargas jumped to and from one of the small strip stages with sufficient speed, slashing his null blade into the shoulder of the juggernaut, stunning it temporarily. Then, Kargas slashed the blade in the juggernaut one final time, making the operator unable to leave the juggernaut suit, forcing the operator to die in the burning club. Kargas did all he needed to. Walking out of the club, he was confident knowing that when Nexactus police forces would arrive, his brethren would be eager to back up their boss, which they so did. Driving back in one of the hover cars he owned, Kargas was more than pleased with the message he gave.

Scene 13: Consultancy

Stavikk lay, chained to the metal cross and a bag on his head with a strange sense of confusion that overtook him, thinking how grotesquely similar this was as the mutation leading to his origins. He felt the same feeling of helplessness as he did before, but never the same sense of mystery, which was all too prominent where he was. Who were his captors, and what were their intentions?

Stolen novel; please report.

Whoever they were, they were torturers as well. They lifted Stavikk’s shirt to shock him with a strange torture device, scorching his chest with heat, sending him flailing but unable to escape nonetheless. The pain was excruciating, to say the least, and put him deeper and deeper into a less conscious state. Finally, Stavikk reached the bottom of the abyss of his mind, and hardly recognized the shocks from the torture. Barely conscious, Stavikk saw a long platform vaguely reminiscent of a church, made out of grey stone, and huge chunks of it missing. At the end of the platform, there was a huge stone stairwell with a massive stone throne at the top. Seated on the throne, there was an average-sized black-cloaked human figure wearing a golden mask. Behind the figure was a huge, broken, floating stone archway as the last solid structure he could see before abyss. The platform seemed to be lit up by a spotlight, though Stavikk could not tell where the light was coming from.

Stavikk, deeply confused and curious, walked towards the figure atop the throne. Emerging from the shadows in the stone benches were figures that came to resemble figures that were disturbingly similar to people he had seen before. In the first bench on the right side, shadowy figures emerged from cracks in the stone floor, with dissolving shadows to reveal the doctors that first experimented upon Stavikk, with huge gashes through their white lab coats, blood pouring from their wounds, staining their coats red with blood, before dripping ever so slowly. Still appearing to be alive, the two doctors eyed Stavikk depressingly, saying: “It was nothing personal…we were just trying to save our own lives”. “But, it looks like that was a fruitless attempt”, as they clutched their stomachs, soaking their hands in blood and intestinal juices. Stavikk continued towards the masked figure, with a disturbed look on his face. On the next bench, another figure appeared in the same way. “The Nighthawk” was seated there, slouched back, with his forehead appearing to be smashed in, with blood and brain matter on the bench before him, turning towards Stavikk, temporarily speechless. “I did all I could… but it wasn’t enough.” “Sorry if the hounds go after you… all this fighting isn’t worth it.” 

The next bench had someone more familial, and a reliving Alyce appeared sitting on the bench, with bullet holes through her chest. “There was no way I was getting out of there alive”. Said Alyce, deeply depressed. “You did all you could”. Stavikk, in attempt to comfort himself and Alyce, sat down and hugged her, blood on his bulletproof vest being a small price to pay for showing how much he wanted her to live. “While your intentions are good, there is no point to try to comfort a dead person”, said Alyce. “You can’t comfort me anymore”. In an instant, Stavikk’s hopeful smile was replaced by a grieving sadness. He got up, and moved on, hoping he wouldn’t have to see anyone else.

A few benches later, he saw three figures instead of one. Dolph and Aubrina were sitting on one bench, while Commander Sanders was sitting on the opposite bench, each with something to say. Dolph said: “It’s good to see at least one of you made it out alive”, cracking a slight smile, which betrayed the small bullet hole in the back of his head, and large bullet hole in the front of his head. Aubrina, with scorched skin and covered with shrapnel all over her body, turned to Stavikk, saying: “I was so stupid not to order us to flee”. “Doing what I did was asking for us to be killed”. Sanders had a much more disturbing appearance. He was still wearing his armor, but had scorched, black skin, and a huge, deep crack in the middle of his forehead and nose area. All that sanders said was: “You, are such a jackass”, before slouching back, arms crossed around his chest.

Finally, Stavikk made it to the final two benches, where appeared three figures on one bench, and two on the other. Stavikk’s dead allies, Evan, Gabriello, and Elyse, were on one bench, and Diabolus and Benevola on the other. Gabriello, the first one to die, clutched his stomach wounds with his biological and cybernetic hands, with sheer hopelessness across his face. “What a tragedy”, said Gabriello. “We should have never set foot on that tower”. Elyse, much more disturbingly, turned towards Stavikk, having scorched skin, as well as having most of her facial features melted off. The seal of melted flesh that trapped her lips together grotesquely broke, as she said: “Don’t worry about me now, Stavikk.” “I’m done fighting”. Diabolus was the next one to talk, strangely, and he had something very unexpected to say. Diabolus, before he spoke, ripped off his voice modulator from his larynx with his crushed, broken arms. His whole body appeared to be flattened and scorched, as well as covered in bullets. In a weak, soft voice, Diabolus said: “Don’t mourn for my death, Stavikk”. “Benevola ended my life long ago, and always had her way with me”, as he pointed to a chip implanted to the back of his head and neck.

Benevola was the next to speak. Her body appeared to be almost broken in half, covered in bullet holes and shrapnel. She said: “You think you’re such goddamn heroes, don’t you.” “You think you actually stood for something, fulfilling some higher purpose, but you’re not”. “See, this isn’t any happy ending now.” “Now that we’re gone, you’re not going to like who comes next in power on this hellhole of a planet”. “In fact, if you hadn’t been such a dumbass in the first place, maybe you wouldn’t be standing here listening to me talk”. “Do you believe that I’m somehow still alive?” “Oh, how feeble your mind is, Smokecutter”. Stavikk, ashamed, turned his attention away, towards an even worse prospect. Evan Scorchfield was sitting down, with a stone spike coming out of the bench impaling him through his chest, clearly resembling the one that impaled him in actuality. Stavikk, breaking into tears, said: “I’m… sorry you had to die”. “I…I… just wish I could have found you in different circumstances”. “I know”, said Evan. “I know”.

“See the consequences of your actions?” Asked Benevola, a condescending tone in her voice. Instantly, all of Stavikk’s sadness turned into unfettered rage, responding saying: “Shut the fuck up you fucking cunt!” before punching Benevola straight across the face, knocking two of her teeth out. Benevola laughed, spitting her teeth out, along with blood onto the floor in front of her, saying: “You can’t kill me, dumbass”. “I’m already dead”. 

Finally, Stavikk had nothing else to do. Sinking his head into his hands, crying, he completely lost hope. Just when everything seemed like it was going to fall apart for Stavikk, a comforting pat on the back came from someone who seemed all too familiar. Stavikk, turning around, saw Ralph Woodhill standing behind him. Ralph stood out to Stavikk, not because he was someone Stavikk didn’t know, but because he didn’t have any lethal wounds apparent on his body, only a white bandage around his left upper arm, seeming only to be a flesh wound. Also, Olivia Osgood walked up to Stavikk from the other side of the lane in between the benches. Olivia tipped her cowboy hat towards Stavikk, understanding his plight, her sniper rifle still in hands.

It was now Benevola that was speechless. After a while of reconciliation, Benevola said to Olivia: “You stupid bitch”. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, or what psychotic murderers you’re working with”. “And how did your path end for you?” asked Olivia, shutting Benevola up for good. The group of three then approached the masked figure, not knowing who, or what it was. The masked figure communicated telepathically, saying that it understood Stavikk, Ralph, and Olivia, and what their goals were. This figure also said that it knew how Stavikk could escape, but in return, the masked figure needed help as well. It said it couldn’t tell them who it was, but told them who kidnapped Stavikk in the first place, the Red Sickle. Stavikk had never heard of such a group as the Red Sickle, and was extremely curious to know more information. Was the red sickle a defecting division of Nexactus? A barbaric faction? An alien force? Stavikk had so many questions going through his head, but not nearly enough answers. The masked figure told Stavikk that it was running out of time, and it was time to return to the conscious world. Time, to wake up. Suddenly, the masked figure evaporated into pitch-black vapor, leaving only the golden mask behind. The stone throne lowered into the stairway, and the archway behind became a portal-like appliance, Stavikk seeing the torture room behind it. He walked through the portal, the mask’s color shifting from gold to red and white, but still maintaining the same shape.

Stavikk attached himself to the cross again, and a bag put over his head once more. Finally, the bag was ripped off, Stavikk seeing his captors, and Kargas, who walked in with the door wide open. Kargas’s Smart armor, Stavikk noticed, had the same style of mask as he saw earlier, that had the Red sickle emblem painted on it with red and white. The mask pieces slid off to reveal Kargas’s face, which looked rivaling, even to Stavikk. Kargas was a fierce man, and his defined facial features reflected that very much. Kargas was Asian in descent, and had jet-black hair that was slicked back and spiked, making him seem chaotic and wild. He also had a scar from his left cheekbone all the way down to the bottom of his nose, giving him a slightly grizzled appearance. Kargas glared at Stavikk, before shouting in some foreign language that Stavikk could not decipher. Stavikk looked back, confused, and at a loss of what to say in response. Kargas, frustrated, resorted to another method. Kargas reached into his suit to produce a Nexactus officer badge still with blood all over it, and had a shining purple “N” being projected.

Expecting this to imply that he was part of Nexactus, Stavikk followed his first instinct, to shake his head, distancing his affiliation with the corporation. While the Red Sickle had no advanced lie-detecting technology, Kargas took Stavikk’s response at face value, which was fair enough. This, of course, was because Stavikk didn’t seem at all like your average Nexactus personnel. In fact, he didn’t look like anyone that Kargas had ever seen. Kargas inferred this: Stavikk wasn’t part of Nexactus, yet he ended up near up until recently Nexactus conquered territory, alone, and without supplies. Was Stavikk some sort of humble defector, or unrelated to the corporation in the first place? Kargas suspected the former, given that Stavikk eagerly rejected the prospect of being with them, but Kargas didn’t know for sure. While Kargas would have pursued the investigation for longer, he decided to attend to other matters, and he still had more opportunity for plunder still ahead of him. The night, after all, was still young, and Kargas still had many goals ahead.