Washington, D.C., November, 2056
The first Tuesday of the month.
Election day turned to Election night.
Polling places closed.
Votes began counting.
Well, not exactly.
They had been counting them up since voting had opened 28 days earlier.
Alin had vaguely known that from his studies back in kid school.
He had always thought it was weird that the old country held elections on a Tuesday.
Back then people had to work during the same time, so it didn’t make sense to have elections in the middle of the week.
Sure, there were laws that supposedly gave people a few hours off to go vote, but in practice, depending on where one’s polling place was it could take much longer than that to actually make it through the long lines.
Voter suppression.
He remembered the lessons on the tricks certain groups used to depress the votes from the groups they didn’t want voting.
One party couldn’t win straight up, so they had to cheat.
From what he had observed of this election, not much had changed on that account.
Congresswoman Brinley Johnson-Lopez, his employer and unwitting pawn of his dad, had won in a landslide.
He had to admit that she did good for a lot of people.
Spent proportionally a lot more of her own wealth and what she got from donors on things like, food, rent-aid and medicine for said people compared to her peers and those higher up the ladder than her.
Which meant that she would’ve won even if her opponent hadn’t been a token to create the illusion of competition.
A lot of the election contest was like that.
The political machinery put token opponents up against the preferred candidates like they were running a play or the exhibition matches the GCA put on alongside the legitimate ones.
Steph had compared it to his collection of ancient pro wrestling vids.
And they did it all in the name of stability.
The fancy hotel had fancy ballrooms.
The congresswoman had rated one of the larger ones for her victory party as a sign that her efforts of the past year had borne fruit.
On top of the Mist Spekters, she had expanded her personal defense force threefold with other mercenary groups and adventuring bands.
She had even spent resources on matching uniforms.
Light blue and dark gray.
A little too close to the style used by the combined armed forces for his liking, but not nearly as fascist, so he could stomach wearing it. Not that he had a choice in the matter.
Word in the halls of power was that a few more terms of continued upward trajectory could see her challenging for a Senate seat.
Alin stood at the railing overlooking the ballroom floor and its sea of humanity.
Men and women in expensive clothes mingled at the tables arranged around the dance floor, which was mostly empty since the party had just officially started.
Sharply dressed waiters and waitresses moved through like sharks, except if sharks brought food to the other fish.
Not a good analogy.
His wrist vibrated.
He swept the crowd, touching each person with a wispy tendril of gray they couldn’t see, let alone sense. Then he did the same to every single person elsewhere in the hotel.
Mostly staff.
There were only a few residents remaining in their rooms and suites. Most were down in the party or at other parties if they weren’t the congresswoman’s supporters or they just didn’t care about the election and were enjoying less crowded restaurants and other such venues throughout the city.
Naturally, those were the elites.
Regular people were at home preparing for another long day at work on the morrow.
The few exceptions were the ones the politicians had invited to their parties as more tokens.
The congresswoman had reserved 10% of her tables for such people.
He wondered what the other parties were like.
Luzi or Catelin would know.
They were in charge of the Mist Spekter’s local politics information gathering team.
“Still clear,” he said into the comms.
“Copy, that. Resetting the clock,” Alana said.
She was in a conference room closer to the front lobby that they had commandeered to use as a command post.
15 minutes until next check.
He reset his watch.
One hour.
Two.
Each check the same as the last.
“— is she winning—”
“— course she is. It’s a scam—”
“Watch it—”
Conversations flowed through his ear piece.
“Convoy incoming!”
“Ident?”
“Unknown. Gov plates.”
“Aw shit!”
“— bet VIP bullshit—”
“I’ll take that.”
“Me too.”
“Cut the chatter.” Galen’s voice broke through. “Hold for orders.”
Alin searched the crowd and found his captain walking briskly to the congresswoman’s table.
A brief word was had.
He touched a tendril to the congresswoman.
Surprise.
Nervousness.
And a tinge of fear.
Not good, congresswoman, he thought, you’re getting to be a bigger fish. That means the sharks are going to come to take a look.
Speaking of taking a look.
It was within range so he reached out to said convoy and—
Almost fell to his knees!
He recoiled the gray like a hand pressed on a red hot pan.
There was a lot of power out there.
Though that wasn’t what had almost had him puke his guts out.
No.
It was the thing he had been trying to track down for over a year.
He felt it out there.
Like a golden beacon flashing bright enough to sear his eyes and blaring loud enough to burst his eardrums.
“Red. 187. Parmesan.”
He got the warning code out somehow.
“Copy that,” Galen said. Calm and collected, as cold as the mist he could exude and control. “Pass the words back to base. Follow protocols.”
Which meant radio silence on the specific topic while the weaker and non-essential Mist Spekters quietly and calmly headed back to base where they’d start prepping to bail on the city.
As for the non-Mist Spekters?
Alin wouldn’t argue that they might end up having a right to a grudge if the worst case scenario happened.
“Alin!” Kat burst through the door.
Brittney and Michael stood back, guarding the door as they had been all night to make sure he had the section all to himself.
He had to lean on her shoulder on account of limbs suddenly gone heavy.
“It’s here.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. I have to get closer.”
They had theorized that the central ritual for the barriers around the enemy’s territories could have been focused into something much smaller than the stone circles of varying sizes they had found elsewhere. Perhaps a stone or a gem or a skull. Anything was possible.
It would account for its mobility.
This meant that someone had to be carrying it with them and there weren’t many people they could imagine such a vital piece of magic being entrusted to.
“I need to see them walking in. Maybe I can pin it down.”
Kat helped him out to the second floor landing overlooking the front lobby.
Galen had emerged from the ballroom with a guard around the congresswoman, Reg, Milly and a few other staffers to take pictures and do wrangling.
Luzi and Catelin were in the thick of that crowd.
“— eyes on a couple of winged eidolons over the northwest building—”
“Be specific.”
“Two maybe Three. It’s not like they’re standing still.”
The convoy’s security detail came in first.
Earthian soldiers.
Heavily armed and armored.
Just like the congresswoman’s forces stationed outside the hotel and in the lobby.
Unlike Alin, Kat, Galen and the rest that had to mingle with the party.
His gut roiled as bad as the gray.
He bit down, straining to keep it from bubbling over the pot.
“Damn it!”
Kat gripped him tighter.
“What’s wrong, Alin?”
He couldn’t say.
Too risky with the potential for spells and Skills to pick up his words despite the countermeasures on him.
The gray was agitated like a cat backed into a corner by a tiger.
The last time he had felt that way was back home over 3 years ago when the demigod had murdered dear friends.
Instinct wanted him to shout a warning, but the rational part of him knew that would seal their fates.
A warning gave them nothing.
They had to rely on the cover story.
A woman entered the lobby.
Perfection.
As if carved by a master out of marble rather than born of flesh and blood.
The Eidolon of Sunor looked like a teacher shepherding her young students with the way she made the burly soldiers look short.
More eidolons followed, but none matched her grandeur.
Everyone, from Galen to the congresswoman quailed in her presence despite the beatific smile she graced them with.
The gray strained at its metaphorical leash.
Greetings and pleasantries were exchanged.
One side decidedly more nervous than the other.
Alin didn’t have eyes for that.
His attention had been snatched by who followed the eidolons.
The president with more bodyguard was… irrelevant.
Suiteonemiades.
Obsidian skin.
Bulging and chiseled muscles exposed by his attire of a simple white man skirt.
Shirtless, shoeless, weaponless.
Armored only with that strange, long, bulbous helmet of glossy black that looked as if crafted for a different species.
The gray howled!
He felt like hurling his guts or himself over the railing to leap upon the murderer of Ibra, Primal, Howard, Kynnro, Jayde and her baby, along with thousands of others, many by his own hands, more by his actions. The taker of Madalena, Aims and others.
He felt a strong hand on his shoulders.
Not Kat’s, she had him around the waist and she wasn’t nearly that strong.
He could almost feel a hand turning his head around.
There was a hint of a face in the gray?
Almost like his grandfather.
Disapproval?
“Alin!” Kat hissed.
“I’m sure now.” He bored lasers into the demigod.
They had been together for so long that Kat clocked it immediately.
“Okay. That’s good. We follow protocols.”
She spoke calmly, but he didn’t need the gray to feel her trembling, to hear the slight rattle of her sheathed katana in her hand.
The demigod waited his turn after the president to exchange greetings with the congresswoman and seemingly everyone in her party. He bent lower so he could try to match them eye to eye as he gently shook their hands in his giant one gently like he was a benevolent and humble person rather than the murderer he truly was.
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Golden eyes gazed upon the crowd with an easy smile as if searching—
They snapped to him.
A triumphant glint.
He tried to push Kat away.
“Touch goes both ways, young one.”
Alin’s world exploded into searing gold.
----------------------------------------
Earth, November, 2056
“Red. 187. Parmesan.”
Key words spoken into old radios. Picked up by spy network of insectile drones. Sent up into the Omninet. Received by a handful of people directly into their many devices.
T-Plus 00:30…
“Ignore all. Return message: I will get back to you.”
“Cal!” Nila had an override, obviously.
“I’m moving.”
“Me too!”
“No. We’ve talked about this.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry, Love, but this time it’s really too dangerous for you.”
“Our boy—”
“I know, so please, let me focus on him.”
“Just— please bring him back…”
“I promise, Love. Computer.”
“Awaiting command.”
“Send message to Group 187. Deicide.”
“Acknowledged.”
They could refuse, he had graciously allowed them that.
“Send message to Group Old School Rangers. Sacrifice Fly.”
That twisted his gut.
T-Plus 02:37…
Ranger Captain Hardhat cursed.
“Where is it!”
Her desk was a mess.
She had been meaning to properly organize it for weeks now and, well, there had never been enough time.
Everything else was all set.
Her best gear was by the front door as it had been for months now.
Her precious hardhat was on her head.
Fancy Threnosh onesie felt like wearing nothing at all.
Thank God that she couldn’t avoid staying in shape even for a woman getting up there in years.
Otherwise it wouldn’t been embarrassing to walk around in just the skin-tight outfit.
Special armor, best armor she’d ever wear was waiting for her on the Raynanaut.
The doorbell rang.
“Damn it! Where are you, you rat—”
Ah…
One of the desk drawers was cracked open a bit.
A faint glow leaked out.
Greenish.
She yanked it open and pulled out a rolled up scroll.
Fancy.
She snorted.
She had wanted to use normal human paper, but had been advised that something otherworldly was better if she really wanted to make sure that her last will and testament could survive the potential worst case scenarios.
She shrugged.
If she couldn’t believe an ancient not-elf, then who could she believe?
The doorbell rang.
“Coming!”
She practically flung the door open and thrust the scroll into surprised hands.
“Cap—”
Ranger Candys was caught between a salute and taking the scroll.
“At ease. Take that straight to HQ. Make sure they officially accept it and file it. I’m serious, I order you not to let it out of your sight until they do it all proper like.”
“Um—”
“Don’t worry. I left instructions. They should know what to do. If not, I order you to knock some heads… with your hands.” She regarded the ranger’s hooves. “Yeah, no kicking.” She had seen those deadly weapons punch through chitin stronger than steel.
“Yessir!”
The hybrid spun and bounded away.
And that was that.
They could do whatever they wanted with the rest of her stuff, house included.
The hardhat on her head was the only thing that truly mattered anyways.
She had grown more worried over the years at what would happen to it since she didn’t have anymore kin left to pass it on.
As usual, magic bullshit might’ve given her the solution.
“Only one way to find out.”
It was unfortunate that she’d never know if it worked.
Hardhat went back inside just to grab her gear.
The night air was cold and she breathed deeply just to get that salty brine one last time… possibly… oh, who was she kidding, it was more like probably.
She pulled the door shut, not bothering to lock it.
She hesitated only a moment before speaking into her watch.
“I’m ready.”
A split-second and she flew into the sky with a whoop.
It had been a while and she savored it.
T-plus 3:49…
“Get off me!”
Long fingers with sharp nails encrusted with filth scratched at his face, trying to dig into his face holes.
A small release of solar energy seared them away.
A glance burned through armor of wood and leaves, revealing a body cavity filled with nothing but decayed matter. A mix of plant and animal from the looks and smell.
The Fae were always fucked up.
This so-called Court of Autumn’s Decay was no different from all the other random ass-pull courts that had popped up along with the Wild Hunts over the years.
“By warp and weft we address your theft—”
“Shut up, your rhymes suck.
He blurred forward, ripping the baronet apart.
Prince, princess, dukes and duchesses, barons and baroness… he and his daughter had worked their way down the list quickly.
“Dad!” Lera called out.
He snapped his attention to her, ignoring the knights’ ineffectual attacks.
Ah…
She hadn’t called out in fear, but excitement.
They grew up so fast.
He could only sigh.
She was technically an adult now and he couldn’t use the whole being a minor thing as an excuse.
Lera stood atop a pile of Fae mush.
A small hill really.
The fight ended minutes after it had started.
Bait the fight, kill the Fae.
They wouldn’t be able to slither out of their realm to hunt his daughter for awhile, which freed her up to help elsewhere in the world.
“Let’s go! Alin needs help!”
She tensed, gathering her legs to launch herself into the sky.
True flight was relatively new to her, so she still had to start it with a jump.
He blurred over, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t pretend you forgot the plan, young lady.”
“But—”
“No.” He pointed at the skyship many kilometers overhead. A cadre of witches from Wytchraven’s coven were already on board, having portaled up there before the Fae had attacked. “You can help more effectively. Listen to orders. I’m going to be worried about you enough, so don’t add more.”
Shit was fucked world wide.
Alerts and calls for help where coming in over the Omninet from every corner of the globe.
It stank of collusion.
The Stone Lords launching an all out assault from their mountain fortress across much of Southern China was definitely coordinated since they were part of the pantheon.
Other outworld polities launching their own attacks seemed more like taking advantage of the situation.
It didn’t take a large leap to guess that they all had their own surveillance and spying methods or perhaps it was as simple as the demigod telling them that it was a good time since the checks on them were about to be distracted.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, Dad.”
No pout. No glare.
“You’re growing! I’m proud of you!”
And there’s the pout!
“Be safe and be smart.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Hug!”
Reluctantly at first, but tree-breaking at the end.
“You be careful.”
“I will.”
T-plus 07:15…
The Phoenix Empress prepared to fly out to do battle.
There was just one last annoyance to deal with.
“My family will be sufficient replacements.”
“No.”
She wanted to crush the phone and then melt it to slag for good measure.
“Explain yourself.”
“I don’t have time— fine. Your 2nd generation has a 50% chance of survival. The 3rd generation has 10%. Strength and combat sense skews things.”
“That’s acceptable.”
“Strategically and tactically, they’re and you’re better off with them fighting your all out war.”
“The Quest—”
“Rewards aren’t worth anything if they aren’t alive to claim them. You really need to stop treating them like disposable assets.”
“I hold all of my subjects to the same standards as myself.”
“Listen, come or not. The choice is yours, like I’ve always maintained. Just don’t use those portal stones to send your babies. They’ll get in the way and most of them will die.”
“They aren’t babies. Most of them are grown.”
“Regardless, 10 can cover more territory than 1. And they’re mostly strong enough for what you need against the Stone Lords. You’re the one with the power to take on a demigod or multiple eidolons. You know the Quest. You know what you stand to gain. And I will owe you… to an extent.”
“I would personally enjoy finally humbling the Americans.”
“They’ve had plenty of that since the spires appeared.”
“I’ll reconsider.”
“Thank you, but don’t take too long.”
T-plus 09:53…
Hmm…
Hmmmmm…
Hmmmmmmmm…
Holly had just received an order from the voice in her head that wasn’t her own.
I don’t know where Suiteonemiades’ took them. I don’t know where to start looking. Yes, I will wait.
She gave a mental shrug and refocused on her surroundings.
The White House was awash with activity.
None of the principals were present, having gone out to make appearances at various Election parties and events for handshaking and speeches.
However, it was still like a hive kicked open.
The president hadn’t been up for election, but it seemed to her that fact hadn’t made a difference in how closely the staff were watching said election results come pouring in.
As part of the staff pool she had to take care of random duties as they popped up.
It was a long walk to the kitchen to check on the status of the next round of snacks and refreshments.
Which was good because it would give her time to plan the best way to get the more innocent people to evacuate the building before it was set on fire.
T-plus 09:54…
Kranaxus heard the call.
He answered reluctantly.
The Cruces had given him and the others the ability to re-live their memories like vivid dreams while their false bodies performed their duties as commanded by the demigods or more often, one of the eidolons.
Automatons.
They had been created by ripping their brains from their natural bodies and jamming it inside artifice abominations.
From across hundreds of worlds and hundreds of species.
From as recent as a decade in the past to as far as several millennia.
The Cruces had promised Kranaxus home before freedom to join his long dead family.
It had sounded impossible to find one world, one grain of sand in a beach that stretched along an infinite coast.
However, hope had been enough and along with the ability to re-live his real life through his memories it had given him the strength to endure his abominable existence.
Now?
Automatons with their freedom of thought like him were scattered. They had been inserted by the Cruces in key locations. Sabotage, assassinations and such were in their hands.
Or they could walk to the closest spire when chaos erupted to find their own ways home.
He had made his decision.
A chance to strike back.
To bleed them like they had him and his people.
Kranaxus knew peace in that moment.
Whether the Cruces could keep the promise of home didn’t matter.
The Great Loom had woven his fate long ago.
He’d relish even the smallest measure of vengeance before his weaving finished.
He would show his family, his people, that in the end, the enemy had bled.
T-plus 09:55…
“Shit fuck shit,” Mouthy mumbled.
“Still too far?” Spiritwalker eyed her dubiously.
“Don’t burn yourself out too soon,” Hardhat said.
“Where are we?” she replied through grit teeth.
“Edge of atmosphere, over Oklahoma,” Captain Butcher said.
Without Aims, they were what remained of the original 13th Squad.
Her, Hardhat, Aims and the captain.
Funny that she still mentally thought of Captain Butcher as ‘Captain’ when everyone inside one of the skyship’s spare offices had the rank.
More would’ve been better, but the weight of her bonds mattered to her Skill.
The weight of their classes and levels.
The weight of their responsibilities.
The three of them wouldn’t have been enough.
It was why she had reluctantly asked Spiritwalker and Creepy Chipmunk.
They hadn’t been original 13th Squad, but had joined up in the Manila thing.
As far as she was concerned they where just as much a part of the squad as she was.
Now, that had made her feel lower than a fat rapist’s taint smear.
The two men had kids for fuck’s sake and here they were about to jump into a kraken’s beaky maw.
But they hadn’t hesitated.
Captains with levels.
Hopefully, their combined weight was enough to balance the scales for her Skill.
“How about we wait for Cal to give the go ahead?” Creepy Chipmunk continued to sharpen the edge of his Igorot axe.
“Fucking shit! Alright fine.” She stopped trying.
“We’re still too far,” Hardhat said like she was trying to soothe a dumbass toddler that couldn’t figure out why the square block just wouldn’t fucking-goddamn-fit inside the triangle hole.
At least neither of them had left any kids.
Poor bastards.
Orphan-hood sucked shit and Mouthy knew that it was always just around the corner in the spires world especially for a ranger.
Granted she had made it this far, but she figured a lot of that had to do with blind luck and taking it easy as she had gotten older.
She caught her reflection in the faceplate of her helmet on the table.
Shit fuck shit! Wrinkly ass gray-haired bitch! Too old for this—. Nah… perfect for this.
They said 60 was the new 45.
And there were tons of safe shit that would’ve smoothed out the wrinkles and put color back to the hair without looking obvious.
She supposed it was more of a mindset anyways.
Objectively speaking, she had to acknowledge that the gray was only at about 50%.
“Distance is a problem, but what’s worse is I’m getting two separate hits. One’s clear like a spotlight. The other’s like a flickering candle. And I can only do one.”
“Thoughts?” Captain Butcher opened it up to the other captains.
“Candle,” Hardhat said.
The others agreed.
“I bet the strong signal is the guys trying to fight their way out of the city,” Spiritwalker said. “Which means the demigod’s going to be with the weaker one. Probably, has something to do with how he’s untraceable. A shielded facility or something like that.”
Switch out with who they could.
Destroy the thingie keeping Cal and Eron from entering the city and… problem solved.
If their survival wasn’t factored into the equation.
T-plus 09:59…
“Begin recording.”
Cal had reached the edge of the barrier keeping him outside seconds after he had dropped the rangers off on the Raynanaut.
Two other skyships were already in the area with more on the way.
The first thing he had done was to invade the minds of everyone.
He had found nothing to lead him to where the demigod had taken his son and the Mist Spekters.
He pushed their thoughts, forcing the more innocent ones away from areas that where about to be inimical to human life.
He prepared to activate hidden agents, forcing the worst ones to turn on each other.
But first a message to the populace so that they knew why.
“People of America. My name is Calmin Honorio Gerzan Cruces. Your leaders have lied to you since the beginning. The eidolons have lied to you. The demigod has lied to you. Their crimes against humanity, including all of you, are staggering. They have sent you and your loved ones to die for their benefit. To remove potential challenges against their control. They have forced your children into a mad eidolon’s gruesome procedure against their will. For every 10 subjected, 8 died, 1 suffered a fate worse than death. The sole survivor? Your hybrid supersoldiers. Doomed to an existence of constant violence until they meet their ends at the claws and teeth of some monster or an enemy’s weapons. And now? They are about to unleash the nightmare they first released on those you claim to be fellow citizens. The people of Austin, Texas— Sacrifices. There have been many sacrifices to fuel their magic rituals. Not just so-called enemies, but you, yourselves. Your people go missing everyday, don’t they?” He paused. “Belief is irrelevant in the face of proof. Release the Mist Spekters unharmed and give me the location of the demigod, Suiteonemiades. Do this and I will fight the outworlders and their monsters. I will do everything in my power to save your lives. You have 5 minutes to decide. Scream your answers to the sky. I will hear them. It doesn’t matter who you are or what your position is. From president to the custodians keeping your bunker command center clean. If you know anything useful then I will reward you.”
No more sandbagging.
The Omninet was superior to the Internet they had re-established.
They had rejected his offer to open the Omninet up to them, but that didn’t matter.
The message went out to every device capable of receiving it.
Wireless or wired.
There were no closed networks to the advanced technology at his disposal.
Next, he dumped years of evidence straight to their devices.
All of them.
Recordings, pictures and documents.
They wouldn’t have time to do more than give them a cursory glance tonight, but in the coming days…
Millions of Quest notifications pinged for the people below him.
He gave them a cursory glance.
“Fuck you, spires.”
As always, they spurred greater conflict.
Defend, flee, betray and more.
“That is not helpful.”
He pushed a thought into their heads.
To prioritize their survival and that of their neighbors.
He chose not to do more because it would take too much of his power and concentration, which would leave him open to attack from the demigods.
Then he reached into the thoughts of a few key individuals, planting thoughts.
The choice was theirs.
The rest of his focus and power went to the futile search for his son, cousin and the others.
T-plus 16:00…
They responded with violence.