Now, Threnosh World
Explosions lit up the dark night.
Aerial drones dropped bombs across the entire front lines of the 3rd Legion. They were followed by tracked drones spitting projectiles at the cragant forces thrown into disarray.
The Threnosh soldiers followed after. Their recoilless rifles and miniguns spat out projectiles.
The cragants were caught off guard. The Threnosh had ever only fought defensive battles. They had never gone on the offensive, outside of the handful of unique ones.
Perhaps the 3rd Legion could’ve staved off disaster by requesting reinforcements from the other legions. They didn’t do this. Pride prevented it. The cragants wouldn’t admit to requiring aide in battle against tiny and weak beings.
A mistake.
Primal blew a hole in the cragant’s shield wall with a supersonic arrow. “The way is clear.”
“Acknowledged.”
Caretaker and Tynk clung to Resplendent Zabriium’s back as they thundered through the opening. Silver Wolf loped behind them in their four-legged canine form, while Whoosh zoomed ahead with a burst of speed from their pulsing jets.
“Clearing the route,” Whoosh said into the comms.
“Moderate your speed. Timing is crucial,” Caretaker said.
“Acknowledged.”
Caretaker heard the impatience in Whoosh’s tone. They switched the channel directly to Resplendent Zabriium. “Increase speed by twenty percent.”
“Acknowledged. Hold on tighter,” Resplendent Zabriium said.
Even though Caretaker and Tynk did so the surge of speed threatened to throw them off.
A cragant came rushing at them from the front with a thrusting spear.
Resplendent Zabriium parried it with their poleaxe and cut a line across the giant humanoid’s hamstring as they galloped past, all without slowing down. They delivered a kick to the back of the cragant’s helmet with their hind legs as they left it behind.
Caretaker monitored communications. They were keyed into both their team’s channel and the greater channel covering the entire Threnosh force. They devoted most of their attention to this. They trusted Resplendent Zabriium to get them where they needed to be without micromanagement.
“Next coordinates,” Primal said.
Volkharion switched their view to the insectile drones they had already deployed to the next set of targets. They checked the data twice before sending them to Primal.
Three seconds passed then there was a bright flash of light. The feed from Volkharion’s drones went dark. They were off-line. They were dead. Consumed in the explosion of Primal’s arrow along with the cragant guard post.
“Good shot,” Caretaker said. “We are clear.”
Volkharion was both pleased and displeased. The successfully completed task didn’t need explanation. The loss of their drones upset them in a way that they struggled to quantify.
“Next,” Primal said.
Volkharion focused on their task and switched their view to the next set of drones.
Caretaker watched the sleek, silvery arrow descending from the dark sky like a meteorite. Their predictive algorithm allowed them to slow it down in their view. They took a moment to appreciate it before they looked away as the explosion lit up the darkness with a bloom of orange-yellow light.
“Another guard post is down,” Tynk said.
“This is not as difficult as expected,” Resplendent Zabriium said.
“Our difficulties have yet to begin,” Caretaker said. They switched their face-plate overlay to the overhead tactical map. It was a prescient move. Only they could’ve detected the looming problem to the southern edge of the Threnosh battle line. They assessed which T-Men were capable of intervention in a split-second as well as the optimal approach. “Blueballs, require interdiction of enemy advance at these coordinates,” they sent them with a thought, “Dralig, Malendrax head to the same coordinates. You will need to hold the enemy back until the area is reinforced.”
“Acknowledged,” the three replied in unison.
They didn’t question the order even if they didn’t see any problems when they checked the tactical map.
Caretaker sent the same message to Senior Commander Saldin Flats 326. They hoped that the senior commander heeded the warning. Otherwise their teammates would find themselves outnumbered.
“Adjudicator, join your teammates.” Caretaker sent the same coordinates. They wouldn’t make the mistake of trusting the command staff. They kept a close watch on the developments even if they had already done all that they could.
Blueballs hitched a ride on a tracked automated turret drone. It got them to the coordinates Caretaker ordered quicker than running. They regretted the mistake as soon as they saw what faced them.
A large force of cragants had smashed the drones and soldiers and were poised to run up the rear of the entire Threnosh battle line.
“Time to reinforcement?” Blueballs said into the comms.
“Irrelevant. You are all that is required to slow the enemy,” Caretaker said.
“Acknowledged,” Blueballs sighed.
They hopped off the drone and ran behind some structures. They stuck close to the walls. The cragants were huge and had proven capable of seeing down over the roofs of the single level structures. They saw that the bulk of the giant humanoids were going split their line to pass a larger, three level structure.
Blueballs sprinted for the structure. The doors slid open and they dashed inside. An overlay of the interior projected onto their face-plate. They ran into the darkness to the west side. A window opened at their touch and they quickly sprayed dozens of small blue balls down to the street. They filled up the ground next to the structure and as far as their maximum range allowed. They then sprinted to the east side and did the same.
Blueballs exited the structure and ran back toward their own lines. They heard confused curses coming from the cragants. Their plan worked, so far.
“Blueballs, we are approaching the area. Status report,” Dralig said into the comms.
“I have slowed the majority of the enemy,” Blueballs said.
“Remain on site to provide support for Malendrax and myself,” Dralig said.
Blueballs sighed. “Acknowledged.” They scanned the area for a good spot to stay out of the way, while still being close enough to shoot.
Dralig and Malendrax ran by Blueballs a few minutes later. The former carried two miniguns in their four hands, while the latter held two hard containers in each over-sized fist.
“Here,” Malendrax thrust one of the containers to Blueballs. “Grenades.”
“Follow us,” Dralig said.
They circled to the west of the cragants, who were vainly trying to pull their boots free off Blueballs’ sticky balls. Some had the brilliant idea of removing their boots. Unfortunately they hadn’t noticed that the balls covered a large swath of ground. Those were now stuck by their socks. None dared risk their bare feet.
“We will move from east to west on my pace. I will fire projectiles then you will throw grenades. Attempt to spread out the damage. Our main objective is to create maximum casualties in order to halt the enemy assault. Failing that, we injure as much as possible to aid the eventual regular Threnosh reinforcements, if, when they arrive,” Dralig said.
Dralig sprayed projectiles from dual miniguns at the vulnerable backs of the cragants.
The giant humanoids were stuck to the street. They couldn’t turn around to defend themselves. Hundreds of projectiles ripped into the backs of their legs.
Dralig aimed with purpose. The thick, steel armor that protected their entire torsos didn’t extend down past their waists. The cragants’ clothing was thick and tough, but not strong enough to withstand concentrated fire.
Dralig didn’t kill any, but they took away their ability to move.
Some cragants threw their shields behind them to protect their legs. These were singled out by Malendrax’s and Blueballs’ grenades.
The three moved quickly along the cragant line. They neared the end when a loud, deep note sounded across the night sky.
“Enemy reinforcements are less than two minutes from your position,” Caretaker said into the comms. “Adjudicator is four minutes away. Threnosh soldiers are two minutes away.”
Dralig switched their view to the overhead tactical map.
A large cragant force approached at a run from the south.
“These do not appear to be from the same legion,” Dralig said.
“Flag markings indicate 1st Legion,” Caretaker said.
The particular legion had experienced the most losses from their numerous engagements and were now mainly used to protect the inner layers of the cragant territory and provide emergency reinforcements.
“The enemy is not responding as you projected,” Dralig said.
“Accurate statement. You must hold that position,” Caretaker said.
“How long?”
“A minimum of fifteen minutes.”
“I request fire support from Primal.”
“Ten minutes at the earliest,” Caretaker said without hesitation.
“Acknowledged,” Dralig said. “Succeed in the Task.”
“Thank you and I state the same to you.”
A loud chime sounded in the trio’s ears.
Task Received.
Defend your position.
Success Parameters: Hold your position for at least 15:00 minutes.
Failure Parameter: Retreat before the required time or allow the enemy to overrun your position.
Reward: 20000 Universal Points.
Will you accept?
“Caretaker gave the orders… yet the spires’ system presents us with a choice,” Malendrax said.
“Does that mean it is not required?” Blueballs ventured.
“No,” Dralig said flatly. “Your concern is irrelevant. Judging by the reward this will not be a difficult Task.”
“Yes, only forty percent of the standard boss and secret boss battle,” Malendrax said. “Although, we have been warned of overconfidence in the past.”
“Acknowledged,” Dralig said. “Let us prepare our defenses. Blueballs,” they pointed down the streets of the cragants’ approach, “do you have enough reserves to cover six streets with your sticky substance?”
“Yes.”
“Do it. Then take shelter in the three-level structure. We will use that as our fortification.” Dralig cast their miniguns to the ground. They were out of ammunition. They drew their spire-made rectangular shield from their back and their spire-made short, stabbing blade from its sheath at their side. “Malendrax and I will proceed with strike and evade tactics.”
The cragants charged right into Blueballs’ stick traps. The Threnosh had been low on ammunition, so the ground they were able to cover was relatively narrow.
The first cragants to step on the blue balls found themselves unable to take another step. Their immense strength was useless against the adhesive balls. The metallic street bulged and warped as the cragants pulled their legs with all their might, but ultimately they held.
Cragants pushed one unlucky trapped cragant to the ground and used him as a platform to walk on. Other cragants tried to walk on top of the single level structures, but their immense weight was too much for the thin, metallic roofs. Their feet bent the metal and pushed right through.
Dralig met the first cragant to cross past Blueball’s traps.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The giant humanoid thrust down with its spear.
Dralig deflected it to the side with their shield. They were physically stronger than the individual cragant by a significant degree.
The four-armed Threnosh charged.
An enormous shield barred their path.
Dralig slammed into it and pushed.
The cragant was stunned by the overwhelming strength displayed by such a smaller being. It was unbelievable. The giant humanoid toppled over.
Dralig stabbed their sword to the hilt into the bottom of the cragant’s boot. They switched the grip to the upper hand and ran it up as high as they could.
The cragant let out a deep, pained cry.
Dralig jumped back to avoid the spear thrust from the next cragant. Their power armor’s artificial musculature provide the explosive strength for a leap to carry them all the way up to the giant humanoids face.
The cragant tried to scramble back, but the street was narrow and the other cragants behind him formed an effective wall.
Dralig used their two lower hands to grab the cragant’s helmet. They stabbed their sword through the gaping eye slits, deep into the giant humanoid’s eye.
The Threnosh dropped to the street and searched for another area to create chaos and confusion. Malendrax had gone for the rightmost line of enemy advance. So, Dralig decided to go to the leftmost line.
Malendrax waited inside a small single level structure, a multi-room rest building. They lacked the overwhelming physical strength that Dralig had, which was only next to Primal’s out of the entire team. They would rely on their quickness and smaller size to do damage with their impact fist gauntlets.
The cragants, minus the ones stuck by Blueballs’ trap, charged across the streets. They reminded Malendrax of a herd of Organism 4738 pounding their hooves across the open plains. The entire structure shook around them.
Malendrax burst out of the building door somewhere in the middle of the stampede. Their power armor resembled a brutish ancestor species of the modern Threnosh. They were short and bulky, muscular. They punched their impact fists into cragant knees.
They hit with the power of an explosion. Even a cragant’s robust build was no match for them. They broke bones and dislocated knee caps. They tore ligaments and cartilage.
The cragants toppled to the ground with surprised shouts of pain around Malendrax like falling trees. They avoided them with quickness and luck. Until they didn’t.
One flailing cragant got lucky and struck Malendrax across the chest, which sent them flying into the side of a structure as if they were launched from a catapult.
Malendrax was a crumpled mess. Their power armor and their biological body inside where crushed and broken. Their power armor’s special ability went to work immediately. Organs mended and bones knit back into their proper form. The armor’s internal working repaired themselves. The metallic surface followed suit. In front of the stunned cragant the armor uncrumpled until it appeared undamaged.
Malendrax stomped up to the prone cragant.
The giant humanoid thrust its spear out, but Malendrax met the tip with a punch that blunted it and shattered the shaft.
Malendrax walked right up to the cragant’s head and proceeded to smash into its steel helmet with impact fist punches that crushed the thick metal and the skull beneath.
The Threnosh left the giant humanoid’s head a crushed mess that leaked red fluid in a wide puddle on the once-pristine, silvery streets.
Dralig kept one eye on the overhead tactical view while he fought among the trees. Their power armor’s outer plating had taken some dents from the cragants’ weapons. Their spire-made shield and sword were made of sterner material and showed now degradation despite heavy use over the last several minutes.
They noted that the cragant’s reinforcements were greater than initially thought.
Blueballs fired from the three level structure along with the Threnosh soldiers that had finally arrived. According to the timer, Adjudicator was approximately one minute away.
Dralig realized that both they and Malendrax were at risk of being overwhelmed by numbers. They were running out of space on the narrow streets. The giant humanoids had a way of restricting the amount of space they had to fight. Even the dead and the dying served this purpose for their fellow fighters.
“Malendrax, fall back to the defensive point,” Dralig said as they did so.
“Acknowledged.”
----------------------------------------
Kynnro kept one eye on the live feeds from all of their teammates.
Caretaker’s group steadily made their way to the enemy’s forward base camp. They traveled in an indirect route that meant to confuse the enemy until it was too late for them to recall the bulk of their forces currently engaging the Threnosh offensive.
Kynnro noted Shira’s viewpoint was pitch black. The black-armored Threnosh was motionless on the overhead tactical map. Kynnro wasn’t overly concerned. Shira was at their assigned position, waiting for the exact moment to strike.
Kynnro regarded the small group of standard Threnosh soldiers sharing the forward defensive outpost to the southwest of the fabrication facility.
Caretaker had their reasons for keeping Kynnro off the operation. They assumed that their team leader also had a reason for assigning them to this particular post. Whatever those reasons were, Caretaker had not seen fit to specify.
Kynnro trusted Caretaker’s judgment. They had yet to steer them wrong.
The squad of soldiers stood with their weapons sighted out into the darkness beyond their fortified position. The enhanced visual modes included in their helmets eliminated the need for light. Their power armors also carried the burden of holding a position for many hours. Their weak and frail biological bodies were cradled in a tight, yet comfortable cocoon.
Kynnro had a thought. They approached the closest soldier.
“You?” Kynnro tapped the soldier on the helmet. “What is your designation?”
“We are not to speak with you.”
“Yes. However, I recall that only applies to noncombat situations.”
“That is correct.”
“This is a combat situation,” Kynnro said flatly.
“Correct.”
“Thus we may speak.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Designation: Rekkis 3671.”
“Rekkis 3671, I have something for you to try.” Kynnro pulled out a small cylindrical container roughly the size of their hand out of an insulated container. There was a hiss of cold air as they opened it. “It is called ice cream.” They had lied to Shira. They had kept one last container for themselves. They simply couldn’t resist.
Kynnro’s face-plate slid up with a thought. They took a spoonful of the cold, creamy, sweetness. They let it melt on their tongue. They savored every bit of flavor before spitting it out over the wall to the street below.
“Try it.” Kynnro thrust the cold container toward Rekkis 3671.
“Explain.” The soldier refused to take it.
“A creation from Designation: Honor’s world. It has a sweet taste. That combined with the creamy texture and cold temperature is nothing like our standard nutrient liquid.”
The words were without meaning to the soldier as it had been to Kynnro before Honor had explained.
“The outworld invader? What purpose does this substance serve?”
“None, but pleasure. Take care not to imbibe it. If you do so, you will have… problems,” Kynnro said.
“I do not understand the word. I decline.”
“This is your one and only opportunity to try something only a small group of Threnosh have before,” Kynnro pressed.
There was silence.
“Very well.” Rekkis 3671 stepped back and rested their recoilless rifle against the wall. They took the cold container from Kynnro. Their translucent face-plate flipped open to reveal a smooth, gray face. Unlike Kynnro’s irregular patchwork of different gray tones.
Kynnro didn’t miss how Rekkis 3671 avoided looking directly at their uncovered face.
“Remember. Do not consume the liquid. Spit it out or suffer the consequences,’ Kynnro said.
“This substance is not liquid.” Rekkis 3671 warily took a small spoonful and placed into their lipless mouth.
Kynnro watched as the soldier’s eyes widened. For some reason that reaction had never failed to bring a slight smile to Kynnro’s mouth. Perhaps they felt a certain sense of stewardship toward the ice cream since they were the first Threnosh willing to try it when Honor had finally pronounced himself satisfied with its creation.
Rekkis 3671 spat the melted liquid out over the side of the wall as Kynnro had done. “I have no words.” They ate a bigger spoonful.
“Do not eat all of it. You will share with the rest of your squad.” Kynnro turned their attention to the rest of the soldiers. “You all have heard my explanation and watched Rekkis 3671’s experience. Raise your hands if you are interested in trying the ice cream.”
Every single soldier gave the affirmative.
Kynnro smiled wider. They lost the last of their ice cream, but they deemed it worthwhile. Caretaker assigned them to this location for a reason. That didn’t bode well for the soldiers with them.
Battle was a foregone conclusion as far as Kynnro was concerned. The soldiers were not likely to survive. At least Kynnro was able to share something new and pleasurable with them. For the first time in their existence the Threnosh soldiers had experienced something beyond the normal blandness of their lives.
The empty ice cream container circulated back to Kynnro. They smiled behind their face-plate. The soldiers appeared to be more animated, excited even.
An alert chimed in Kynnro’s ear holes.
“This is surveillance. Enemy force approaching your position. Flags indicate 2nd Legion. Number estimate 2500.”
There it was.
Kynnro looked at the soldiers for a moment. For once they wished that Caretaker had been mistaken.
“Prepare to defend your position.” Kynnro signaled the pilot of their small aerial transport. “I will attempt to lessen enemy numbers.”
Rekkis 3671 stared at Kynnro.
“We will hold. May your task be successful.”
The entire squad saluted Kynnro. They returned the salute and strode down the steps.
“Caretaker, this is Kynnro. Enemy 2nd Legion, approximately half-strength is beginning their assault.” They spoke into the comms.
“Acknowledged. Hold as best as you can, but do not risk incapacitation. Your presence will be required for our ultimate Task,” Caretaker said. “Maintain silence henceforth. We are approaching the 3rd Legion’s forward base. Critical phase of Task is about to begin.”
Kynnro wanted to argue about the soldiers in the path of the 2nd Legion’s advance, but there was nothing to be done. The Threnosh command staff controlled their fate. If the good of the whole meant their individual sacrifice then that would occur. “Acknowledged.”
Kynnro boarded the small aerial transport, but kept the side door open as they strapped themselves in.
“I have already received the flight plan from Designation: Caretaker,” the pilot said.
“Proceed.”
----------------------------------------
Now, Earth
Three voices yelled for Veronica to stop what she was doing. They didn’t know what she knew. Only she was capable of stopping the enemy and saving all of the people behind her.
The girl was barely five feet tall, yet she stood tall against the fishmen charge.
Veronica held her hands out toward the mass. She surged the electromagnetic power within her to heights that she’d only briefly tested before. It strained against her grasp, but she held it tight despite the pain it cost.
She focused on a stretch of land crossed by train tracks. The fishmen bunched up as they reached the tracks. It was the moment Veronica waited for.
She loosed the electromagnetic pulse in the midst of the greatest concentration of fishmen.
There was a flash of florescent light as the pulse ionized the air. The smell of ozone burst forth from the area. The people watching mistook the effect for a lightning strike.
The majority of the fishmen fell to the ground. Most were still. Their eyes were unblinking and their mouths foamed. Some suffered seizures that saw them breaking their own bones and biting their tongues off.
“Justice… like… lightning,” Veronica panted. Blood flowed from her nose and ears. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. She collapsed to the ground like a string-less marionette.
The fishmen on the very edges of Veronica’s electromagnetic pulse were stunned for a moment. They had gone from overwhelming numerical superiority to nearly being wiped out in an instant by the small, fleshy human child.
They exchanged a look.
It mattered not. The child was clearly one of the key targets the Deep Azure desired. They moved toward Veronica’s still form.
She was too far away. Tessa wasn’t going to be able to reach her stupid little sister in time. The creepy fishmen were going to reach her.
Veronica had taken most of them out, but more came. They were scattered all along the train tracks.
A sudden thought struck Tessa. There was a train engine on the tracks next to her.
Tessa rushed behind the engine and pushed with her magnetic acceleration power. She gave it everything she had. The engine was over a hundred tons according to Aunt Nila. She ignored that fact.
The engine inched forward as Tessa pushed with her power.
“Need more,” Tessa grit her teeth against the strain. Veronica needed her. She gave it one last burst of full power, just like when she was trying to lift her max.
The fishmen heard a loud scream born of desperation and rage.
The tracks rattled for a moment as the train engine moved. That only lasted for a moment.
Tessa’s power sent the hundred ton engine flying. It smeared the dead and dying fishmen along with the uninjured ones across the tracks and ground. It didn’t stop until it hit the railway turntable outside the museum’s roundhouse.
Tessa winced as the engine demolished the turntable, hit the lip of the saucer-shaped depression in the ground, flipped up and fell through the enormous doors into the museum.
Aunt Nila was going to be mad about that.
Tessa looked to her sister and her heart sank. She had missed two fishmen. She could only watch as they neared Veronica while their mother ran toward them.
They were going to take away her baby. That was the only thought in Megan’s mind. Not the fact that she had no weapon, nor did she have any offensive spells.
One fishman had already reached Veronica. It reached down with the jelly-fish like thing in its hand. The next moment it was several feet away. It was on the ground with a bone-like javelin sticking out of its side.
Nila had thrown it from a couple of hundred yards away. She was running at a sprint, but the second fishman would reach Veronica before her.
Megan was the only hope. She tackled the fishman.
The fishman was surprised at the frail human. They rolled around in the dirt and gravel.
Megan had her hands around the fishman’s neck as she tried to attack its gills.
The fishman punched her in the ribs. The pain was indescribable. She felt her ribs snap.
Megan muttered a spell to take the pain away and heal the damage, though that would take time. She dug her fingers deeper into the fishman’s gills with a snarl on her face.
The fishman grew desperate. The human female wasn’t a direct target, not like the strong children and the other strong female that was seconds away.
The fishman made a calculation. They were supposed to prioritize capture of the females. This one was in the way of the Deep Azure’s commands.
Megan felt the fishman’s tooth-like dagger tear into her stomach again and again. The light in her eyes dimmed and threatened to go dark, but she kept it on. Her daughter needed her. Except attacking the fishman’s gills wasn’t working. Her mind thought of her husband. They, well he, had discussed that perhaps there was a way to weaponize her healing spells.
Megan poured all of her remaining mana into a healing spell over the fishman’s gills. At first nothing happened, but then after a few seconds had passed the fishman relinquished its grip on its dagger as its eyes widened in shock.
It opened its mouth and gaped, almost like a fish out of water. It swatted at Megan’s arms drawing deep cuts with its sharp nails, but she held on.
The fishman thrashed and finally succeeded in bucking Megan off. She fell to her back too weak to move.
“Megan!” Nila rushed in and stabbed the dying fishman in the heart. “Jesus!” She rushed to Megan’s side. “Do you have enough mana to heal your stomach?” She placed Megan’s hands over the stab wounds.
Megan was too weak to speak. She didn’t know if she had enough left, but she complied as best as she could. It was hard to tell if her body was listening to what her brain was telling it to do. She felt her mana drain as the healing spell started its work on her ruined stomach as she lost consciousness.
“Mom!” Tessa rushed over. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod… what do I do?” She turned tear-filled eyes to Nila.
Nila pulled the first aid kit from her belt pouch and thrust it into Tessa hands. “You remember the training?”
“Yeah,” Tessa nodded her head fervently.
“Watch your mother’s stomach wounds. It looks like she got a healing spell going, so that’s good. When it runs out and if it’s still bleeding I need you to put pressure on it.”
“Shouldn’t I clean it?”
“Priority is to get the bleeding stopped.” Nila checked Veronica’s pulse then examined her eyes. “Your sister looks like she isn’t in any immediate danger. Try to get your mother conscious. She needs to re-cast the healing spell with every bit of mana that regenerates.”
Tessa nodded as she intently watched the wounds on her mother’s stomach. “Wait! Where are you going?”
Nila moved fast. She was already halfway to the side of the museum toward the tracks. “I need to call your father and tell him about what happened.” She hoped that the cell phone she left in the car worked. It was about fifty-fifty even with all the effort they put into fixing and maintaining the towers in the area.