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Spires
3.41

3.41

Now, Threnosh World

Caretaker awoke with a start.

They felt the pain immediately.

Every nerve in their body burned.

Hazy shapes moved around to their left.

The shapes burst into activity and oblivion claimed Caretaker once again.

Caretaker awoke as if from a deep sleep.

Their entire body was sore and there were maddening itches from what seemed like a hundred different locations.

Their vision was clearer. The hazy shapes moving around them wore medical-type power armor. Delicate in appearance with visible instruments attached.

Caretaker stretched a hand out to the transparent cover of their healing chamber and tapped.

One of the medics brought up the holographic projection of Caretaker’s vitals.

Caretaker waited expectantly for the warm liquid to drain, so that they could return to their duties. There were many unanswered questions that they needed to address.

The medic dismissed the projection and tapped on the healing pod’s control panel.

Caretaker eyes closed against their will. Unconsciousness claimed them in its warm embrace.

An unknown amount of time passed.

Caretaker removed the oxygen mask before the liquid had completely drained. They pulled the monitoring patches from their skin and was already getting up when the healing chamber’s cover opened with a hiss.

Bare feet hit the metallic floor with a wet slap.

The last of the medics was already leaving through the chamber door. Caretaker was alone. They stood up carefully. Their muscles protested. They felt weak. Exposed without their power armor.

The chamber door slid open with a hiss. Kynnro stepped in.

“Your muscle definition has noticeably increased,” Kynnro said.

Caretaker looked down at their body and arms. “You are correct.” Wiry muscles were visible beneath the checkerboard pattern of their gray-toned skin.

“The medics have cleared you to return to regular activities.”

“Why did they not tell me this themselves?”

“They did not wish to view you outside of your trueskin. Let alone the fact that you are a Defective,” Kynnro said with undisguised distaste. “You are also extremely large. I must admit I find it strange as well. To see you without your trueskin.”

“Understandable, where is it?” Caretaker remember the catastrophic damage their power armor had suffered at Zalthyss’ hands.

“Repaired. They attempted to do the same with your spire exoskeleton. They were only able to restore partially functionality.”

“Expected. I will need to purchase repairs directly inside the spire.” Caretaker took several unsteady steps toward the door until Kynnro was forced to lend them a shoulder.

“Do you wish transport?”

“Negative, I will accept your assistance.”

“Very well.”

“You may continue to give me the status report while we walk to my trueskin.”

“The detailed report has been logged and recorded. You will be able to access it through your PID,” Kynnro demurred.

“I will hear it from you first,” Caretaker insisted.

“Where should I start?”

So much that they didn’t know. Caretaker tried to think about what information was most important. Which order was most efficient to receive it? It was difficult without the assistance of their predictive algorithm. Ultimately they went with what loomed with the most urgency in their thoughts. The ones that had been plaguing them during their altered state of mind during their time in the healing chamber.

“Shira?”

“Unknown. Their trueskin no longer appears in the tracking system. No signs of them in surveillance. Volkharion still searches with their remaining drones, in between attempts to repair their destroyed ones.”

“Zalthyss?”

“Unknown. Instruments tracked them ascending into the upper atmosphere before descending just as fast into the ocean to the east. Where it went after is unknown.”

“Our ability to penetrate the deep ocean is limited. The outworld invader could emerge anywhere. What has the senior commander done about this?”

“Unknown. They have not spoken of it. Their command staff has refused to address anyone else expect you.”

“Why not? I have designated a clear chain of command.”

Kynnro shrugged. “They did not deign to provide an answer. It upset Dralig greatly.”

“They are functional?”

“Dralig claims to be at 70%. Their damaged arm could not be repaired. It is causing them difficulties, but they conceal them well.”

“Adjudicator?”

“They were seriously damaged by the fall into the forest, but they were fortunately attacked by monsters. That battle had healed them by the time I was able to pick them up in an aerial transport.”

“Malendrax and Silver Wolf?” Speaking the names bought a strange sensation to Caretaker’s chest. Uncomfortable, almost painful, but distinctly removed from the physical.

“Due to their Defective status,” this time there was clear venom in Kynnro’s voice, “command explicitly forbade recycling their biological matter. I have placed them in stasis. I could not fit their trueskins, so I placed them as close together as possible. I did not know what else to do. It felt wrong to do nothing and leave them. I have questions for Honor on this matter.”

“Primal?”

“Agitated. Their trueskin is ruined beyond our ability to repair. It can only be fixed in the spire. Primal is concerned on two fronts. They want their trueskin fixed immediately, but realizes that it will cost a significant amount of the Universal Points we received for the Task. Additionally, the remains of their trueskin are too heavy and unwieldy to transport into the spire without assistance. The entire team has refused Primal’s demands. They awaited your awakening.”

“So that I will have to deal with Primal.” Caretaker understood. “The Tasks—” They suddenly remembered the spire messages they had dismissed in the middle of battle.

Caretaker concentrated and a chime sounded in their ear holes as a voice and text simultaneously appeared to them.

Task Completed.

Reclaim Cold Plains City.

Success Parameters: Expel the enemy army.

Failure parameters: Retreat or Death.

Reward: 500000 Universal Points.

You gain 50000 Universal Points.

Note: Individual reward based on overall contribution.

Task Completed.

Kill The Hierophant.

Reward: 250000 Universal Points.

You gain 30000 Universal Points.

Note: Individual reward based on overall contribution.

Task Completed.

Survive Zalthyss.

Reward: 5000000

You gain 500000 Universal Points.

Caretaker’s eyes widened. The last Task had given them an unthinkable amount of points. Excitement filled them, but it was just as quickly dashed away when they did the math. They had to check with the others, but it appeared as if surviving the hierophant had been split ten ways, which meant—.

“I was envious that I missed out on such a large reward, but then I remembered what it cost,” Kynnro said.

“Shira is still alive,” Caretaker said abruptly.

“You are certain?”

“Yes. I will have to confirm, but the reward was split ten ways. We numbered twelve at the start. I lost Malendrax and Silver Wolf.”

“Then we will find Shira.”

“Yes,” Caretaker said. “It says that we have reclaimed the city. Explain?”

“The cragants departed the city shortly after and returned to their camp around the spire. I cannot explain it properly. You need to view the recordings. Their commander has been doing something strange every day from the moment the sun rises to when it sets.”

“Tell me.”

“Designation: General Zanya walks alone to the gates and waits. It carries a large piece of white cloth, which analysis has determined to be several of their undercoverings attached together. The first week it wore its armor, but brought no visible weapons. The second week it appeared in its secondary armor layer. Now it appears in its base armor layer.”

“Strange. Has it verbalized its intent.”

“Yes. It calls for a truce and for something called mercenaries.”

“I do not recognize the term’s meaning.”

“Analysis has failed to decipher it as well.”

“Has the senior commander engaged in negotiations?”

“Negative. I suspect they were also waiting for your awakening.”

Caretaker nodded. “We must move quickly. This is an important matter that needs to be addressed.”

A chime sounded in Caretaker’s ear holes.

It seemed that the spires had the same thought.

----------------------------------------

The aerial transport dropped Caretaker off a short distance away from General Zanya. They amended the classification. They remembered that Zalthyss had taken the designation away and gave it to another cragant.

Caretaker was unaware something like that was possible.

The spire exoskeleton whined in protest as Caretaker walked toward the cragant. The left side was significantly weaker than the right side and they had to compensate for it in order to walk with a normal stride through the waist-high grass. Still, it felt right to be back inside their power armor.

They had left all their weapons behind and they had not replaced the Threnosh-made armor plates that had been destroyed by Zalthyss. They weren’t certain how such things went, but they decided to mirror the cragant as close as possible. Besides, until they had the opportunity to go to the spire they had no weapons left. Their sword was gone and their viral pistol was out of ammunition. The standard recoilless rifle wouldn’t do more than annoy the cragant.

Zanya loomed over Caretaker.

The giant humanoid looked different without heavy armor and helmet. It had dark hair, a little lighter than Honor’s, but with much thicker strands according to the readings in Caretaker’s faceplate. A broad face covered in scars stared down impassively. Its held its hands loosely at its sides with palms held open in a pose that suggested deliberation.

Caretaker’s predictive algorithm echoed what their own impressions.

The cragant didn’t present a threat at the moment. And that it had done this purposefully.

It shifted slightly and Caretaker saw powerful muscles move beneath thick skin.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Two contrasting figures stood meters apart.

One was enormous, whose physical power was unmistakable at a glance.

The other was small and slight, whose power obviously lay in the advanced armor it wore.

Caretaker had to crane their head up to look the cragant in the eyes.

“You are not who I expected. I was certain you were dead when I saw your fellow soldiers pull you out of the ground. You were motionless, limp, like the dead. Your armor was broken and blackened. Now your shell appears almost new. You gray ones are full of unexpected strengths.” The cragant’s voice was a deep rumble. Like rocks grinding together deep in the ground.

“What is your designation?”

“I do not understand.”

“You are, were, Designation: General Zanya until Designation: Zalthyss removed the term General and gave it to another.”

The cragant’s mouth split into a smile. It was another thing that reminded Caretaker of Honor. It occurred to Caretaker that it might not have been the right term to use.

The cragant inclined its head in understanding. “My legionnaires have made me general once more.”

“Do your people ascribe to the concept of gender?”

General Zanya frowned. “Yes. I am female. Your species lacks gender?”

She then. Caretaker remembered Honor’s explanations.

“Correct.”

“Interesting. A question for another time. We have more critical matters to discuss,” General Zanya said.

“Yes. Truce and mercenaries.”

“Just so. I desire an immediate cessation of hostilities between my army and your entire world. Is this possible for you to negotiate?”

“Yes.” Caretaker had already gotten Prime Custodian 3’s directive to obtain an end to the fighting. The prime’s word, with Caretaker as proxy, would be adhered to by all Threnosh. “I seek clarification.”

“Proceed with your questions.”

“From your words this truce only extends to your specific force? It will not extend to the other armies fighting in other locations?”

“It is unfortunate, but I do not speak for the rest.”

“The truce is accepted.”

General Zanya raised a brow. “Just like that? You do not need to speak to your leaders?”

“Negative. I have already received the authority to negotiate. My words are binding. All is being recorded to maintain the integrity of the negotiation and the negotiated agreements,” Caretaker said. “On to the second matter. Explanation is required.”

“We need points and to keep our spears sharp and arms strong,” General Zanya said. She elaborated when Caretaker didn’t respond. “We kill monsters. Maybe you gray ones give Quests? Not necessary. Give us monster spawn areas to farm. Trade what we harvest to you for supplies. Food, ore, medicines. Or give us free rein to forage, mine and harvest on our own. We will defend you from roaming monsters, except world level ones. The only thing we will not do is fight other cragants for you.”

There was a lot to parse in General Zanya’s list.

Did she suggest that the Threnosh were able to give out Quests, Tasks, like the spires?

Caretaker weighed asking versus revealing their ignorance. Regardless the breadth of the general's demands was too wide for them to agree to on their own. They uploaded the recording to Prime Custodian 3.

“One moment. I do not have the authority to decide on this matter.”

Caretaker remained silent as they waited.

The general looked curious, but patiently held her mouth closed.

Less than three minutes passed before Prime Custodian 3 replied.

It was one word projected into Caretaker’s faceplate.

Agreed.

“We agree to your terms,” Caretaker said.

General Zanya didn’t hide her surprise. “Just like that?”

“Yes.”

General Zanya bent down and held out a massive hand toward Caretaker. “We clasp arms to seal an arrangement.”

“I am familiar with a similar gesture.”

The general raised her brows, but mastered herself quickly to conceal her curiosity.

Caretaker raised their hand.

The general’s massive hand clasped, almost gingerly, around most of Caretaker’s arm. While the Threnosh could only lay their palm on the cragant’s wrist.

Tactile readings suggested that the general’s skin had a similar density and tensile strength to solid stone. It made sense considering the cragants’ resistance to physical damage.

“Now that we are in agreement. I request a map of monster locations comparable to my army’s strength. I trust you have fought us long enough to have gained our measure?”

“That will be provided. However there is one difficulty. We cannot provide you with our devices.”

“Understandable. I have skilled cartographers. Will you permit us copying? We will start with the immediate area.”

“Acceptable.”

“You can send your representative to our temporary fort around the spire. We will be there for a time. We must rest and recuperate. And we are awaiting an arrival.”

That concerned Caretaker. “Reinforcements?”

“Off a sort,” General Zanya grinned like a hungry predator, “most likely a small detachment. Perhaps a century or three. Along with another hierophant to replace Elgorit and to take me into custody for my transgression.”

“Why?” Caretaker didn’t understand why the general had fought against the hierophant. They didn’t fully understand the cragants’ chain of command, but the hierophant had seemed to occupy a space above the general, below Zalthyss and the Savior it had kept mentioning.

“Why attack Elgorit? Simple. He was a false prophet of a false god. He attacked my legionnaires and killed Trusk. There was no honor in his existence. None in the council that has ruled my people for millennia.”

“You fight your own leaders?”

“We did not choose them. The true story of our past persists to this day despite attempts to stamp them out. Some struggle against the Savior and its heralds from time to time. They never last long. But here, many worlds away from our home, where the hierophants do not rule, we have an opportunity to reclaim the heritage that they tried to destroy.”

Caretaker understood what the general meant, what she planned. “You need the Universal Points to grow stronger. Even more than you already are.”

General Zanya nodded. “Our current might is all brawn, brute force. The hierophants replaced what was said to be the true power of my people with their foul workings. I am uncertain, but we have to try to regain what was lost. To reclaim what was ours before the Savior descended into our world.”

“So, you will kill this hierophant?”

A faraway look suddenly crossed the general’s face.

Caretaker recognized it.

The general blinked back to reality a minute later. She smiled. “Already things change! I can hardly believe it! I have received a Quest! Not the pittance of one doled out by the hierophants!” She thrust her arms up in the air in a violent gesture.

Caretaker took several steps back. Both hands reached for weapons that weren’t there.

“Do not fear, gray one! It appears that I owe you, my army owes you, for the boon that our conversation has created.” General Zanya turned. “I look forward to the fruits of our arrangement.” The general’s steps thudded against the hard-packed ground. The tall grass brushed at her knees.

Caretaker was filled with confusion as they walked back to the aerial transport.

What had just happened?

A communication request interrupted their thoughts as the transport lifted up on the whine of its anti-gravity generators.

It was from Frequency.

“Yes,” Caretaker said into the comms.

“I have done it. I finally unlocked the secret.” Frequency’s words were difficult to understand. They tended to slip in their annunciation when agitated, for good or ill.

“Clarify.”

“I believe I have deciphered the unidentified sound that created difficulties for our team in Orchestral Meridian. I can track it to its source if it has one. Which means—”

“You may be able to track Honor, Brightstrike and PJ15.”

“Yes.”

“Well done, Frequency. The reports from Orchestral Meridian have not been good. This might be what alters the situation to our advantage.” Caretaker thought hard. Their predictive algorithm went into overdrive. “Prepare for departure. I will provide orders within the hour.”

----------------------------------------

Now, Earth

Remy brought up the rear of the formation. They were strung out about a block’s length as they ran on the sidewalk on the left side of the street.

Formation was perhaps the wrong term.

Their force had been thrown into disarray. They had been rattled by the ambush. It didn’t help that they had been forced to leave behind a handful of their dead.

They brought the wounded along, half carried, half dragged.

Detective Ordonez and Jake were among the front of the group. They were relying on the detective’s abilities to find the way out.

Hanna was a dozen feet or so ahead of Remy. She had traded her two-handed greatsword for her round shield and longsword. The former was slung on her back. Remy had no idea how she ran with all that equipment rattling around.

Remy heard footsteps with his better than normal hearing. He couldn’t pinpoint them. Each time he tried to push out a magnetic field in an attempt to zero in on the pursuers was met by increasing levels of pain in his body.

They were running blind.

Detective Ordonez shouted a warning.

Remy got it loud and clear despite being a whole block down the street.

Several cars came roaring down one of the side streets.

Remy frowned. He hadn’t heard them coming. That shouldn’t have been possible.

The cars came to a screeching halt in the intersection and blocked their path.

Cultists jumped out and chaos began.

Gunfire and magic spells erupted from what seemed like every direction.

The cultists took cover behind their cars, while Remy’s allies sought storefront pillars, bus stops and parked cars.

More attacks poured down from above. From buildings on both sides. Remy found the source of those footsteps.

He reached out to grab the cultists guns, but hesitated. He changed his mind. He grabbed a handful of nuts and bolts from one of the pouches on his belt and shot them up at the cultists on the opposite side of the street. No pain. He figured it out. Short duration fields close to his body weren’t a problem.

A blue beam ripped through the air.

Remy saw it out of the corner of his eye. He dived behind a parked car while the beam singed the back of his armored jacket. He scanned the rooftops until he found the source.

A young man, boy, had both hands out in front of him. A blue glow suffused both his eyes and hands.

Remy grabbed the car’s side and lifted. The door panel crumpled in his grip, but he didn’t need to hold it up long. He was plenty strong enough to pick up a car, but for some reason he lacked either of his brothers’ ability to somehow keep the car’s structural integrity coherent enough to wield it like a club, unless he used his magnetic powers. Try to pick up a car by the bumper and you end up with a torn bumper in your hands. Simple physics.

Remy shot the car at the blue beam guy with a quick, powerful magnetic repulsion field.

The blue energy being built up fizzled with a loud pop as the kid ducked down to avoid the one ton projectile zooming through the air.

Remy spared a glance to the front of their formation.

Detective Ordonez, Jake and a handful of fighters had been caught in the open.

They had cover behind one of Jake’s large, tablet-based shield spells. The problem was that they couldn’t fire through it. This meant that they had to take their shots by peeking around the edges.

The shield was translucent. The cultists saw when Remy’s allies were about to lean out. They were effectively pinned down.

The sounds of gunfire dwindled down.

It appeared that both sides were running out of ammunition.

Remy felt hope.

Once the cultists ran out of mana for their spells then all he had to do was shoot another car at the blue beam kid to keep the punk’s head down, while he ran forward and used his physical superiority to clear the cultists out of the way. Then they could take the cultist’s cars and use them to escape.

The bright blue beam scorched through a fighter that had taken cover behind a metal trash can.

Remy cursed himself. He wasn’t paying attention. He spun and shot a handful of metal bits up at the rooftop.

The cultists ducked their heads down as the metal tore into the masonry.

“Remy!” Hanna waved her arms to get his attention. “Push me to the front!”

“I can’t slow you!” Remy yelled back.

“What? Why not?”

“I’d rather not say out loud!”

“Shit! Can you get me up there, but not turn me into paste?”

Remy ran the numbers through his head. Hanna was somewhat more durable than a normal human thanks to her Class and Skills. To get her to the front required a minimum amount of force.

“I think so!” Remy was fairly confident that it was indeed possible to push Hanna to the front without killing her. As for the landing, well, that was up to her.

“Do it!”

“You sure? No guarantees!”

“I can jump down from a two story building, easy! Figure this will be like falling horizontally! Sure it’ll be like a five story building, but I think I can handle it!” Hanna tightened the strap of her greatsword and sheathed her longsword. “Ready when you are!”

Remy reached out. The pain spiked inside his chest. He pushed Hanna up in an arc.

The Swordswoman whooped a mix of fear and excitement as she flew through the air.

The cultists stopped in complete shock at the human missile screaming at them.

Hanna crashed into the side of a car with her shield.

Captain Hamill took advantage of the cultists momentary confusion and ordered his force to charge forward. As they always said the only way to beat an ambush was to fight your way out of it.

Remy saw Hanna pull herself to her feet with a groan. She gave him the thumbs up before she pulled out her longsword and jumped over the car to land amongst the cultists.

He didn’t see what happened next because a most unexpected thing occurred. Actually, two things. Two big and furry things.

One had long fur the color of golden wheat and what looked like a goofy grin on its canine muzzle. That was about its only resemblance to an animal that made sense. It was huge. Eight or nine feet tall judging by how much it towered over Remy’s allies. It was fast. It jumped down from the three-story roof and crossed the street in the blink of an eye.

Remy saw it coming because he wasn’t a normal human anymore. Everything about him was better. Perception, reaction times. The works.

It wasn’t the same for the fighters in the middle of the formation. They were following the captain’s orders when the golden-furred monster tore right through them in a terrifying display of gnashing teeth and slashing claws.

Remy was helpless. He couldn’t risk friendly fire.

“Werewolf?” Remy whispered.

He rushed forward to engage before the giant beast killed more people.

He was completely blindsided.

The next thing he knew he crashed through a storefront window and through the front counter. Something big and furry had hit him like a truck. It actually hurt. That was rare feeling. He had never been one to mix it up in close quarters. He preferred fighting from a distance. Safer, less painful. It seemed like this day was one for firsts. None good.

Remy rolled desperately. He planted his feet on the furry beast’s midsection and kicked out as hard as he could.

The beast must’ve weighed a literal ton.

Remy had barely kicked it back to the front of the store. He jumped up out of the ruined counter and got his eyes on his attacker for the first time.

This one was shorter than the golden-furred one outside. It was maybe seven feet tall, max. Its thick, bulging muscles were visible despite the thick, wiry fur. It’s stockiness gave it the impression of being shorter than it truly was. It bared its sharp teeth at Remy.

Remy stared into its eyes. There was obvious intelligence there. Whether human or other was yet to be determined.

A memory sparked in Remy’s thoughts. Tessa had gone through a phase were she wanted a dog. Of course, Remy had no interest since he would’ve ended up taking care of it. She had wanted a Saint Bernard at first because of a movie, so Remy had shown her another movie, which put her off that choice. Over the next several months Tessa’s choice kept getting smaller and smaller. Her childish reasoning told her that it’d be easier to take care of a smaller one.

Remy remembered one of the last dog breeds that Tessa had tried to convince him with. A terrier. The name was on the tip of his tongue.

“Were… scotty?” Remy whispered.

The beast snarled. It flexed its claws. Muscles strained beneath its wiry coat.

“Wait? You understand me?” Remy ventured. “Look, I don’t necessarily want to kill you. So, be a good d— dude and leave.”

The beast stepped forward.

A deep bark sounded from somewhere outside. It caused the beast to stop.

The source of the bark appeared a second later.

Another beast. This one was bigger than the other two. It had a thick, blocky head and a short coat of white fur over a stout, muscular body. It even had a dark-colored patch around one eye.

The golden-furred one joined them.

“Weredogs,” Remy sighed.

He pointed a finger at the beasts and placed a very strong magnetic field right in front of them. It was the strongest attraction field he could manage through the pain.

At the same time he maintained a tight magnetic field around his body to cancel out the first one and keep his metal weapons from being affected.

As for the rest of the metal in a thirty foot radius?

Well, they came flying.

Every bit of metal in the store rushed at the weredogs. Chairs, tables, light fixtures, decorations. From outside came light poles, fencing, even cars.

Remy turned and ran into the back. He barely twisted out of the way of a fridge. He was forced to switched the field around his body into one of repulsion to keep from getting brained by what seemed like every appliance in the kitchen.

He burst through the back door and turned up the alley. He didn’t want to be left behind.