Now, Threnosh World
“Drone operators report drones in position. Vanguard Zeljanz 31 and Vanguard Blazer Ecoria 70 report readiness. Subcommander Solemn Coast 963 reports experimental weapon squad has sighted corrupted force approaching at 2000 meters. Winding Myriad in position for support. Maul requests permission to begin bombardment,” Communicator Dreylox 7193 said flatly.
“Granted,” Salamander said.
“Acknowledged.” The communicator tapped on the holographic projection before continuing. “T-Men squad in position.”
Salamander exchanged a glance with Frequency.
The latter’s sound, Salamander didn’t fully comprehend, was supposed to disrupt the other sound that was the cause of their electronic problems in Orchestral Meridian. From interfering with their scans and communications, to their difficulty in locating Honor, to the unexplainable sights and sounds in their audio and visual systems. Phantoms that were there and then not in the next instant.
Frequency was certain, which was good enough for Salamander.
Trust in your teammates when it came to their specialties.
“My sound has already disrupted the interference in our controlled sector,” Frequency said. “Taking control of this communications facility will allow us to propagate it over a wider area into the adjacent contested sectors.”
“Telatrine requests task commencement,” Communicator Dreylox 7193 said.
“Begin,” Salamander said. They desired to be out in the field. They craved combat. Additionally, the Task to reclaim the facility would’ve yielded enough Universal Points for the next upgrade to their power armor. Since Caretaker hadn’t been freed from their duties at Cold Plains City, Salamander was forced to hold overall command. They had hoped that Frequency’s arrival would change that as their senior, but alas, it hadn’t.
All Salamander could do was watch the projected views of their teammates and their soldiers.
The Vanguards zoomed low, just meters off the street. Their power armors held built in anti-gravity units and thrusters in the soles of their boots and palms that doubled as blunt force ranged weaponry strong enough to dent steel at a hundred meters. Powerful for Threnosh, but underpowered against stronger monsters, like the corrupted that howled as they blocked all pathways into the communications facility.
At Honor’s prior command more weapons had been integrated into the Vanguards’ power armor.
Micro missiles streaked out from the Vanguards’ backpacks and exploded in the mass of corrupted. Bodies and body parts went flying.
They soared up just out of the corrupted’s reach and released small grenades from the compartments in their torsos as they split up. One went down the eastern street, while the other went west.
“Vanguards have drawn corrupted presence away from the entrance,” Communicator Dreylox 7193 said.
Just as planned.
Salamander watched intently as Telatrine and their squad moved toward the facility. They would have to secure it from any potential corrupted on the inside. Scouting had been ineffective due to the unknown sound interfering with drone control.
“Drone status?” Frequency said.
“Signal strength along expected parameters. No interference,” Communicator Dreylox 7193 said. They were relaying everything from the different subgroups nearly instantaneously.
Frequency scrutinized the readouts in their faceplate. They could see, hear the disruptive sound trying to gain purchase, but their counter sound was indeed blocking it.
“Can we send in the combat drones to hold the perimeter?” Salamander looked at Frequency expectantly. They had begun having difficulty with their drones functioning beyond sectors under their control shortly after Honor’s disappearance. It had greatly slowed their progress.
“Yes,” Frequency said.
“Do it,” Salamander said.
“Acknowledged.” The communicator relayed the order to the drone operators.
Subcommander Solemn Coast 963 was patched into the comms. They had reason to regret volunteering to command the experimental weapons squad in their first deployment outside of the spawn zones around their base. The charging, howling mass of corrupted Threnosh was a lot worse than the usual invasive organisms.
The projection on their faceplate flashed an alert.
The corrupted were almost at the 1000 meter mark.
Rodinian had set temporary restraint traps all along the wide street.
“Mortars on my mark,” Subcommander Solemn Coast 963 said. They set their faceplate to zoom in so that they could see the instant the traps were sprung. Timing was of the essence. The corrupted would only be slowed not stopped entirely as the greater mass would simply trample over the front ranks to continue their charge.
The traps flashed and the front rank of corrupted suddenly seized up.
“Fire.”
The experimental weapons squad mortars launched rounds that arced high in the air and landed in the corrupted mass with fiery explosions.
More took their place and kept coming.
Maul’s initial artillery bombardment had already done significant damage, yet the numbers remained high. The subcommander found it hard to comprehend.
Maul continued to fire their weapons from a higher elevation structure five hundred meters to the subcommander’s southwest.
The corrupted neared the five hundred meter mark.
“Bolters.”
The experimental weapons squad members packed up the mortars and switched to their new weapons. They resembled the standard recoilless rifle in general shape. They were bulkier and heavier on account of the larger ammunition. Projectiles that exploded into shrapnel after penetrating a target or reaching a designated distance. In this case five hundred meters.
“Fire.”
The twelve Threnosh’s weapons barked repeatedly.
Bolter rounds struck corrupted then exploded or did so in their midst. Bloody chunks flew apart.
“Reload magazines.”
That was the downside to the powerful new weapons. They had nowhere near the amount of ammunition as the recoilless rifle or minigun, especially the latter.
The corrupted still kept coming through two more reloads.
Two hundred meters.
“Sonic weapon.”
The squad switched again. This time they pulled out a speaker-like device from the attachment at their left hip. They held it in their closed fist and pointed it straight at the corrupted.
“Full coverage.”
The weapon resembled Frequency’s emitters, on which it was based.
“Engage.”
The squad pressed the buttons and the emitters let loose a high-pitched whine that distorted the air in a wide cone.
The corrupted screamed and stumbled as the sonic vibrations damaged their equilibrium and internal organs.
The weapon would’ve stopped the corrupted charge had they enough energy.
Unfortunately, the cable attached power pack only had enough energy for a few seconds of operation. In any case the weapons were fragile and prone to breaking if used for more than that amount of time.
A large number of corrupted were felled, but there were more behind them.
One hundred meters.
“Fall back.”
The squad engaged their anti-gravity harness and thruster pack to jump back several hundred meters to land on top of a three-level structure.
“We are clear.”
“Acknowledged,” Maul said into the comms.
Subcommander Solemn Coast 963 could only watch in awe as the position they had been occupying, which was now filled with a tightly-packed mass of corrupted, was obliterated by a barrage from Maul’s weaponry.
The experimental weapons had performed well above expected parameters, yet their destructive capability was still dwarfed by one individual.
“Experimental Weapon Squad and Maul have turned back corrupted reinforcements,” Communicator Dreylox 7193 said.
“Keep scanning for further reinforcements,” Salamander said.
“Acknowledged.”
“Telatrine, reporting. Interior of facility is clear of corrupted. Proceeding to control chamber. Adahn estimates control within nine minutes.”
Telatrine bypassed the communicator as they were wont to do.
“Acknowledged, remain cautious,” Salamander said. The Inheritors had used a similar tactic before to spring an ambush or attack a different area. “Maintain vigilance over all controlled sectors.” They turned to Frequency. “How soon will you be able to track the source of the corruptive sound?”
“Uncertain. Orchestral Meridian covers a large area, vertically and horizontally. The more communication facilities and relay stations under our control along with more drones deployed solely to the task will increase our probability of success,” Frequency said. “However, my readings indicate that I am disrupting the sound. If it increases intensity in an effort to push back then that may make it easier to triangulate.”
Salamander nodded.
Find the source of the sound and they'd find Honor.
----------------------------------------
Strength and power are inextricably intertwined. You cannot have one without the other. This is what you are here to learn.
Was it?
Cal was confused. He sat in a massive lecture hall at his university. Except he had graduated over a decade ago.
Wait.
Wasn’t it almost two decades?
Power is responsibility. To be powerful is to guide lesser beings on the right path. For they do not know. How can they? Their weakness blinds them.
The professor’s voice was like music.
Cal’s eyes were drawn to her.
Beautiful, statuesque.
Until a sound like a broken string screeched out.
The professor seemed to fuzz around the edges. Her beautiful form was replaced for a split-second.
Cal stared at an eldritch abomination. An impossibly tall woman with her face hidden behind a hood of flesh. A dozen hands on the edge of a cloak, also made of what appeared to be her own skin.
A lyrical melody emanated from the woman’s hood.
Cal blinked.
His beloved professor was back with a wry smile on her face.
To be weak is to be low. The low, by their nature, exist to serve. In service there is a path to rise in strength. It is your responsibility to raise the lesser up.
The professor stared at Cal with unblinking eyes.
To be powerful is to be above. Higher by right and deed. Those below exist at your sufferance. In time they may challenge your power. When that time comes the strongest will—
The same discordant sound rang out like nails on an old chalk board.
Cal blinked.
The confusion cleared for a moment.
He raised his hand.
The professor was suddenly an empty void. She was simply gone. Like she had been photoshopped out of a picture.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Cal blinked.
Yes, Mr. Cruces.
She was back.
Cal was confused, but something small hidden deep in his mind remembered.
“You’re wrong.”
The other students turned their faces toward him in unison.
“What you’re saying sounds like how animals live. Survival of the fittest, strong eat the weak. That doesn’t work for thinking beings. Sapience separates us from the beasts. Our ability to think, reason, is our greatest strength. Ironic, really, that you’d argue against our evolutionary advantage. It’s been proven repeatedly. Our world, our lives has been and will always be worse because of people espousing your teachings.”
And yet here you are. You’re strong, but not strong enough… as your current position attests. Like I said, Mr. Cruces, become strong enough to take power and you can have control.
Cal blinked.
He noticed his classmates for the first time. They were all staring at him as one body.
None of them had features. Their faces were blank. No eyes, nose and mouth. Just a blank expanse of flesh.
Strength and power are inextricably intertwined. You cannot have one without the other. This is what you are here to learn.
The other students reached out with grasping hands.
Cal shrank back and tried to ward them off, but they were too strong.
Power is responsibility. To be powerful is to guide lesser beings on the right path. For they do not know. How can they? Their weakness blinds them.
He shouted. Tried to deny the looming darkness about to smother him.
To be weak is to be low. The low, by their nature, exist to serve. In service there is a path to rise in strength. It is your responsibility to raise the lesser up.
He failed again.
To be powerful is to be above. Higher by right and deed. Those below exist at your sufferance. In time they may challenge your power. When that time comes the strongest will claim what is theirs.
Yet, there was a small discordant sound in the distance that pierced a small hole in the thick shroud.
A tiny light illuminated the darkness.
A part of Cal could finally see.
He shaped a small brick in his mind and planted it in front of him.
The effort left him drained. So, he rested until he was ready to form another.
You will learn or be consumed.
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Now, Earth
Ten years after the spires appeared was marked by a thunderous chime in every human’s ears.
Congratulations!
You have survived!
The introductory period is complete.
Full Classes are now unlocked.
Upworld travel is now unlocked.
Entities with secondary special dispensation are no longer blocked from travel to your world.
Additional features are unlocked.
Visit the Spire to purchase further information.
A five year intermediate period begins. After which all restrictions will be lifted.
Gain strength.
Take territory.
Your world draws closer to full participation.
Be prepared.
“Well… crap,” Nila said.
“What does this mean?” Megan hugged Veronica tight.
The teenager rolled her eyes, but consented. Her mother need comforting.
“Have to go to the spire,” Keisha shrugged.
“No way! We’re in enemy territory. We can’t just walk up to one. What if they have guards?” Bastien said.
They had to go, well, at least some of them. Information was like very important. Cal had constantly and annoyingly mansplained it to Nila in the early days of the spires apocalypse. As if playing strategy and tactical games on his computer made him an expert. She wondered if Cal got the same message on the Threnosh world.
“Wait…” Nila muttered. If restrictions had been lifted then did that mean she could finally respond to Cal’s spire messages?
The thought of Cal brought a pang of grief. It had been so long. She missed him. Her excitement was tempered by worry. Cal’s last message had been nearly a year and a half ago.
What that might’ve meant brought a spike of dread in Nila’s heart.
Stronger than the general sense that had been weighing on her ever since they had entered San Francisco.
“Yeah?” Veronica tapped Nila on the arm.
Nila blinked and noticed that everyone was staring at her expectantly.
Megan and Veronica.
Team F.C.W.R and Mads.
Keisha, Alexa and Max.
“Uh, yeah… right. We need information on these changes. Ideally we all go, but that’s not a good idea. We know that the fish cult specifically wants myself and Veronica. So, that probably means that our descriptions, maybe even drawings are out there on wanted posters or something like that. With that in mind, Megan’s probably also a target. Which leaves you guys.”
“We’ve been fighting them too,” Alexa said.
“Except we’ve been wearing helmets. They probably don’t know exactly what we look like,” Keisha said.
“As long as we don’t use our more distinctive spells and abilities, which we wouldn’t anyway,” Max chuckled, “unless we wanted to get caught, which is just dumb.”
“Wait, what about our gear. Not loving the idea of walking around in creepy cult land unarmed and unarmored,” Johnny said.
“You ain’t really got no choice,” Keisha crossed her arms and glowered at the young man.
“Fu—! Ow!”
Gene had elbowed Johnny in the ribs. “I think it’s risky, but you’re right. We need more information,” he said.
“Kiss ass,” Johnny muttered. “Ow! Mother Fu— C’mon, man, why?”
“This is serious,” Olo said flatly.
“Yes, it is,” Keisha narrowed her eyes at Johnny.
Johnny threw up his hands, but kept his mouth shut and subtly shifted until he was partially hidden behind Olo’s large frame.
“Do we all go out together?” Mads said to get to the point.
“Naw, we’ll split up in twos and threes,” Keisha said. “Me, Johnny and Mads, Alexa with Olo and Bastien, Max and Gene. Sound good?”
Nila nodded.
“We’ll start heading out around lunch to blend in with the crowds. I’m guessing there’ll probably be a bunch of people heading to the spire to see what’s up,” Keisha said.
“Stagger when you leave and take different routes,” Nila said.
They were holed up in a warehouse a good half mile from the nearest block of occupied homes. The path into the city had been surprisingly clear. The checkpoint fort before the Bay Bridge had been a ruined mess. It had been wide open with no one in sight. The government forces and Remy had gotten through okay, judging by the crumpled metal gates.
It was when they were halfway across the bridge that Alexa had suddenly sensed something disturbing. It was as if a presence had taken note of them and had an eye or eyes on them. The rest of them had only felt a sense of dread that manifested as an uncomfortable feeling in their stomachs.
To be fair Nila was fifty-fifty that it was triggered by Alexa’s pronouncement rather than something legitimate. They were nervous enough as it was. Seeing as how they were driving into enemy territory with barely a plan.
The warehouse was an ideal location because they could see the bay and Alcatraz Island in the distance for those with enhanced vision.
Their goal.
Where the fishmen and the cult kept their captives. Where Tessa was likely imprisoned.
If the cultist’s words under Demi’s interrogation could be believed.
Their main problem was getting to the island and back. Boats were out of the question as the only ones they’d observed crossing the bay were clearly on cultist business. There was a complete lack of any other types of boating. No fishing and no recreation. It made sense considering the fishmen were somewhere down under the water’s surface.
Their only real option was going to be impossible to get into without being detected.
Otherwise, Remy flying over on a sheet of metal was the best option and they had discovered nothing about his or the others’ whereabouts.
Nila, Megan and Veronica were in the middle of what felt like the hundredth brainstorming session when a tall, young woman of Japanese descent suddenly appeared at the stairs to the loft they were using as a planning area.
“I come in peace,” the young woman raised her hands.
A likely story. Nila wasn’t going to take the chance. She burst into action.
And was surprised as the young woman matched her and blocked the punch with a sweep of her arm.
The impact shook Nila.
She uncorked a short hook to the young woman’s body like Cal had taught her.
The young woman grunted with the impact, but snapped out with a hook of her own to the side of Nila’s head.
Nila’s cage rattled.
Before she knew what was happening, she was weightless, upside down for an instant before slamming down to the wooden floorboards.
The young woman had a hand around Nila’s throat. Just tight enough to be uncomfortable. Her other hand was pointed like a spear at Nila’s eyes.
The young woman’s fingernails were thicker and longer than humanly possible. Pointed like blades.
The rest of the young woman was just as strange. Dark-colored fur had sprouted to frame her face and all along the back of her tank top-bared arms. She looked bigger. Her muscles bulged noticeably compared to what she had looked like at first. Her mouth was bared in a snarl to reveal canine teeth, long and sharp.
“Bitch, what part of I come in peace didn’t you understand,” the young woman growled.
A hand darted forward to grab the top of the young woman’s head.
“Bitch, move and I give you a tumor that’ll push the rest of your brains out in seconds,” Megan said.
“Yeah!” Veronica cheered, while pointing a finger gun at the young woman.
“This is what I get for trying to help,” the young woman muttered. “Fine… what the fuck was that stupid thing I was supposed to say.”
Nila tensed. She needed to grab the young woman’s free hand as soon as Megan started her magic lest the sharp claw-like nails blind her. She needed to do the same to the hand around her throat.
“Blades in the dark are ever sharp,” the young woman said. Her eyes were on Nila.
Nila blinked.
“They shine bright in the light,” Nila said.
This was unexpected.
It was the ridiculous code that Remy and Hanna had concocted based on the idea that Bennett might’ve found allies in the city assuming he hadn’t been killed or captured.
Was this an ally?
She did have the right words.
“You’ve talked to Remy?” Megan immediately released her grip.
Nila sucked in a breath.
Megan was too trusting.
“You won’t take another shot at me? Not that I can’t handle it,” the young woman said lightly, “but it’s annoying and I’m on a short clock.”
“Yeah, but if you’re not on the level then you’re going to have a problem,” Nila frowned.
The young woman eased up off Nila. She slowly reverted back to fully human with what looked like some effort.
“No, not Remy. Hanna. Though we know where they’re keeping him.” She sniffed in Megan’s, then Veronica’s direction. “You must be his wife and kid.”
“Explanation,” Nila said as she shot to her feet.
“Relax, shorty, I told you I’m not here to fight. If I was you’d never hear me coming,” the young woman smirked.
Nila didn’t like her and it wasn’t because the woman had gotten the better of her.
“Name’s Rino and I’ll take you to Hanna. We should get moving though. If I tracked you down then my old bros won’t be that far behind. So, chop-chop, let’s get in that sweet suburban of yours and out of here.”
“We’re waiting on… others,” Nila said hesitantly.
“Shit,” Rino sniffed, “I can smell them. Got their scent. They supposed to be back soon?”
“Yes,” Megan said.
“We can pick them up on the way.” Rino sighed. “Time’s wasting. You might have two more like me and a bunch of cultists crashing through within the hour. Grab your shit and let’s go.”
Nila exchanged a glance with Megan, who looked confused, hopeful and wary all at the same time. “Okay,” she said.
“Finally.” Rino frowned at Veronica, who was still pointing a finger gun at her face. “You got laser fingers or something?”
“Make one wrong move and you’ll find out,” Veronica sneered.
“Veronica,” Megan glowered, “that’s not nice.”
“Sorry, mom,” Veronica mumbled, but she didn’t holster her finger gun. If this Rino wasn’t on the level than her brain was so going to get scrambled.
----------------------------------------
Remy listened as he had done constantly for the past few days.
The crash of ocean waves on a rocky shoreline was impossible to miss. The same thing as always. Only broken up by the conversations as guards brought him food and water that he had refused to touch. Along with the once a day visit at random hours by the same old woman in the definitely magical robes.
He was almost certain that his prison room had been converted in a lighthouse. For one thing the room was circular and he could feel the wind on the tower and the metal in the structure creaking with every powerful gust.
The smell was a good hint too. The sweet brine of the ocean unmarred by man’s pollution and trash. He supposed that was one positive thing about the apocalypse.
Remy chided himself for the morbid thought. He had made an effort to stay positive. It seemed to help keep the ever present dread and feeling of growing hopelessness from, well, growing.
The truth was he wasn’t in a rush to escape even if he was sure that they couldn’t stop him from just physically walking out. The question was what would he do after? The only lighthouse he was familiar with in the area was on Alcatraz. Swimming wasn’t a good idea and until he figured out what was causing him pain and interfering with his ability to utilize his full power then he couldn’t count on just flying back to the mainland.
Remy stared at the food and water near the door, where he had left it untouched. It looked like pork, but he’d read and seen enough movies with cults and eldritch entities to decide against the risk. There was a non zero percent chance that the meat was people or some kind of abomination’s that’d brainwash him or worse. As for the water, same deal. He wasn’t about to let the creepy bastards trick him into changing his fundamental nature.
He was surprised to find that it wasn’t a problem. It’d been awhile since his last meal and rink and he still wasn’t hungry or thirsty. A useful ability if a bit concerning. He did wonder at what was sustaining him.
The old woman’s attempts to coerce Remy to joining them hinged on the threats to Tessa’s safety. That and her weird robes that seemed to move like the ocean and threatened to pull him into the abyss. A problem easily solved by closing his eyes.
The thought brought a smile to Remy’s lips. The old woman hadn’t liked that at all.
Perhaps her frustration had led to her carelessness or maybe they simply had no idea how acute his senses were. If they were then the cultists would’ve been more careful with what they said to each other.
This was the main reason why Remy was content to stay for now.
For he had learned through scattered pieces of conversation among the guards and the old woman several crucial pieces of information.
One was that there was a network of tunnels bored beneath the ocean floor that connected Alcatraz to San Francisco, while more were being drilled, eaten, it wasn’t clear, to connect to other areas all around the bay.
A way out.
The second and more important piece was that the fishmen had attacked his home and while they did take Tessa, Megan and Veronica were safe. This did most of the work to lift the weight of Remy’s shoulders. So long as his family was safe then there was nothing the cult could do to compel him to go along with whatever foul purpose they had in mind.
Which led to the last piece of information. They had captured Tessa, but they couldn’t hold her. She had fought her way free from the fishmen, killing them all and was still loose in their tunnels.
And so Remy would wait.
He’d wait until he knew with reasonable certainty where his daughter was. Then he’d kill every cultist and fishmen in his way to her.
The only thing that mattered was keeping his family together, safe.