Now, Earth
Fin woke with a start.
Sweat covered his thin body.
His chest burned with unnatural heat.
He tugged his shirt down frantically to see a faint light glowing through his skin, making ribs and his heart faintly visible with each beat.
They are coming.
Memories flooded back as if a dam had been breached.
Fin didn’t bother changing out of his sweats or even putting shoes on.
He tore out of his small apartment and sprinted across the street to the rangers’ in the community college.
“They’re coming!” Fin waved his arms as he approached the rangers posted at the entrance.
“The fuck!” the ranger pointed his shotgun down at Fin’s feet.
“It’s the ‘Ghost Sorcerer’ kid,” the second ranger frowned. “They said he might be a little off,” she whispered, pulling the lever of her black, tactical repeating crossbow back to draw the string. The locking mechanism audibly clicked into place as a bolt dropped down into place from the thin magazine.
The shotgun wielding ranger sighed. “This we got to deal with instead of getting points and levels.”
“Half our squad is injured, Swampbutt.”
“Still bullshit, just like my handle… the fuck this skinny kid gets a cool one and I get ‘Swampbutt’? At least you got something decent, ‘Dastardly’, now that ain’t bad at all.” He relaxed and lowered his shotgun, holding up a hand at the approaching Fin.
“Your own fault for explosively shitting yourself,” Dastardly snorted.
“I’d like to see you keep your cheeks clenched when you’ve got a close up view of the chunks of meat between a gremlin alpha’s teeth,” Swampbutt blocked Fin’s way, “hold up Ghosty. What’s the rush?”
“They’re coming,” Fin gasped.
“Do you hear any alarms, Dastardly?”
“Nope, nothing but crickets out there, Swampbutt.”
Closer by the second.
“Magic… I can feel the magic. I remember… the rituals… the pain.”
The two rangers exchanged a look.
“Not it!” They said in near unison.
“Fuck!” Swampbutt spat.
“Ha, too slow as always.”
“C’mon, kid you can tell the Sgt. Muttley all about your bad dreams.”
Fin followed the ranger into the former college administration building turned ranger command center. The ranger in front of him walked at a brisk pace, but he itched to go faster. Somehow, he knew that they were wasting valuable seconds.
Two rangers sat in front of large set of double doors, doing something strange.
“Tase me, bro,” a large ranger said.
The second ranger obliged and stuck the bigger man with a taser stick.
Fin counted five seconds before they reached the two rangers.
The big ranger clenched his teeth, but barely trembled.
“You’re a sick fuck, Brighteyes.”
“Hey, Swampy,” the reply came through clenched teeth, “just training my passive.”
“And that’s ten seconds,” the second ranger grunted.”
Brighteyes sighed in relief as the tasing stopped.
“Getting off on that, Hammers?”
“It’s funny when he pisses himself a little,” the ranger replaced the drained taser with a fresh one from the small box next to the door. “What’s going on with the kid?”
“Need to see the sarge… magic shit.”
The three rangers nodded with dubious looks at Fin.
“Not much going on in there,” Brighteyes said. “Comms are being wonky. Nothing yet from the rest of our guys.”
They entered a large conference room filled with support staff doing nothing except sitting at radio and phone stations.
“Sarge, this kid… magic shit,” Swampbutt shrugged.
The sergeant was short, squat and muscular. His clean-shaved head was blocky, like a bulldog. His expression was just as fearsome.
Droopy eyes regard Fin impassively.
Fin startled when Swampbutt prodded him with a finger in the ribs.
“This is where you start talking,” Swampbutt whispered into his ear.
“Sgt. Muttley… er… I… think something bad’s going to happen… has happened already—”
Calm, control.
Fin breathed.
Memories became clear as if he was being fed the images.
“I detected a surge of magic coming from that direction,” Fin pointed.
Sgt. Muttley’s eyes narrowed. “East.” He walked to the table in the center of the room. “Can you pinpoint it?”
Fin’s eyes immediately fixated on the expanse of green bordering the eastern edge of their territory.
He didn’t know why, but he knew.
“In there… and,” Fin’s finger traced westward across the map in a nearly straight line from the wilderness, “here a few minutes later.”
The sergeant eyed the map. “Victory party.”
“Ranger Captain Pena got robbed,” Swampbutt spat.
“Come with me.”
The sergeant led Fin to another conference room a short ways down the hall. The cracking sound of the taser trailed them.
“I need a scry on the wildlife park and over Lindsay’s victory party.” Sgt. Muttley barked out the coordinates.
“On it, sergeant.”
The mages on duty immediately began casting their spells.
Fin wavered between fear and eagerness. He had been denied the chance for revenge against those that inflicted years of suffering and degradation on him.
An opportunity had presented itself.
However, newly recovered memories made him tremble, he knew the truth behind those that ruled his old prison.
The mages screamed out.
“Holy shit! That can’t be good.”
Sgt. Muttley growled for Swampbutt to shut up.
They rushed over to the stricken mages.
The sergeant slapped one of the mages until the man came to. “What happened?”
“Some kind of feedback,” the mage spat out a bloody glob.”
The second mage groaned. “Same kind of block over Beverly Hills.”
The door burst open.
Dastardly barged in. “Sarge, flares all along our northern borders, the east and over the Cruces’ neighborhood!”
“Scry over the Cruces’, now!” Sgt. Muttley barked at the third mage. “The rest of you scry our borders.”
Seconds ticked interminably slow.
The mage scrying over the Cruces’ screamed and fell back. Blood leaked from every orifice in her head.
Swampbutt barely caught her in time, preventing her from smashing her head on the floor.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
“Get the medics!”
“Right away, sir.” Swampbutt sprinted out the door.
“Dastardly, get to the comms. Trigger the emergency alert. All people are to immediately head to the nearest shelter. Tell them we need to contact Rayna. Then gather the squad. We’re going to the Cruces’.”
“Ghost Sorcerer.”
Fin straightened.
“Go get shoes and some clothes from supply,” Sgt. Muttley said.
----------------------------------------
The flares went up all along the bottom of the foothills leading to the wilderness park region east of their territory.
Cal’s dad counted them.
Nearly every single ranger watchtower and post.
Refurbished air raid sirens howled in the distance.
The people would have minutes to get to the designated emergency shelters in each neighborhood tract and apartment complex.
These houses and apartments had been claimed in either his, his wife’s and Rayna’s names. This meant that it’d take a comparably powerful monster, mutant animal or person to violate the structures’ sanctity. The walls themselves had attained a sort of enhanced durability to attack.
It had taken gremlin alphas weeks to batter down the doors. Plenty of time for the Cruces to come to the rescue of the people taking shelter.
A deep rumble vibrated through his chest.
Growling.
He spun and covered his face just in time to shove his arm into the mutant mountain lion’s fang-filled mouth.
The beast was close to a ton of dense bone and muscle, stretching tawny fur to the edge of tearing.
Claws tore through his shirt, scratching thin lines of blood across his chest and upper arms.
He stumbled back with the force of the beast’s impact, but kept his feet.
The beast was bigger, stronger than the largest prehistoric mega fauna, but his strength dwarfed it.
He punched it in the throat. Then grabbed it, crushing its trachea.
The beast’s jaws opened as it gasped futilely for air.
He slammed it to the ground, cracking asphalt.
The beast choked.
He stomped on its head.
Howls filled the air.
He looked up into the hills.
Eyes glinted in the moonlight.
So many.
This wasn’t like the other times.
The monsters and mutant animals in the wilderness park attacked singularly or in small groups.
Gunfire and spells echoed.
The rangers couldn’t handle this.
He charged the mutant coyotes at over seventy miles an hour.
People would die for every second he was occupied.
----------------------------------------
Cambion’s body flared with power. He was drawing deeply on what his master had left in the sanctum.
The mansion had been breached. Its defenders were dead or in retreat.
They had taken a toll on the attacking rangers even if the exchange had been in the latter’s favor.
So, not entirely worthless.
He could feel them, all of them fighting in and around the five mansions.
Both sides raged in battle.
He could sense them, almost smell them like a scent on the wind.
Tantalizing power.
If only he could take it, shape it, use it.
Rangers charged up the stairs, blasting away.
This was the third such squad.
The sight of the bodies of the previous two failed squads filled them with anger, fear and sadness in a swirling mix that sent their thoughts into turmoil.
Just as Cambion intended.
His eyes flared with reddish purple light as his magic shield blocked everything.
Power flowed from the sanctum into his frail human body.
Stretched to the breaking point, Cambion hissed as he dropped his shield.
“Agony Missile!”
Streaks of ugly, black-cored orbs flew from Cambion’s hands.
Rangers dropped to the floor as they thrashed on the carpeted floor.
Cambion swelled with power as he fed on the rangers’ pain in the brief moment before their hearts gave out.
“Enhance Body,” Cambion hissed.
A big ranger leapt up from the first floor. He briefly landed on the railing before throwing himself at Cambion with a two-handed wood-splitting axe raised over his head.
“Power Strike!”
Cambion caught the axe head.
They struggled for a moment.
“Touch of Agony!” Cambion jabbed a finger into the ranger’s helmet eye slit.
The effect was instantaneous.
The ranger screamed, losing his hold on his axe.
Cambion snarled, ugly and filled with rage as he drew a wicked-looking knife and slashed the ranger’s throat.
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More rangers charged up the stairs.
Cambion’s mage shield flared to life to meet the withering fire.
A fireball exploded, setting the landing on fire.
Cracks began to form on Cambion’s dark shield.
It held for a moment as an unnatural silence descended on the fight.
Cambion’s eyes widened.
His shield shattered into little pieces like a pane of glass.
“Fireball! Motherfucker!”
The blast took Cambion full force, sending him flying into his master’s sanctum.
The rangers pursued him, pressing the momentary advantage.
Cambion swept an arm out.
Pain struck the lead rank of rangers with palpable force.
Gunfire and spells struck Cambion.
His spell kept him alive, allowing him to respond in kind with spells of pure pain.
The coppery scent of blood mingled with the foul stench of human bodily waste, while cordite-tinged smoke swirled with the flames.
“Quick Thrust!”
A small ranger darted from behind a big-bodied ranger with humanly impossible quickness.
Cambion grunted.
The woman’s thin-bladed machete was buried in his stomach.
Unfair.
People were always hurting him.
Just because they were stronger.
Not anymore.
Rage filled him with understanding.
The path his master had shown him was suddenly illuminated.
Hundreds of men and women were hurting and killing each other.
They urged him along, pushed him forward.
Cambion grabbed the woman’s exposed throat. He pulled the machete out of his stomach. The pain renewed him.
He pulled the woman close.
Her eyes were wide in fear and disbelief, then pain as he tightened his hand.
“Give me your anger,” Cambion hissed, “give me your wrath!”
A chime sounded in his ear.
“Achieved requirements for Class change: Pain Mage to Wrath Mage.”
Time stood still for Cambion.
“Do you wish to upgrade your Class? If you proceed you will be a Wrath Mage, Level 21. You may remain in your current Class. In which case you will be a Pain Mage, Level 26.”
A loss of four levels, but in a newer, potentially more powerful class. Against a single level gained in his current class.
He wished that there was more information was available, but the spires were as stingy as always.
In the end it was an easy choice.
The rage in him wouldn’t permit anything else.
“I will become a Wrath Mage,” Cambion growled.
“Decision accepted. Here is a brief overview of your new class abilities.”
A short list of spells and Skills list hit Cambion, both as a voice in his ears and as text in his eyes in the instant before he snapped back to real time.
It appeared that the new abilities were simply added to his old basic ones.
Cambion grinned like a feral monster at the rangers surrounding him.
New abilities.
Standing inside his master’s sanctum.
Wrath and ruin.
“Enrage!”
Cambion’s spell sent his wrath radiating out from him for hundreds of yards in every direction.
He touched them all. Drew power from their collective wrath. He could see it flow into him as a tendril-like reddish mist with his magic-touched vision.
None of the fighters battling over the five mansions in the surrounding area escaped his reach.
“I share my wrath with you all!” Cambion laughed madly. “Am I not generous?”
The rangers snarled and threw themselves at him with inarticulate cries.
All semblance of thought and tactics fled from their minds.
Weapons, spells, and Skills were forgotten.
Only a blood red haze remained.
Kill and destroy.
Nothing else was left.
----------------------------------------
Nila came out of the dark alley and hit the gang at about forty miles an hour.
Human bodies bounced of her Threnosh armor like rain drops or bugs on the freeway.
She was a train and they were squishy bags filled with jelly.
Ironic, considering her old career.
Also… a little bit horrifying.
Unfortunately for the gang she couldn’t afford to take it easy.
There were a couple hundred assholes she need to get through to find their leader. The moronically named X-Ray.
She hit and moved.
The Threnosh-made bat Cal had brought her was better in every way from her old weapon. It was about three feet long of super science metal that was practically unbreakable. The entire thing was shaped as one solid piece. From the spikes and studs ringing the last third of its length to the circular guard that protected the grip, which she had wrapped with the same type of grip tape that she had grown accustomed to over the years.
She broke bone and crushed internal organs with every strike, even glancing blows were devastating.
The gang members tried to fight back, but she was in the middle of their unorganized mob.
The idiots hadn’t even used scouts to screen their advance. Overconfident in their eagerness to do some pillaging while the majority of the rangers were gone.
One struck Nila across the side of her head with a lucky axe blow.
The steel blade barely scratched the armor, while Nila’s head barely moved to the side.
She punted the guy into others, scattering them like bowling pins.
A fireball splashed in front of her, throwing up broken shards of asphalt.
The helmet’s faceplate automatically dimmed to protect her vision.
Nila mowed right over the mage.
Gunfire plinked off her armor.
The morons were actually shooting at her while she was in the middle of their formation.
Screams filled the air as, predictably, they shot each other.
More spells boomed.
A flash of light, then a stronger, sustained glow appeared up ahead, hidden by more men.
Nila found her target.
“All of you… turn back or get smashed!”
“Fuck you, bitch!”
X-Ray.
The gang parted like wheat in front of Nila.
Their leader was already glowing. His skeleton and internal organs were briefly visible as he moved.
Mages poured spells into the man as he sprinted at Nila.
Fast for a man his size, but nothing to Nila.
She sidestepped and cracked him with her best home run swing.
X-Ray resembled a roman candle’s star as he lit up the night sky in an arc before he dropped behind a building a good distance away.
Stunned silence.
“Now!” Nila roared.
The conscripts in the back of the formation turned and ran. While the remains of the hardened core that Nila had steamrolled cursed her and attacked.
“I don’t have time for this,” Nila leapt over everyone to the top of what remained of a McDonalds. The radio in her ear crackled with the location of the next closest incursion. Several gangs were attacking all along the northern border. “All yours,” she said into the radio.
They no longer had to face Nila, but the gang didn’t have time to enjoy the reprieve.
Three squads of rangers had gotten into position to form a proper kill box around X-Ray’s gang.
They rained fire down on the gang from the roofs of the surrounding buildings.
----------------------------------------
The fighting was fierce.
Rayna watched it all from overhead.
She saw her rangers dying. Heard their cries through the walkie-talkie on her belt and with her superior hearing.
She wanted nothing more than to plug her ears, pull her people out of there and crush the bastards killing them.
There were too many.
The rangers were better individually and had superior teamwork compared to the enemy forces, which appeared to be a mix of the mansions’ guards and local gangs.
The problem was that from the looks of it they were fighting at a five to one disadvantage.
Enemy forces at 1345… make that 1313. Rangers down to 319.
Rayna checked her watch. “Not even an hour,” she whispered.
I’ll stop with the updates if you want?
“Keep me updated, Cal… but no numbers for my guys,” Rayna whispered.
Got it… I can jump in any time you want, just give me the wo—
Rayna winced with the spike of pain in her brain.
Powerful magic pulsed.
Rayna felt her gaze directed to a mansion roughly in the center of the other four.
“What was it?”
I don’t know, let me— Rayna! Flares! Home!
Rayna snapped her head to the south.
From this high up and with the clear skies she could see over a great distance.
Nearly fifty miles away down the 405 freeway dozens of red pinpricks blinked in the dark.
“I can’t leave,” Rayna said in growing horror, “how close are you to gathering the HVT’s?”
There are still 34 unsecured.
“I’ll come to you and take the ones you’ve gathered so far. Then you go home.”
Are you sure? I can—
The rest of her brother’s thoughts were drowned out by the red tide that swamped her thoughts.
Rage. Rage. Rage.
Rayna’s tight grip on her power slipped as she sought to quench her thirst on the nearest available target.
A powerful presence stood out like a beacon high above her.
She was poised to strike when it suddenly winked out along with the red haze over her eyes.
You’re alright, Rayna. I’m blocking the spell’s effects. Problem is I can’t do it for everyone fighting down there. Your friend here tried to claw my eyes out, but she’s alright. I put her and the baby to sleep.
“What was that?”
Enrage spell. I’ve pinpointed the one responsible. His mindscape is a disgusting place.
“I think this is a good time for you to interfere.”
I’d love to, but this Cambion has suddenly spiked in power level. I can’t take care of him while keeping afloat with dozens of people and protecting you and me from the spell.
“Where is he?”
Her brother showed her.
The young man’s flesh was practically cracking from the power within. Red-purple energy glowed from underneath his skin in irregular lines.
Rangers threw themselves at the young man only to die violently as spells and bare hands tore them apart.
The mansion is empty of HVT’s, but rangers keep pouring in.
“I’ll handle it,” Rayna’s voice cracked.
She knew what she had to do and what it would cost her.
----------------------------------------
13th squad hit the immaculately cut lawn running.
Except for Two-toes, who tripped, but turned it into a roll.
“Nice save!” Iz shot her two thumbs up.
Two-toes returned the gesture with a different set of fingers.
The mansion’s exterior was dark with windows sealed by steel shutters.
“The bars on the windows really adds to the prison feel,” Smores studied them with a critical eye. “Sarge, we’re not getting inside without making a lot of noise.”
Mouthy slapped the back of the young man’s head. “No shit, try saying something the stupidest of us don’t already know.”
“She means herself,” Iz added helpfully.
One-eye pointed to the side of the mansion. “There’s a door.”
“Iz, see if you can open it,” Sgt. Butcher said.
“Got it, sarge.”
“Pk, Catscratch watch his back.”
Two affirmative grunts from the massive men.
“Aims, Mouthy,” Sgt. Butcher pointed to the far corner of the mansion on their right, “secure and see if there’s a sliding door or something near.”
The diminutive young man drew a pair of antique six-shooters. “On it.”
“Don’t worry, sarge,” Mouthy grinned.
“Hardhat, Two-toes, you’ve got the left corner. Smores and Chains, with me.”
Orders dispensed Sgt. Butcher moved close to the door Iz was busy working on.
A loud chime sounded in their heads.
Congratulations!
You have received a Quest.
Defeat Baal.
Success Parameters: Kill or Capture Baal
Failure Parameters: Death, capture, or retreat.
Reward: 20000 Universal Points.
Failure: Death or enslavement.
Will you accept?
“What the fuck is a ‘Baal’?” Mouthy whispered into Aims’ ear.
“Jesus, not so close… I don’t know, but probably one of the big shots.”
Iz’s face was a mask of concentration as he fiddled with the lock. “Sounds like the edgiest of lords.”
“Gonna be good to smash his or her face in,” PK grunted.
“Sarge, maybe we should pull back. Extra variables aren’t good. They’re dropping a surprise boss battle on us,” Smores said.
Chains flipped her lighter along her fingers. “Rayna’s brother said that there was a stronger presence inside. So, not really a surprise, yeah?”
“We’re already down two to one in numbers. We might have the edge in levels, definitely in tactics, but throw in this boss guy,” Smores shrugged, “just voicing my opinion on the risk.”
Sgt. Butcher scowled.
This didn’t give any hints as to her thoughts. Since it was also her resting face.
“Sarge,” Iz hissed back, “I’ve got it. Should I open?”
“Do it.”
There was an audible click as Iz twisted the picks in the lock. He winced then stepped out of the way so Catscratch could take point behind his large shield. The slits in his helmet revealed eyes that seemed to glint in the moonlight as he turned to look at the sergeant.
At her signal he opened the door carefully and entered the mansion.
A short and narrow hallway opened up into an enormous basement divided into several caged sections, like a prison or a dungeon.
“Oh shit!” Mouthy stood open-mouthed.
The cages were filled with people.
“No one say a word,” Catscratch growled.
In truth the warning wasn’t entirely necessary.
Most of the people appeared to be in a drugged state as they lay on dirty mats on the cold concrete.
“Sarge?”
“Keep going. We’ll free them after we’re done upstairs.”
“Wait, please, help us!” one of the caged people reached through the bars.
The young woman was thin and had dark circles under her eyes. She wore only a thin shift and a dog collar around her neck.
“We will,” Sgt. Butcher said.
“No, please!” the young woman pleaded. “He took my brother!”
“What can you tell me about this place? The guards, where are they posted? Someone called ‘Baal’—”
The young woman flinched as if struck.
“Where is he?”
“The guards are all on the other side of the house. Guarding the stairs and the entrances to the west wing on the first and second floor. They use the garage as their base when not on duty.”
“No guards on this side of the house?”
“We’re in here… there’s no reason for them to guard us.”
“What about babies?”
The young woman hesitated. “They’re all in the west wing. They use the exercise room as a nursery for the youngest. Toddlers are kept in the rooms on the second floor. The rooms in the east wing are empty since those kids got old enough to…”
“And Baal?”
“The master is in his bedroom on the second floor in the west wing at the end of the hallway, where he takes us—” the young woman’s eyes widened and she clutched at the sergeant’s sleeve, “that’s where my brother is right now. Please, you have to help him. The master looked… worse than he ever has… I- I- I think my brother—”
Sgt. Butcher gently, but firmly pried the young woman’s bony fingers off. “PK, what do you think?”
“Kid’s telling the truth as she sees it.”
“Sarge, don’t think we need all of us to handle the trash. We can let these poor people out and take them back to Rayna’s brother where they’ll be safe.”
“No, you can’t!” the young woman hissed. She tugged at her collar. “The master will know if we leave the house. He’ll hurt us.”
“Well that settles that,” One-eye spat, “this is bullshit. We need to kill those bastards and turn this Baal into meat chunks, like, right now.”
“Yup, don’t normally agree with Miss ‘I have to turn to look on my right’, but most of these poor people are high as fuck. They ain’t running anywhere,” Mouthy said.
“Iz, open the cages.” Sgt. Butcher silenced the young woman’s protests with a stone cold stare. “In case things go wrong, so those who can run will at least have a chance. Run up the hills. Our people are there. Just get their attention.”
“The basement leads into the kitchen. Two doors lead into the dining room and one of the living rooms. The stairs are beyond those two rooms. The dining room door opens up to the front area and the foot of the stairs. There’ll probably be guards there.”
“Thank you, we’ll see what we can do for your brother,” Sgt. Butcher said.
“What’s the play, sarge?” Catscratch said. “I’m itching.”
“Smores?”
“Right, sarge… so, I’m betting this Baal is a strong mage going by the specific Quest we just got and the fact that we couldn’t scry this place for months. Which means we use magic and it’ll probably tip him off. We need to take out the guards at the stairs quickly and quietly. If they aren’t complete morons they’ll split their guards between the first floor and second floor. In the nursery and in the hallways. Any one off duty will be in the garage.”
“Well, how smart can they be if they don’t have patrols outside and they left the entire east side unprotected?” Two-toes said.
“They feel safe in here, invincible,” Smores’ smile was all teeth.
“One-eye, what’s your danger sense at?”
“At about medium-high, sarge,” One-eye shrugged, “like it’s been since we flew in.”
“You are one cold bitch,” Mouthy said begrudgingly.
Hardhat nodded. “I couldn’t even tell you were at the level. Iz’s is smiling, but you can tell he’s crapping his pants by how sweaty he is.”
“It’s hot in here,” Iz said lightly.
“Your danger sense is shit compared to One-eye’s anyways,” Mouthy sneered.
“We hit the guards on the stairs. No magic, no Skills,” Sgt. Butcher said.
“I suggest One-eye and Catscratch take the guards on the second floor, while PK and Mouthy take the guards at the foot of the stairs. Obviously, they go through the dining room. Meanwhile, Sarge, Hardhat and Two-toes go through the living room in case there are guards on the back side of the stairs,” Smores said.
“Hey, PK, punch with your strongest kick,” Iz said solemnly.
The giant of a man’s confusion was displayed by his furrowed brow.
“There’s a patio out back and it looked like it lined up with that area and the living room. Didn’t see anyone on post,” Aims said.
Smores nodded. “Like I said. Their security is lax. The rest of us will stay in the kitchen. Once the guards at the stairs are neutralized we’ll move to standard tactics. Catscratch will tank, PK will provide close support. One-eye will fall back, while Mouthy will switch to her MP5. Aims, you’ll move up ready to take out Baal as soon as he sticks his head out of his door. The rest of us will ambush the first floor guards when they come through the hallway. We’ll make adjustments as needed. Chains and Iz be ready. Once the screaming starts we’ll be magic free. Oh… mind your aim. There are babies and toddlers all over the place.”
“Hit hard, hit fast, hit first and last,” Sgt. Butcher said.