Now, Earth
Jake squeezed off his last couple of rounds to keep the cultists’ heads down.
They, state government forces and some of the Resistance, were pinned down in some kind of underground cistern to hold excess water during storms to prevent floods.
The Resistance had hammered torch sconces into the walls and a few of the pillars to give it that dank, creepy medieval dungeon ambiance.
Giant concrete pillars provided cover from the cultists’ return fire.
The dimness was momentarily driven away by the gunfire and spells that flew back and forth as neither side could break the stalemate.
Time wasn’t on Jake and his group’s side.
Cultist reinforcements continued to pour in.
“I’m out,” Jake racked his empty pistol and holstered it. He was down to his spell devices, but they were also running low on stored mana, just like him. “What’s the plan, boss?”
Detective Ordonez leaned out from behind the pillar to shoot at a cultist peeking out of a tunnel mouth. The shotgun blast blew out a chunk of concrete and forced the cultist back. “Pace your shots, Gates.”
“Er… yeah…” Jake checked his smart phone. Not good. “Shouldn’t we be trying to get out of here?”
“We’re pinned down.” Detective Ordonez tilted her head toward the tunnel on the opposite side, where a bloodied group of Resistance members had emerged several minutes ago. “The cult’s got every tunnel out of here covered.”
A spell blast hit Jake’s pillar and sent dust and masonry showering down on him and the soldier taking cover. The state government forces were much diminished. They had lost a few more in the desperate retreat. Less than fifteen remained, including Jake and the detective.
Jake itched to cast his shield spell, but with low mana he had to keep it ready for a truly desperate moment.
A woman cultist broke out of the opposite tunnel and charged toward a knot of Resistance.
“What the fu—!” Jake couldn’t quite believe what he saw despite everything he had already seen from the cultists over the last couple of days.
The woman’s forearms were covered in what looked like thick growths of coral. She held them in front of her as she charged into the Resistance’s fire.
Bullets, arrows and spells stuck the cultist’s unnatural shields. Yet, she kept coming. She slammed into the Resistance members. A pair of cultists had gone unnoticed in her wake.
One set a couple of Resistance members on fire with a spray of flame from his hands.
The other had a set of rasping tentacles rip the skin right off with each vicious lash.
Jake almost broke cover to rush over, but the other soldier grabbed his arm and pulled him back just in time as a fireball splashed against the ground where he had just stepped. The flames splashed up on his pant leg. He hastily patted them out.
The Resistance members were doomed unless someone stepped in.
There was no one.
Until Bennett stepped out of the shadows on the pillar. Thin and tall, in dark clothing, he resembled a scarecrow with his long limbs and gaunt appearance.
Bennett descended on the cultist mage.
The man didn’t see Bennett.
A blink.
The cultist’s head tumbled to the left, while his body collapsed to the right.
The woman cultist with the tentacle arms turned at the dull thud.
Bennett thrust his hand into her chest and ripped her heart out.
The woman cultist with the coral covered arms turned to face the new threat. That was a mistake.
A Resistance member stabbed her in the back with a knife.
Bennett melted back into the shadows.
“I didn’t remember him being able to do stuff like that,” Jake said numbly. He was grossed out by what he had just witnessed. He wasn’t sure that the poor bastards deserved to go out like that.
“It’s been years,” Detective Ordonez scowled at the shadow Bennett had disappeared into, “things change.”
Bennett’s sudden appearance and disappearance had the cultists spooked. They had been threatening an all out rush, but now they pulled back deeper into the tunnel mouths.
Safety in numbers, but after Bennett’s display, Jake wouldn’t bet on it.
“We only have to hold out a little longer.”
Jake nearly jumped out of his skin.
The voice had come from above him.
Bennett had reappeared out of the shadows and clung upside to the pillar like some demented insect.
Jake hadn’t noticed it before, but Bennett’s eyes shined blood red in the torch light.
“Explain,” Detective Ordonez didn’t blink.
She was stone cold. Jake was jealous of her ability to keep the freak out from showing.
“Reinforcements are minutes away,” Bennett looked to the tunnel that they had come from, “the cultists are about to be hit from behind. When they are, I’ll hit those guys from the back, while you guys charge them from the front,” he looked to the opposite tunnel.
“How do you know this?” Detective Ordonez held Bennett’s blood red gaze without flinching.
“He talks to rats,” Jake said helpfully.
Bennett grinned. His sharp fangs didn’t go unnoticed.
Detective Ordonez stared at Bennett, searching. Apparently, she found what she was looking for because she gave him a tight nod. “We’ll do it your way. What’s your signal for the attack?”
“Listen for the screaming,” Bennett said flatly.
“Man… you’ve changed,” Jake said.
“I’ve seen what the cult does behind closed doors. If you had than you’d perhaps understand my newfound… bloodthirstiness,” Bennett shrugged.
“I have a pretty good idea,” Detective Ordonez said.
“To know intellectually is not the same as watching it firsthand. The experience forced me to reexamine myself. Was I the type of man that lived in a place where such evil occurred? What if I had the ability to do something about it? What lines would I cross?” Bennett’s eyes seemed to blaze in the dim light. “I decided that perhaps those lines needed shifting.”
Jake felt a shiver crawl up his spine.
Bennett slowly melted into the shadow.
“Be ready. So much is at stake for your people. Now is not the time to be scared of bloodshed.”
Jake, the other soldiers and fighters stared at the shadow in stunned silence.
“You heard the man!” Detective Ordonez barked. “We move on the screams.”
Jake couldn’t reconcile the Bennett he remembered from several years ago. That man had been scared shitless of everything around him, despite having cool abilities.
“Dude really leveled up…”
----------------------------------------
The golden retriever weredog, Kare, didn’t leave much of the cultists for Hanna and the rest. She was a huge tearing machine of teeth and claws. The tunnels didn’t give the cultists space to maneuver. Kare was in their midst before they could blink.
“She’s more dangerous than she seemed,” Gene said.
Hanna didn’t reply. She had seen what the weredogs were capable of against soft targets, which was basically most people. She hurried after Kare. The others followed closely behind.
They encountered several groups of cultists.
Rather, Kare, in her monstrous bipedal form fell upon them from behind.
Hanna and the others were always just a few seconds behind. They didn’t have much to do other than avoid stepping in the blood and body parts that the weredog had left in her wake.
“Gross,” Johnny whispered.
“Breathe through your mouth,” Megan said.
“Doesn’t help that much,” Johnny muttered.
Hanna was stopped short by the sight of the huge golden-furred back taking up most of the tunnel space.
Kare turned and gave Hanna a sight out of a nightmare.
The weredog’s smile revealed bloody, dagger-like teeth with chunks of flesh stuck in between.
Kare raised a long, clawed finger up to her muzzle.
Hanna frowned. It looked like Kare was giving her the shush sign.
The weredog pointed down the tunnel and beckoned Hanna over.
Hanna steeled her nerves and carefully approached.
They were supposed to be on the same side, but Hanna couldn’t help the tightening of her grip on her shield and longsword. She had to be ready for anything. Even if close quarters combat with the weredog was a losing proposition.
Kare squeezed herself against one side of the tunnel to give Hanna room.
Hanna took Megan’s advice and breathed out of her mouth. The predator and carrion smell was a lot stronger up close.
Kare gestured to the left side of the T-shaped tunnel intersection.
Hanna crept forward cautiously and tried to ignore the feeling of having an eight foot tall mountain of muscle and fur looming behind. It was like being a small rabbit in front of a giant dog. She didn’t like the reminder that she wasn’t at the top of the food chain.
Hanna slowly, carefully peeked around the corner.
Cultists huddled near the end of the tunnel.
She could see torch lights playing in the large space at the end of the tunnel.
The cultists popped out of the tunnel to fire guns and spells.
Bright flashes lit up the dark tunnels.
Return fire.
They’d finally caught up.
Hanna nodded to Kare and held up a hand. She hoped the sign to wait was clear. She moved quickly back to the rest of her group further back in the tunnel.
“What is it?” Megan whispered.
“I think we found the government people or maybe the Resistance. Cultists are at the end of the tunnel. It looks like they have our people pinned down, but they’re still firing back,” Hanna said.
“Do we attack?” Gene said.
“Might be risky. We don’t know what kind of shape our side’s in,” Max said.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Alexa said. The woman was still drawn and pale, but she wasn’t being supported by Olo any longer.
Hanna nodded. “This is our best chance. The cultists don’t know we’re coming. Plus…” she glanced at Kare.
The others nodded.
They weren’t dumb. The weredog would attack first and draw all the attention. With luck they wouldn’t need to do much.
Hanna signaled Kare with short slash of her sword.
Kare exploded around the corner of the tunnel.
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She swiped left and right as she ran through the cultist group.
Hanna expected Kare to rip the entire bunch apart like she had before. Except this time the weredog didn’t stop. She rushed right through and left a good chunk of the cultists wounded but alive.
“What’s she doing?” Gene groaned as Kare disappeared out of the tunnel mouth.
“Leaving us people, apparently.” Hanna grimaced. She processed the scene quickly. Twelve cultists wounded, but still capable of a fight. Five down on the ground, dead or dying. Less of a threat, but still potentially dangerous with magic, Skills and that strange Fleshcraft ability. “Olo, taunt!” she barked.
“On me!” the big young man banged his spear on the side of his shield.
Most of the cultists turned their attention to him or heedlessly charged at him. A few ignored him.
Hanna marked these as more dangerous. They had to be more powerful than Olo to ignore the taunt.
“Gene, fireball, right side.”
Hanna sliced the back of the cultist’s thigh as he ran by her to force him to the ground.
A bright yellow-red orb streaked through the space and exploded against the side of the tunnel wall.
Hanna ducked behind the shield to protect her night vision as the dark tunnel momentarily went bright as day.
The cultists weren’t as ready. They had been preoccupied with diving out of the way.
Hanna dashed into their midst. She stabbed and slashed with precision. Not a movement was wasted. Her footwork was practically perfect even in the dimness of the tunnel.
A cultist stabbed at her with a spine that came out of his palm like an automatic knife. She blocked with her shield and stabbed the man in the gut. His leather jacket was tough, but ultimately useless against sharp steel.
The cultist spat and laughed. “Got you, bitch!”
Hanna tried to withdraw her blade, but found it stuck.—
“The Deep Azure has deemed me worthy of more than one gift. What are your paltry Skills compared to the touch of a god?”
Vibrating Blade, Hanna thought. She had always wondered why people called out their abilities. Was she just better than the rest? Perhaps they hadn’t risen to her level?
The cultist’s smile fell away.
Hanna wiggled her sword in the man’s stomach. Side to side, up and down.
“What’re you do—”
The cultist was cut off as Hanna jerked her blade up to the ceiling.
“My Skills are sufficient,” Hanna said.
The cultist’s bisected upper half gorily flopped to each side before he fell back.
Hanna thanked the darkness for obscuring the sight. The sound of the cultist’s organs squelching out was disgusting enough.
“Magic Missile,” a cultist squeaked.
Hanna grimaced as the back of her plate armor grew burning hot. She spun and charged into the woman. She bashed the woman with her shield and then stabbed down.
Again, Hanna thanked the darkness. The cultist had sounded terrified and it was a blessing not to see that look on her face.
“Help!”
Hanna turned at Gene’s cry.
The rest of her group wasn’t fairing as well.
Gene had his ghostly, magic buckler in one hand, sword in the other, desperately fending off a set of octopus-like tentacles coming out of a cultist’s mouth.
The stupid kid had forgotten proper footwork in his panic. Worst of all was that he had been caught out of position. He was on the wrong side of his tank.
Olo was holding back three cultists with his large rectangular shield. The cultist’s frenzied attacks were too close and too much for him to effectively use his spear.
The tight confines of the tunnel meant that none of the others behind Olo could get around his huge body to land their own attacks.
“Shit! Back attack!” Johnny yelled.
“Incoming cultists to the rear of our formation,” Max said calmly.
“Eldritch Dart!”
Alexa’s voice.
All Hanna could see was a reddish-pink light streaking away down the tunnel.
“I’ll try to block them!” Max said. “Poison gas!” Green-colored gas emanated from his hands.
“Holy fuckballs, man! Are you sure? If it drifts back this way…?” Johnny again.
“What’re you worried about? I heard you sneak-types have to practice holding your breath. Besides, wind’s blowing in from the tunnel mouth. We’ll be fine.”
Sure enough the noxious cloud expanded to fill the tunnel as it drifted toward the oncoming cultists.
Hanna moved to help when a tentacle wrapped itself around her ankle. The next thing she knew she was flying back out of the tunnel mouth.
“Oh crap!” Bastien groaned.
“What happened!” Megan’s voice was shriller than she’d like.
“Hanna went flying.”
“Some help, guys… running out of time,” Olo called back.
“Keisha,” Megan said.
“What about those fools coming from the back?” Keisha frowned at the shit show developing in front of her.
“My poison’s holding them back for now,” Max said.
“Danger sense!” Johnny screamed like a girl.
Max raised his branch-covered arm. Dull thuds filled the tunnel. He grunted in pain. “Damn… one got through… some kind of spine,” his voice grew weaker, “feeling weird… poison… don’t get hit… I’ve… some immunity.”
The branches around Max’s arm shifted to pull the spine out of his arm.
“Megan—” Keisha began.
“Healing, right, got it,” Megan steeled herself.”
“Johnny, Bastien, help Olo and Gene. Alexa…”
The woman was leaning against the wall. She still didn’t look good from when she had used her Sense Eldritch Skill.
“… do what you can,” Keisha finished.
Alexa nodded weakly.
“C’mon, I’ll cover you,” Keisha raised her shield and rushed in front of Max and Megan as the latter worked her magic.
More spines struck Keisha’s shield, but they couldn’t penetrate. She couldn’t see anything past the poison gas.
“They don’t seem willing to run through the gas, how long is it going to last, Max?”
“Five minutes, unless it gets blown away. Less effective as it gets dispersed.” Max already sounded better.
“What does the gas do?” Megan said more for her sake than anyone else. To keep her mind off the fact that she was in the middle of a battle. She had no idea what was happening with her youngest daughter, her oldest and her husband. She shouldn’t have agreed to separate with Veronica. How had she allowed them to convince her that had been a good idea?
“It’s like weaponized Ipecac, make you puke, like all of your guts,” Max whispered. “It’s basically like Chlorine gas, becomes acid in the lungs!” he shouted toward the cultists.
“Either works for me,” Keisha muttered. It’d be easy to bash the cultists if they were puking and defenseless. She spared a glance back to the boys.
They were still arguing.
Rather, Johnny was.
“C’mon, Seabass! Why don’t you just do that burn evil aura thing,” Johnny almost whined.
“I’m trying,” Bastien hissed between clenched teeth. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but sweat glistened on the young man’s forehead. “Something is stopping me.”
Johnny felt an overwhelming surge of despair at that.
“No,” Bastien whispered. He started to pray, audibly this time.
Johnny’s despair lessened. “No fucking way,” he muttered. “It’s that Cthulhu dickwad… Deep Azure-whatever. Bro is messing with our minds.”
“I warned you, but no one seemed to hear me when I mentioned something off was going on,” Alexa said weakly.
“Did you? I think I’d remember.”
“I’ve been bitching about it ever since we got here… at least I think I have. Hard to remember, brain foggy right now…” Alexa trailed off.
Johnny blinked. What was she saying?”
“Bulwark!” Olo bellowed. “C’mon, dudes! Hurry up and do something!”
“I’m trying not to get tentacled!” Gene huffed. All thoughts of proper footwork had gone out the window as he frantically tried to block, parry and cut at the many tentacles striking at him from the cultist’s mouth.
“Fuck this shit!” Johnny snapped.
He took a deep breath and suddenly no one paid attention to him. A mixture of enhanced reflexes, agility and perceptions allowed him to vault up the side of the tunnel and use Olo’s broad shoulders as a springboard to jump over the three cultists. He landed in an almost perfect crouch that sounded like a whisper.
“Bleed, Quick Blades.” Johnny said as softly as possible.
To speak meant he couldn’t hold his breath.
One of the cultists turned around at the sound.
Johnny had less than thirty seconds for his Skills. He slashed and stabbed at all three cultists with abandon. His hands blurred faster than he could’ve done normally.
The cultists’ wounds gushed blood.
Johnny could see the looks of confusion on their faces as they focused on the injuries.
“Fleshcraft not working?” Johnny gave them his best shit-eating grin before he sucked in a breath and ducked out of the way of a clubbing tentacle.
“Help, Gene!” Olo stabbed a cultist in the back with his spear. “Shield Bash!” he slammed another one into the wall with a loud crunch. Enhanced Strength combined with the Skill was akin to being hit by a charging bull.
Tentacle mouth was kicking Gene’s ass.
The cultist had drawn blood through Gene’s supposedly cut-resistant kevlar clothing. Only his steel chest piece had held up under the tentacles’ rasping undersides.
Gene lost concentration for a moment.
The cultist wrapped his tentacles around Gene’s sword hilt and pulled.
Too strong, Gene let go lest he get pulled along.
He saw the glimmer of triumph in the cultist’s eyes right before a look of pain. The cultist stumbled.
“What’re you waiting for?”
Johnny suddenly appeared next to Gene.
Gene dropped his magic buckler.
He thrust his right hand at the cultist. “Magic Missile!”
Three purple orbs materialized at his fingertips and arced into the cultist’s robe covered chest.
He thrust his left hand. “Fire Spray!”
Flames engulfed the cultist.
Gene and Johnny jumped back as the cultist’s tentacles flailed wildly. Some appeared to be trying to stamp the flames out, while others sought out targets to hurt.
The cultist dropped and started to roll.
“Damn it!” Gene spat as he rushed forward in an attempt to recover his sword.
He couldn’t get close enough thanks to the flailing tentacles.
“On Me!”
The tentacles suddenly strained toward Olo.
Gene and Johnny exchanged a look.
Johnny repeatedly stabbed the cultist until the tentacles stopped moving.
“Nice job, kil— uurrkk.”
Another tentacle had wrapped around Johnny’s neck.
They had forgotten about the cultist that had yanked Hanna out of the tunnel.
Gene moved without thinking. He kicked his sword up to his hand and spun around Johnny in one smooth motion to shear through the tentacle.
“Magic Missile!”
The orbs burned holes through the cultist’s face.
Gene had a brief look at the result before the light winked out. He would have nightmares about it for a long time.
“Thanks, bro,” Johnny coughed. His neck was ringed by a collar of blood weeping sores.
“Olo, get back here and help me block. We need to link up with the others,” Keisha barked.
They moved toward the tunnel mouth.
The only thing that kept the remaining cultists from chasing was Max’s poison cloud.
The clock ticked down.
----------------------------------------
Then, Threnosh
“I am concerned,” PJ15 said. “My trueskin… detects… observation.”
“Specify,” Brightstrike said.
PJ15 couldn’t, didn’t want to. Their power armor didn’t actually detect any tangible signs of surveillance. All of their scans into the surrounding city section had returned nothing. Just as expected from a dead environment.
What PJ15 had experienced through their power armor was a feeling of being watched. A presence that simply didn’t exist by all observable metrics.
What they had was instinct, a gut feeling that something was wrong. Even without their power armor they would’ve felt it. It was just that the Threnosh as a people had engineered such things out of their genetics long ago. Then again PJ15 was considered Defective for a reason.
“I am unable,” PJ15 said.
“Let us take cover and reassess.”
Brightstrike pointed to a nearby structure.
PJ15 transformed their power armored fingers into talons to pry the sliding door open.
The structure opened up to a wide space with fabricating machinery laid out in an orderly fashion.
They moved deeper into the space and found a defensible position.
Brightstrike wiped a thick layer of dust off the side of a machine. “Judging by the disuse it is unlikely that the Inheritors have set up surveillance equipment in here. Do you detect anything?”
“I detect nothing.”
“Neither do I, but my trueskin’s sensor system is rudimentary. Not much better than a standard infantry soldier’s.”
PJ15 simply lacked the understanding to put what they felt into words.
“Is this course of action wise?”
“Again with this?” Brightstrike said.
“Now that we have Honor’s potential location is it not better to return with our full complement? We will certainly receive less Universal Points due to division, but is that an acceptable reason?”
“I care not for the points. I believe we must act with all due haste to release Honor from captivity. The longer time passes the greater the probability that the enemy will do lasting damage.”
“Honor is strong,” PJ15 believed.
“Acknowledged, yet this enemy has captured him. This suggests they are equal or greater in strength.”
“Then, to succeed we must bring greater strength than just the two of us.”
“A full force attack will be detected in advance. The enemy will have time to move Honor or attempt to destroy him to deny rescue. Our probability of approaching undetected is greater.”
“I am uncertain,” PJ15 admitted.
“You are one of our newest members. That is to be expected. We owe our very existence to Honor. If not for his efforts we would still be in our Defective prisons or ineffectively spent against invasive organisms by commanders that do not understand how to strengthen us to our full potential. I owe my capabilities to Honor.”
“I do not understand. Honor himself stated that his proficiency with the weapons your trueskin creates is lacking.”
“Truth,” Brightstrike nodded. “However, it was Honor’s idea to use ancient records of our predecessors weapon techniques to program training and combat simulations. The programmers would never have thought to do so without his direction. He may lack in skill and technique, but I have learned from our many spars. His speed and strength provided valuable lessons.”
“We draw close to the end of the empty city sections. It will become more difficult to avoid possible detection,” PJ15 tried.
Brightstrike shook their head. “The vehicle tunnel will take us very close to the heart of our target zone. A security station is nearby. We will be able to scan for Honor’s location while creating a distraction, which will allow us to reach and free Honor. As we planned.”
PJ15 had nothing else to say. Despite the concern they couldn’t put into words, they nodded.
“Acknowledged.”
Weeks of silent and painstakingly slow travel was almost at an end. Or so the two Threnosh thought.
Time would prove them wrong. For an entity they couldn’t imagine had other plans for them.