Now, Earth
An emergency leadership team meeting was trouble. It had been bad news back before the spires when Barry was management, now it was potentially fatal news.
The city hall conference room wasn’t full. There were as many empty seats around the table as filled.
The true believers had taken to calling the room, The Sanctum.
Barry thought that was stupid, but the Deep Azure seemed to approve, which meant the Scions did by extension.
It was impossible to truly know what the powerful entity thought. Its communication was a rare thing, reserved only for those that had advanced deep into its worship. Even then, one only received strange feelings, impressions and images in their dreams. Or were they actually nightmares?
Barry shuddered involuntarily. He had been only blessed a few times by the Deep Azure. Brief touches as he slept. He would never, could never, forget the experience. No matter how much he wished.
Fear filled Barry.
Mistakes had been made over the last few days.
The Scions of the Deep Azure dealt harshly with failure and there could be no doubt that there was a lot of that to go around.
They had finally given the order to take care of the Resistance once and for all. They had trusted the human believers to handle it.
Barry hadn’t agreed. The Resistance was mostly harmless. Vandalism and property damage was the worst of what they did. He thought that they gave malcontents an outlet without pushing them toward real violence. Even so, he had kept silent on the matter. The Scions had spoken and despite Laura’s proclamations that the Deep Azure saw the Scions and humans as equally partners, the mask had slipped. The truth had been revealed.
Not that Barry had bought into that bullshit. Oh, he had bought in fully, but that was because he decided to go with the lesser evil.
The Deep Azure had brought safety and a return to normalcy for the surviving people of San Francisco.
Barry wondered if he had made a terrible mistake.
He was trapped now and he couldn’t see a way out.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Cordelia?”
The temperature of the cult’s inner sanctum seemed to drop precipitously. Several people shivered and hugged themselves as they tried to avoid Laura’s gaze.
The sharply-dressed young woman didn’t blink. She sat straight and tall in her chair. Head held high, chin up. “I’ve already provided a detailed report. I’m in the process of gathering more information. I don’t have anything else to add at this time.”
Barry noted that Cordelia’s eyes were fixed on a point on the wall above and behind Laura’s head.
The old woman slowly brought her hand up. The sleeves of her magical robe fell back to reveal a fair-skinned arm.
Barry remembered it had been wrinkled and covered in liver spots once. Those had slowly disappeared, while the skin smoothed as Laura had advanced deeper into the Deep Azure. The change was most striking in her face.
Laura was close to eighty years old when they had struck their bargain. That had been roughly six years ago. Now she looked two decades younger.
Barry unconsciously touched the scars on his face. Courtesy of monsters and mutant animals. The pain in his joints seemed to call out. Decades old souvenirs of an athletic young man that grew up in an era when proper stretching and recovery measures weren’t understood.
It could all be fixed, reversed.
All he had to do was put in more service. More devotion.
Barry was jolted from his thoughts by Laura’s hand slapping down on the table.
“Not good enough. We need to have answers for why our operation to eradicate the Resistance failed. Why we have yet to bring the Scions what they want. You say that you have nothing? Then, perhaps I will tell them that failure is on your head. It’s due to the traitorous actions of two of your dogs that we’re in this position.”
“Once Chance and Scott have recovered from their injuries, we will track Rino, Karen and the rest down,” Cordelia said stiffly.
Barry wasn’t sure that the young woman believed her own words.
“Does it matter?” Barry said, mostly to take the pressure off Cordelia. “I mean, their elite-level people are clearly more powerful than ours. Rino and Kare cancel out Chance and Scott.”
“If I may?” Rupert raised a hand.
Barry suppressed a scowl and nodded.
The fat man opened a binder and thumbed through the pages. “Nila Chen: Enhanced strength, speed, durability, but not to the extent that her skin is bullet proof. Hanna Gozen: likely a sword-based combat class. Reports suggest Skills with her swords, as well as the probability that she also has several enhanced physical passives. I believe these two can be overwhelmed by superior numbers. Moving on,” Rupert thumb to another page, “Bennett: Last name unknown, suspected Vampire. Whether this is a Class or something else is also unknown. Survivor reports indicate superhuman speed and strength, as well as the ability to move through shadows. I suspect our people being swarmed by rats, mutant and normal, during the sewer operation may have been his doing. Very dangerous. Does he have the traditional vampire vulnerability to sunlight?”
“The lack of daytime sightings suggest so,” Cordelia said.
“And last, but definitely not least. Veronica Cruces: Enhanced strength and speed, comparable to Nila Chen, but as the girl appears to be a teenager, further growth is probable. Her skin is bullet proof tough. Crucially, she has displayed an ability to somehow induce seizures in our people. Even in the Scions.”
“Is that confirmed?” Barry said. “I was under the impression that it wasn’t.”
Rupert nodded. “The how isn’t, but I believe we can safely operate on this assumption unless otherwise proven.”
“Aspirants and Touched aren’t on their level. Especially the last two,” Barry said. “It might be time to admit that we’ve made some missteps,” he carefully chose his words, “we’ve lost many people. How much longer can we sustain a conflict? Malachi has the destructive power to threaten them with his eye beams, but he is vulnerable.”
“He’s a glass cannon and he still has a concussion from dropping a roof on himself. He can’t stand up without puking. He’s not fighting,” Cordelia said.
“I have similar concerns,” Rupert said hesitantly as his eyes briefly darted to Laura.
“This table is a free place. As I have said the only bad idea is the one not shared,” Laura said.
“I’m still unclear as to what happened at the Resistance base, Agent Bratt’s house. We had people ready to go, but something weird happened and by the time they woke up and raided the place it was empty,” Rupert said.
“That loser,” Mitch snorted. “Ineffective relic of the old order, best he could do was get a bunch of kids to spray paint stupid slogans and break a few windows. That’s why we should’ve taken them all at the start. Give them the same choices as everyone else. Pay to play. If they don’t like it then they could leave.”
Barry ignored the old man.
Mitch had been out of touch before the spires. He had been all-in with man being the master of his own destiny thinking. The Deep Azure had finally provided him with concrete evidence that the ideology actually worked. Like Laura, Mitch had shaved decades off his appearance in exchange for complete devotion.
Barry knew that Mitch hadn’t considered the trade offs.
“Yeah. My understanding was that Scions were supposed to perform a ritual to make it easy for us to capture them,” Barry said.
Laura’s gaze sharpened almost imperceptibly. “That is privileged information.”
“But… we’re the leadership council?”
“Unfortunately, Barry, that may be true, but not all of us are as close to the Deep Azure as some,” Laura said.
“So, you know, but no one else?” Mitch scowled.
“That’s important information,” Rupert said.
“Yeah, it might be useful for my job,” Cordelia said.
Murmurs circled through the rest of the table.
Laura raised a hand for silence. “It’s not my call.”
Which meant the information blackout was from the Scions or the Deep Azure. Both troubling possibilities for Barry.
“How close are you with Remy Cruces?” Barry decided to prod the dragon.
“I’m proceeding within my expectations,” Laura said. Her tone suggested further questions weren’t welcome.
The strange surface of her robe swirled and Barry found that he had lost the will to know more.
“What about that other Cruces girl, Tessa?” Mitch said. “I was told to prepare a proper cell for her, but that was days ago and then nothing. After you had me rushing to get it done.”
“Again, not my place to share,” Laura said.
Mitch’s jaw tensed, but he gave her a nod.
“We have an enemy force loose in the middle of our city. I don’t believe I need to emphasize how this needs to be solved immediately. However, not all news is bad. I received word an hour ago that our efforts to undermine our enemies up river have finally born fruit. It appears that we will soon welcome others into the arms of the Deep Azure,” Laura smiled.
The others around the table did the same. Some more genuine than others.
Barry gave a tight smile. He couldn’t fake it.
A phone suddenly rang.
It was Laura’s.
“Excuse me,” she stood and left the room to take the call.
The inner council sat in silence. They had no idea how long it’d take for Laura to return. No one wanted to be caught talking when she did.
It reminded Barry of those old board room meetings. He didn’t fail to see the irony that for all that had changed some things remained the same. He had traded in one set of soul devouring masters for another. This one was, perhaps, more literal.
Laura returned with a worried look on her face. It was rare for the serene mask she wore to drop. “The Bastion is under attack.”
Before Barry could process Laura’s words he heard a muffled pop pop pop.
He immediately recognized the gunfire coming from outside.
“So are we,” Barry said. He reached for his gun, but remembered that weapons weren’t allowed inside the Sanctum. The others believed weapons in this place polluted it. Stupid. People could cast spells and those that had the Fleshcraft ability were walking weapons.
Barry scrambled for the door. He was defenseless without his gun.
In his hurry, he failed to notice one of the shadows move.
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Rino reached the top of the wall in one leap. The cultist manning the machine gun didn’t have time to scream as Rino slashed his throat and tossed the body back the way she came. She broke the machine gun off its mount and headed for the next sentry.
Kare was doing the same on the other end of the wall.
The plan was for them to clear the sentries on top then meet at the gate to open it for the others.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
They completed the grim task perfectly as they silenced the sentries one by one.
The weredogs pulled the gate open just as Nila and Veronica reached it. The rest of the group trailed a good distance behind.
As soon as the rest caught up they split their force in two groups.
There were two places where the bulk of the fort’s defenders would be located at this time. One was the mess hall and the other was the barracks.
According to the Resistance’s intelligence most of the defenders lived in their own homes in the city when not on guard duty. A smaller group stayed in the fort at all times and was rotated out in weekly intervals.
The cult operation against the Resistance had pulled a lot of their manpower away from the fort.
Nila hoped that’d make it easier to secure, so that they could search for the tunnel entrance without added problems.
Her hopes were dashed by the ringing alarms.
“How did they know!” Veronica groaned.
“Deep Azure, I think I felt something,” Bastien said.
“I didn’t,” Veronica grumbled.
Nila didn’t feel a presence shadowing her mind, but that didn’t really mean it wasn’t there. Watching and waiting to strike.
“Can’t be helped,” Hanna said. “Time to get violent.”
Megan scowled at the tall, athletic woman.
They were already close to the barracks, so Hanna sprinted for the entrance. She got there at the same time that a cultist came rushing out. She stabbed the surprised woman in the stomach then withdrew her long sword and slashed the woman’s throat in two blinks of the eye.
“I’ll hold this door! Get the other ones!” Hanna brought her shield up to block a tentacle shooting out of the doorway.
“Keisha, Max and Alexa, get that one,” Nila pointed toward the door on the west side of the barracks. “I’ll get the one on the other side. The rest of you take cover and provide back up if needed.”
Nila didn’t have time for Veronica’s protests. She tossed her heavy shield up on the roof before jumping and pulling herself up. It was quicker to head to the last door in a straight line. Nila sprinted across the roof and leapt down on top of a handful of cultists that had already exited the barracks.
She landed on them heavily with her solid, metal shield.
Broken bones everywhere.
She clubbed them all into unconsciousness or death. The possibility was clear in her mind, but she didn’t have time to be squeamish. Reflection on her actions would have to wait for when their lives weren’t in peril.
The fight wasn’t much of one in the end.
The cultists were running on a skeleton crew. Fifteen men and women were in the barracks. They tried, but weren’t on Hanna and Nila’s level.
Keisha, Max and Alexa had a tougher time against their bunch, but they won too.
They restrained the living ones and headed to the imposing steel double door that led into the main building of the fort. Presumably, they’d find the entrance to the undersea tunnels inside.
The second group, led by the weredogs met them there.
Nila saw and smelled the blood that liberally dotted the weredogs fur. She couldn’t help but count a few of their number missing.
“There were twenty cultists in the mess hall,” a soldier from Sacramento said.
Nila didn’t recognize the man.
“They did most of the work,” he gestured to the monstrous weredogs, “but we still lost three. We’re just lucky that the garrison isn’t at full strength.”
Nila nodded.
Their entire group numbered twenty at the start, now seventeen. The bulk of the state government soldiers and the Resistance’s best fighter types had gone to the feint at city hall with Bennett, Detective Ordonez, Jake and Agent Bratt.
“I think your part here is done. You’ve done more than enough. Head back to the safe zone,” Nila said.
The soldier exchanged a glance with the rest of his troops. “Sorry, ma’am, but we’re seeing this through to the end. Can’t turn back now. After everything. We owe it to our brothers and sisters that didn’t make it this far.”
Nila turned to the handful of Resistance members. “You’re clear to go home.”
“Home? We don’t have homes. Not since the spires appeared. Then when the Scions took over. We’re not fighters, but we’ll do our best. You’re basically our only chance at this point,” one of the Resistance said with a voice that trembled.
The young man managed to look Nila in the eyes.
“Okay. Let’s get the doors open,” Nila said.
It took a few minutes, but Rino and Kare gouged out enough metal to provide handholds.
Nila and Veronica each took a side. The weredogs did the same.
Rino loomed over Nila. The sound of air going in and out of the weredog’s massive lungs filled Nila with anxiety. It reminded her that a giant super predator was inches away from her back.
The doors groaned in protest as the four tried to pull it open.
It would’ve been easier if the cult had placed the hinges on the inside. Then they could’ve pushed.
The doors opened a few inches.
Nila saw a thick, wooden beam above her head. They had a barricade bar.
A soft hum tickled Nila’s ears, while metal flashed in the corner of her eye.
The barricade bar suddenly split right in the middle.
The metal bars running from the bottom of the doors into the ground protested, but eventually bent under the super strength of four individuals.
The doors swung open to reveal a torch lit space that resembled a hotel front lobby if one was going for the haunted aesthetic.
Statues and carvings decorated the walls. Frescoes were on floor and ceiling.
Nila eye’s didn’t linger on them. The strange images felt wrong and unsettled her.
Besides she had other things to focus on.
Three cultists stood at the back of the large space, near another door.
One was an elderly man in a robe of deep blue and black.
The other two were dressed in rags and stared down at the floor with slumped shoulders.
“My name is David,” the elderly, robed cultist began with a smile.
“Where is the entrance to the tunnel?” Nila said.
“Just because the world changed doesn’t mean we descend into barbarity. Manners and class are still important. Then again your kind was always lacking in that regard,” David said.
Nila didn’t rise to the bait.
“We’re not playing around. Last chance,” Nila said.
The cultist gave her a smug smile. “That’s something we have in common. This is your last chance. Accept the Deep Azure into your lives and live in safety and peace.”
“Not interested, creeper,” Veronica said. She was ready to blast the man’s brain. The three cultists gave off a familiar vibe, but she couldn’t quite remember why.
Nila brandished her bat.
“Ungrateful. Your sort was always ungrateful for what this country gave you. Undeserving. You are all undeserving. Always have been,” David said. He laid a hand on each of the men by his sides and started chanting in a language that didn’t belong on their world.
Alexa screamed. “My sense is going off! Some kind of spell! Stop him!”
Too late.
The two men roared. They thrashed wildly, but the frail-looking David somehow kept his hold on their heads. He abruptly released them and quickly retreated into the door behind him.
The two men grew right before their eyes. Muscles bulged and split skin in some places. They pounded the floor in pain. The concrete shattered under now massive fists.
When they finally stood, they were over two feet taller than they had been and much thicker, more muscular.
“Oh— that’s where I recognized that feeling from,” Veronica said in a small voice.
“There’s two of them this time!” Johnny wailed.
Nila recognized them too. “Super Mutants.”
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Now, Threnosh World
Vanguard Zeljanz 31 emptied their micro missile pack at the flying corrupted swarm at maximum range. Their own speed meant that they had crossed half the distance when the missiles hit.
Bright orange explosions filled the sky next to Orchestral Meridian’s massive central tower.
Flying corrupted fell from the sky like dropped rocks, but plenty remained.
The vanguard banked and circled to the right as several flying corrupted peeled off from their dive on PJ15’s position on a tower landing platform to give chase.
The vanguard flew to the other side of the tower. As soon as they were out of line of sight from the flying corrupted they cut their thrusters and oriented their body as if they were standing straight up. They re-ignited their thrusters a second later and zoomed up just as the flying corrupted came flapping into view.
Vanguard Zeljanz 31 shot beams of concussive force from the palms of their gauntlets. The force doubled as additional flight thrust, but performed well enough as a weapon. Even if it the force dissipated at around fifty meters.
The beams battered the flying corrupted with great accuracy thanks to the targeting assist system. Where to aim and fire was fed directly into the vanguard’s faceplate. They just had to follow.
The vanguard soared up the side of the tower firing down as the flying corrupted tried to catch up.
The corrupted’s wing-powered flight was slow and ungainly compared to the vanguard’s.
Beams of concussive force broke their relatively frail bones. A trade-off. They needed to be light enough to fly under their own muscle power.
A shadow descend across the vanguard’s vision.
They looked up.
Another group of flying corrupted had somehow gained the altitude advantage over the vanguard. They struck with the sun behind them.
Claws struck the vanguard.
Their armor was thin and lightweight. Breaches appeared all over their body as the damage alert blared in their helmet.
The whirling ball of death plummeted toward the ground with Vanguard Zeljanz 31 at the center. The flying corrupted didn’t seem to care that they too were seconds away from splattering all over the street. They were content to rip and tear at the vanguard’s armor.
“Assistance inbound,” Vanguard Blazer Ecoria 70’s voice came in over the comms.
Beams of concussive force struck.
One after another a flying corrupted was blasted off to slam into the side of the tower or plummet to the ground.
Vanguard Zeljanz 31 suddenly found themselves clear with the ground rapidly approaching. It took precious seconds to right their tumble enough so that when they engaged their boot and gauntlet thrusters they shot up in a steady flight path away from the flying corrupted and the ground.
“Critical damage sustained. I am no longer combat effective. Returning to base,” Vanguard Zeljanz 31 said into the comms as they found the correct heading and zoomed away.
“Acknowledged,” Vanguard Blazer Ecoria 70 said to the other vanguard, who was rapidly shrinking in the distance. “Moving to assist PJ15.”
The vanguard ignited their thrusters and circled the tower until they were in sight of PJ15.
The Threnosh was the center of dozens of wildly flailing tendrils. As they fought of a swarm of flying corrupted.
The vanguard zoomed in and strafed the rear of the corrupted swarm. They succeed in knocking several out of the sky to send them plummeting to the ground or to the platform, where one of PJ15’s tendrils finished them.
The flying corrupted’s strength was in their numbers and the surprise of their appearance. Individually, they were fairly weak and easily damaged. Like the standard corrupted they seemed to feel no pain or know fear, since they continued to attack despite their losses.
However, with the vanguard’s aid, PJ15 was more than capable to destroying them all.
PJ15’s true concern was Mother Madrigal and the Inheritors.
The flying corrupted’s role had been to prevent PJ15 from escaping to contact the rest of their team.
They had failed.
The last of them died to PJ15’s tendrils when the two aerial transports from base camp flew into communications range.
PJ15 signaled with their location.
“Vanguard Blazer Ecoria 70, return to primary reloading facility. You are needed for air to ground support tasks,” Salamander’s voice crackled over the comms.
“Acknowledged,” Vanguard Blazer Ecoria 70 zoomed away without hesitation.
“PJ15,” Salamander continued, “you have Honor’s location?”
“Last known. Designation: Mother Madrigal pulled him down the main transport shaft connected to City Section 12.”
Salamander was familiar with Orchestral Meridian’s layout.
“Visual on corrupted,” the pilot’s voice broke in.
Salamander picked up the visual on their faceplate.
The corrupted thousands were swarming out of the very same shaft. It didn’t bode well for the city sections under their control. They were already facing multiple heavy corrupted assaults.
This swarm could reach them in hours at most especially with their frenzied pace. The things were tireless.
Salamander signaled the second aerial transport to land and disembark the one hundred tracked combat drones it carried. They had to slow the corrupted swarm as much as possible.
They then ordered the transport and the dozen aerial combat drones to commence strafing the corrupted with their projectile weapons until they ran out of ammunition. Their standing order was to then reload and continue to whittle away at the corrupted.
As for the transport they were on, Salamander had them fly close enough for PJ15 to latch on with a thin tendril and climbed aboard.
“I must recharge,” PJ15 said.
“You have limited time,” Salamander directed them to one of the vacant power armor berths.
PJ15 walked into the berth and tendrils extended from their power armor to all of the connector ports. Energy flooded their system. They noted that most of the other berths were empty. There were four other Threnosh in standard infantry power armor and unfamiliar looking weapons.
Salamander was the only other T-Men member.
“Will this be enough?” PJ15 said.
“It will have to be enough,” Frequency appeared at the door leading to the transport’s crew section. “Salamander, my sound is broadcasting at maximum capability. Emitter drones are dispersing over this entire area. Sublevels included. I can… hear… the discordant sound and from PJ15’s information I am certain that Designation: Mother Madrigal is the source.”
Salamander nodded.
“I can track the sound,” Frequency said.
“I defer to your judgment,” Salamander said.
“I will direct the pilot,” Frequency said. “But, I believe you will need me when we engage the target.”
“When we locate the target, we locate Honor. He will command,” Salamander said.
They were concerned for their teammate’s safety. Necessity dictated a woefully inadequate team composition. As a glass cannon, Frequency was vulnerable without a tank to draw attacks and provide shielding.
Three T-Men, plus four E.W.S. soldiers against an unknown number of corrupted, Inheritors and Mother Madrigal didn’t provide a high probability of success.
“Acknowledged. We just need to find Honor,” Frequency said before they went to confer with the pilot.
“Will that really be enough?” PJ15 said. They hadn’t shared their suspicions about Brightstrike’s death.
“Yes. If not, we fail our Tasks and die,” Salamander said.