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Spires
9.16

9.16

Howard and his team watched in real time as a masked slasher cut his way through a neighborhood.

The video from the surveillance drone was fleeting.

A second or two before the image turned into static, forcing a switch to another drone before it, too, failed.

Oddly, the drones weren’t being fried.

It was just that they couldn’t seem to record more than those few seconds.

Each individual drone was fine by the time they cycled back to it.

The endless loop made them feel like they were watching it through a strobe light or an animation missing a bunch of frames.

“Nothing on file,” Adrian, Black Cat, said.

By virtue of seniority, rather the lack thereof, he got the jobs no one else wanted or cared about.

“Looks like a Jason-type,” Dayana, Shootystabby, said. “See, he’s taking shots, but not enough blood splatter.”

“Not to mention they’re barely moving him. Those are .556 bullets?” Twice Clever Fox said.

“Some. Most are .223.” Howard saw enough of the AR’s the people were using to figure most were civilian versions. “Still impressive to take them without so much as flinching.”

“Or, you know, falling over,” Dayana said.

“Okay! Got him!” Willy, Wet, opened his eyes and shouted directions to Marian up in the cockpit.

“Listen up. This freak’s over Level 40, so expect bullshit Skills. I’ll go in first, try to draw some out. The rest of you keep your distance and take your shots, but watch out for opportunistic scavengers looking to sneak a bite or two. Remember, a bunch of red dots were all up in this whole area, eh.”

Indeed.

Slashers of varying levels had been transported in and immediately went to killing.

Opportunistic mercenary bands, marauders and their like were already laying siege to the luckier neighborhoods. The unlucky ones had already been breached. Whether by force or by the misfortune of the slashers spawning inside their walls and barricades.

It wasn’t all bad, judging by the sporadic updates flowing in from the Raynanaut as they collected information from all over the city through a variety of means.

The locals weren’t rolling over easy. They were scoring plenty of points themselves.

Vancouver airport was dark over the river to the south.

It had been an encounter challenge one of the main ones for the locals.

They had kept it under control, but that wasn’t going to last.

A problem for the future.

The shuttle zipped over the neighborhood.

“I’ve got eyes on him… Jesus fucking Christ! Uh… hurry! Kids upstairs!” Wet said.

Marian steadied the shuttle and opened the rear ramp.

Howard leapt out.

It wasn’t that far down and he needed to get there quick, so he didn’t use any of the slowing methods at his disposal.

He hit the ground and rolled, swiftly dashing into the home through the broken door.

The scent of iron filled the air, mingling with shit and piss.

The slasher was a big man clad in tattered workman’s clothes with a name tag stitched near his heart.

Dav— something.

The rest of it had been torn off by a bullet.

There wasn’t nearly enough blood for all the holes.

The slasher had a bloody machete in one hand and a bloody sleeping bag in the other.

Howard knew what was in there at a glance.

He drew his viral pistol and squeezed the trigger in one smooth motion.

The slasher beat him to the punch, clubbing him with the sleeping bag.

Viral rounds went astray, hitting the wall and dissolving huge holes instantly.

Machete flashed!

His pistol came apart halfway up the barrel.

The big bastard was stronger and faster than him.

He blocked the next slash with his arm.

Red-smeared steel screeched against dark gray Threnium.

He felt the bones in his arm crack.

Damn high-level Skills always messed things up.

Sometimes he wished he had them. All he had to rely on was his own muscles and grit.

A cybernetic thought opened up the tips of his gloves, revealing his claw-like fingernails. He slashed at the slasher’s blood-splattered hockey mask.

Shit should’ve been made of plastic, but it felt like iron.

The machete squealed against the side of his helmet.

Being short had helped him out there. Made it easy to dip and only take a glancing blow.

It was a fifty-fifty… had he been alone.

Shootystabby came in behind him, flickering like they had just watched, except much faster.

She shot, stabbed and cut all over the slasher’s body.

The big man was deceptively fast with his machete, but he looked like he was in slow motion next to her.

Again there was less blood than there should’ve been.

She withdrew only to be replaced by Twice Clever Fox.

The cultivator’s fists and feet were a blur as she landed pinpoint strikes to vital points on the slasher’s arms.

To Howard’s surprise the man held on to his weapons even forcing the cultivator into a desperate dance to avoid being cut and bludgeoned.

Speaking of dancing…

Tabitha, Dancessassin, chose that moment to emerge out a shadow on the wall behind the slasher.

The eyes of the panther-like head that was her hood flashed hungrily as she leapt at the slasher’s back. The hem of her inky black cloak split into long strips, ribbons with one of the monster’s claws stitched to the end. They moved with her strikes, flowing with her hands and arms as she stabbed and sliced with envenomed daggers made out of monster fangs.

She twirled away from the slasher’s back slash, sawing across his back and arm with her cloak’s claws before disappearing into the shadow on the wall.

The slasher slowed, dropping to one knee.

Howard wasn’t fooled.

The boss had warned them that a decently-leveled slasher wasn’t truly down unless you chopped them up into pieces. And even then you had to burn the body to make sure and had the right spells in place to put a stop to any spirit shenanigans.

Seemed like bullshit to him, but just because he had never seen it happen didn’t mean that it didn’t or couldn’t in the future.

That was the sort of world they lived in.

Sometimes, he was sorta glad that the memories from before the spires were starting to fade. They made him sad.

Shootystabby stabbed her long knife into the slasher’s shadow on the carpet and kept it there. “He’s not moving for awhile.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. He’s not high level enough to just brute force me on this. If he’s got just the right Skill…” she shrugged.

“Black Cat? Status?”

“Secured upstairs. Minor injuries.” The young man’s voice came in over the comms with only a slight crackle.

Whatever the spires had done to seal the city was also messing with their comms. Proximity helped.

“Stay posted.” Howard drew a sawed-off elephant gun from his bag of holding.

He could’ve gotten something high-tech from the Threnosh or had a custom made gun like the boss’, but he liked the idea of a sawed-off elephant gun.

The slasher’s mask… and face didn’t stand up to the shot.

“Alright, Shootystabby and Dancessassin, guard the people with Black Cat. Fox, watch my back while I take care of this bastard. Wet, try to get in contact with Sparky and the boss. Update them and tell them this neighborhood probably needs protection.”

The slasher had left a lot of bodies out on the street and in at least five houses.

“I’ll try, but the comms are shaky. I’ll switch to magic if I can’t,” Wet said.

“Do what you can.”

Howard picked the slasher’s machete off the bloody carpet.

“There is a person inside that,” Twice Clever Fox pointed to the sleeping bag oozing red.

“It’s a slasher thing.” He set to hacking limbs and what was left of the head. “Knives, machetes, axes, chainsaws… that’s how it was in movies, so…”

“I’m glad I never watched those movies.”

“It was fine for dumb fun and getting girls to jump in your lap. Not so much in real life, eh.”

He tossed the parts out into the front yard, covered them with gasoline from one of his bags of holding and set them on fire.

“May you burn into nothing you murdering bastard, forever forgotten.”

“The spirits of his victims will know peace now that they have been avenged.”

“We need to do better. Avenging don’t exactly leave a good taste in my mouth. Much rather pre-venge.”

He brought up the live map in his HUD and cursed.

“Yes. Our plan to respond quickly to the worst murderers won’t work if we don’t know where they are,” Twice Clever Fox said. “Perhaps, I—”

“Oh no. That’s the first rule. No splitting up. You’re good, but can you guarantee one of them won’t get lucky and get you? You’re worth a lot of points. That might be enough to give whoever gets you the boost they need and make them all that much harder to take out.”

“You’re the leader.” Twice Clever Fox bowed.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m kinda feeling that urge too.”

The feral instincts in him wanted to go out into the gray jungle among the other hunters. To claim his territory. Team tactics be damned.

But he was a man, not an animal.

The difference was that he could shut those instincts up.

Tigers might’ve ruled the jungles, but it was man that had almost made all of them extinct.

“Hey, uh, can’t get a hold of Sparky’s team, but the Raynanaut is on her way,” Wet said through the comms.

“Alright team, back to the shuttle.”

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

Hayden and Prim strode out of Shangri-La.

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Not the mythical hidden place in the Kunlun Mountains where martial artists could get fists like unto steel by beating up a Chinese unicorn and rubbing their hands on its horn, but the high-rise tower in Vancouver.

The former wasn’t real… probably… while the latter was and full of selfish assholes.

Oh, they were more than happy to accept the team’s protection, but only for the tower. Not for everyone else outside.

Hayden muttered darkly.

Ms. Teacher healed them up and recharged them physically with her secret magics, but couldn’t do much for the psychological and emotional damage from what had gone down in those mines.

Shit had been almost as bad as those worm parasites. The only difference was she hadn’t been in charge on that Quest like she had been for the mines. 50 went in following her commands.

Only a little over half had come out.

“We’ll start planning a defense once we get a lay of the land,” Prim said.

She grunted an affirmative as they pushed past the guards manning the fence that extended into the street.

The tower looked to be enclosed, but it wasn’t a fixed wall, more like those temporary anti-riot fences, a few steps above chain-linked, but a whole lot of steps below dedicated walls of earth, stone and metal. There were guard towers at the corners, but they wouldn’t hold up to a real assault.

“Monsters are going to hurt more than help,” Prim continued. “They’ll mess with the wannabe slashers, but the real ones will use the chaos to slip in and do their killings. We need intel on their preferred victims. Comms are still hit or miss. It’s looking like the interference is a permanent feature.”

The headed north, crossing an empty street.

They could see some people staring down at them from windows in the tall buildings.

Some of the team waited in front of a building across from Shangri-La Tower.

A tourism office judging by the sign.

Hayden recognized the name of the old country, although she had no conception on where it was in the world.

Probably somewhere in Asia going by the name.

She had brought 12 including her and Prim.

Three were Rayna’s Rangers. Part of stripped down squad. Volunteers. The rest had remained at Ms. Teacher’s town to wait for transport.

Monsignor, Chandra and Sakura.

All high level and competent fighters.

The latter was absent on a scouting mission.

Just like the fat, drunk cultivator.

The Tsingtao Wanderer irked Hayden.

Rationally, she understood that the drunker he was the better fighter he was. However, it bothered her on an irrational level.

She loved Doomborer, not withstanding the name sounding like it came from the edgy imagination of a 12 year old boy with aspirations of heroic adventure.

The Threnosh was competent, professional and didn’t have an ego. They were happy to follow orders to the utmost of their ability.

She was less fond of Rand.

The wizard acted several years younger than his actual late 20’s age.

She had known him since Ms. Teacher had started loaning her students out to Cal’s teams.

Honestly, out of all the wizards she had worked with over the years, he had been the most annoying. Always trying to impress her like a little puppy.

What she could wave off from a kid she couldn’t from a full-grown man.

The smug look on his face was asking to be wiped off.

He was way too proud for something he hadn’t had a hand in.

Ms. Teacher was the one that had teleported them across thousands of miles without leaving them with so much as a hint of nausea.

Rand had explained just how impossible that had been without portal stones or any guides whatsoever. Something about Ms. Teacher having to account for the rotation of the planet, relative velocities, elevation and dozens of other variables. The power to pull something like that was already astronomical, but to do it without teleporting them a hundred feet in the sky or in the dirt or inside a tree…

Had she known all those details beforehand she wouldn’t have allowed any of the others to go with her.

One of the other wizard kids would’ve explained it all without the smug, self-satisfaction.

Honestly, it would be like her taking pride in the crazy shit Cal pulled off.

Bolder Akinfenwa was only a few years younger than Rand, but infinitely more mature. It might’ve had something to do with his early life somewhere in North Africa. He was quiet, competent and brave. Not afraid to freelance and wise enough to understand when he had to. His earth magic along with Doomborer’s power armor had been clutch down in those old coal mines.

Ibra was only a few years older than her in his mid 40’s, but the scars on his face told a tale of pain and suffering to rival her own. Sometimes she was ashamed that her gifts allowed her to bear the weight of time and experiences better than others, at least from a physical appearance standpoint.

Regardless, Ibra was a deadly warrior with his weapons and armor made out of a manticore’s parts. The man was committed to the cause. To bear those weights so that those that come after him won’t have to.

She put the last two last because of their age and how she viewed the boy— the young man. Not because of their strength. Though they were the two lowest leveled in her team.

Teresa was short a couple of years to be technically an adult. She would’ve never been allowed to go on this Quest nor the one in the mines had Ms. Teacher not insisted.

Rules were rules until an ultra powerful ally asked— told you to break them.

Still, the girl was a competent ice wizard. She also followed orders. A bit too exact, but Hayden had worked on that a bit down in the mines.

Plus, Teresa’s spells and Skills had great synergy with the last member of Hayden’s team.

Last but not least, and not at all had he not done so well done in the depths, was Galen.

The boy— young man had gotten through a hell of a first real Quest a few years back and emerged stronger in levels and mentality.

He had worked too hard and shown too much promise for them to leave him guarding a fort or a resort hotel and casino with the Golden Eagles.

Ledge had hated losing Galen, but that was the price of close ties with Cal’s operation.

Ms. Daniels was definitely going to be pissed at her the next time Galen visited the orphanage and shared what he had been up to.

Hayden stepped into her power armor before starting the briefing while they waited for their scouts to return.

“So… they suck.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder toward the tower. “There isn’t going to be any coordinating.”

“It’s going to take too long to go and try to do the same with all the separate buildings and neighborhoods,” Prim said.

“Wait?” Galen raised a hand. “I thought most of this area was under their control.”

“Yep, but they’re washing their hands of them. They weren’t too happy about the rangers ferrying people outside the tower across the river instead of them.”

“How many Earthians remain in the outlying structures?” Doomborer said.

“Unknown at this time. Still waiting, hoping that our message to the Raynanaut went through. Same with Howard’s team,” Prim said. “Rand, any luck with that?”

“Sorry, I tried the whole time you guys were in there.” He scowled. “Couldn’t reach Willy. Spires bullshit.” He shrugged. “I’ll try again after this unless you have something else for me to do?” he grinned.

Hayden ignored it.

It wasn’t nearly as charming as he thought.

Sakura appeared out of nowhere in a puff of white smoke.

Tsingtao Wanderer leapt down from the tourism building’s roof in a flutter of dark, stained robes and the jiggling of a beer gut.

The man had what some called a power belly to go along with his stout, broad frame.

He was big and fat, yet as quick as a cobra and as graceful as a ballerina despite it.

The cultivator looked to be operating at a buzz-level.

Irksome to Hayden, but tactically sound since it kept him close to drunk.

“Individual buildings are barricading,” Sakura said.

“As are the neighborhoods to the south and west,” Tsingtao Wanderer said.

Sakura gazed up at the tower on the other side of the street. “They’ve abandoned their positions on the streets. Some of the tower’s fighters are staying at their posts and coordinating with the people nearby, but not nearly enough of them are. The people are under-leveled. Most won’t last long if, when one of the larger groups decides to attack them.”

“The piecemeal nature of their defense is like a fisherman’s net with many holes,” Tsingtao Wanderer said.

“Composition of the remaining people?”

“Mostly men, young to old. Some women. I didn’t see a lot of children,” Sakura said.

Tsingtao Wanderer inclined his head to Prim and the other rangers. “Your flying ship is to thank for that small mercy.

“Did you mark Level 40 and over?”

“Not in combat classes. They’re all guarding that.” Tsingtao Wanderer spat toward the tower.

“The people can’t be protected like this,” Ibra said. “I’ve seen it. Predators drive their prey apart to single out the weakest.”

“A herd surrounds their old and young, presenting their horns to the lions. Like you said, it is when they scatter that the lions feast,” Bolder said.

“Not all slashers are the same. Some prefer strong targets,” Monsignor said.

“Then we should do what the other team is doing. Attack the slashers first. Offense beats defense,” Rand said.

“Our priority is to protect those that need it,” Monsignor said.

The old woman clutched the plain steel crucifix around her neck. Her calm gaze bored into Rand’s cocky eyes.

He shrugged.

“I’m just saying if we can’t guard everyone since they’re so scattered then the next best thing is to remove the reasons they need guarding in the first place.”

“I saw a couple of parks with my wizard eyes a little bit to the north. They’re between a harbor and a port? At least that’s what the signs said. Maybe we could build a fort and keep the people safe there if one of the big towers doesn’t want to shelter them?” Teresa looked to Bolder, Galen and Rand. “If we can combine our magic I believe it won’t be too taxing on our mana to raise earth walls and reinforce them with ice. The temperature is still cool enough that it won’t melt too fast.”

“Monsters in the water,” Rand said. “We’ve be under siege from both sides.”

“It’s a good idea, but what if the people won’t want to listen?” Galen said. “I wouldn’t if I was in their shoes. I’d trust myself and the people I know over a bunch of randoms that showed up out of nowhere.”

“Our names are on the anti-slasher side,” Teresa pointed out.

“Scared people don’t think rationally,” Prim said. “But I like that idea… if we can reach the Raynanaut and get them to sit right over us…”

Hayden saw what Prim did.

Slashers forced to come to them and be blown away by superior firepower.

“Alright, this is what we’ll do for now. We’ll stay together. Try the other big buildings. See if they want to be human or not. While you,” she nodded at the Rand and Teresa, “keep trying to reach Howard’s team and the Raynanaut. I want a safe place we can use as a base. It’ll be a bonus that it’s mobile and full of weapons. If that doesn’t work then I’ll have you put on a light show to attract their attention. If that still doesn’t work then we’ll have to find one of the surveillance drones to shout at. With any luck all the slashers and other assholes out there are going to play it cautious for the first few hours.”

“The first meerkat to stick its head out of the burrow is the first to be carried away by the eagle,” Bolder said.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought of.”

That wasn’t what Hayden thought of.

Since when did cat’s live underground?

Must’ve been different type of cat from another world or maybe it was a monster.

She couldn’t remember seeing the name in the monsterpedia.

“It’s a rough plan, so… anyone suggestions? Mods?”

Tsingtao Wanderer opened his mouth then closed it.

She didn’t know if he had been about to say something or had just let out a silent burp.

Regardless, they had a plan if not specific enough to her liking.

At least they had an hour or two before the real bloodshed started.

Alas, she would be proved wrong.

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

Billie was a little girl.

She was 4 years old, but closer to 5.

That seemed important.

Definitely, big girl territory, which meant her brothers would have to let her play their games with them.

‘Billie’ was short for her real name, which her dad and mom only called her when she was being naughty. She didn’t like that name. It was too hard to spell with all its letters.

Although… she wouldn’t have minded if it meant her mom could come back from heaven.

She wondered what that place was like.

Dad told her, but it didn’t sound like he really knew. And how could he since he had never been. None of her uncles and aunts and cousins had either. So, it sorta didn’t make sense when they told her how great it was and how great it was that her mom was up there.

Billie pictured her mom living in a house made of clothes as she cowered underneath her bed.

She didn’t really get it.

Something about a world event and how dangerous it was going to be.

She got most of her information by sneaking underneath the table and listening to the grown ups talk.

That’s where she had been when the whole apartment building shook and the sharp pops and loud bangs started.

Guns and spells.

She knew them well. So, she did as she practiced and curled up into a ball on the floor as the adults sprang from the table.

Some had gone outside the apartment. The rest had barricaded the door like they had practiced.

Tom, her second oldest brother, had reached down to coax her out from under the table to pick her up in his strong arms.

“It’s going to be okay,” he had whispered.

A lie.

Because the door had opened despite having been locked and barred.

The adults pointed weapons and hands with spells on the tips of their fingers, but Billie had seen nothing in the doorway.

She had heard plenty though. Lots of pops and bangs sounding awfully close.

She remembered how she had put her fingers in her ears when she heard people shouting and screaming. She had started crying right then. It had been too much like the day mom—

Tom had soothed her and started down the hall to carry her to her room when she had seen him.

It had been the briefest of glances because Tom had shouted and had started blasting away with bright lights from his free hand

The other adults joined in a split-second later while Tom retreated with her in his arms into the hall.

It had been a short, fat clown.

He hadn’t looked scary. The paint on his face was colorful and happy. His clown costume was vibrant, popping with color like those cartoons she loved to watch.

He had waved a white-gloved hand with bulbous fingers at her and winked.

Tom had only spent long enough to thrust her favorite stuffed animal in her arms, kiss her on the head and push her underneath her bed before rushing back outside and slamming the door behind him.

She clutched Ratatos, her stuffed squirrel that her oldest brother had gotten her for her last birthday.

Out in the living room Reg cursed, then screamed, then fell silent.

She had been wondering what he was going to get her for her next one.

The noise just outside her room peaked like the best part of the fireworks shows the building did every new year.

Then she heard nothing for what felt like the longest time.

The silence was broken by a heavy step and soft, happy music that seemed to come from all around her.

It had always been there, she realized, just beneath all the guns and spells and adults shouting and screaming.

Another step, then another and another accompanied by the sound of something heavy being dragged across the carpet.

Her door opened with a long, drawn out squeal.

Reg had always said to leave it like that so they could hear it just in case a monster or bad man was trying to sneak in. Then they could come save her.

But they were gone, weren’t they?

Big shiny, red clown shoes came into view.

They looked extra shiny and wet.

And there was something next to them.

It was pale, like the color of chocolate milk when they were almost out of powder and were trying to make it last. She saw knuckles dragging on the carpet and dirty claws wet with red.

She screamed as the twisted hang flipped her bed over like it weighed nothing.

She squeezed her eyes shut and embraced Ratatos with all the strength her little arms could muster.

She hoped heaven was nice.

Little Billie was a girl. 4 years old going on a 5 that she’d never reach.