The shrill of a cellphone alarm going off had both of them practically jumping in their seats.
The pair turned to watch Allister casually pull a cell phone from his pocket where he’d been conversing with Huda in hushed tones near the entrance.
His eyes snapped up to Leta before looking back at his phone. He huffed as he slipped the device back into his pocket before calling, “Leta, you’re needed in the War Room. Ismene’s awake and wants to talk to you.”
Leta rose from the table with a furrowed brow. “Who?”
“A Priestess.” Vigo added, “Huda told me about her when she showed me the Job Book. She’s sort of an oracle and sees the future, but her visions force her into a constant sleep state.”
“Tragic.” Leta mused as she pulled off her gloves. She said her goodbyes as the red-haired giant ushered Leta forward and out of the room.
“We should probably see about getting you a phone.” Allister looked like he was mentally adding to his ever-growing list of things to do. “I’ll speak with Yelana about that.”
“That would be appreciated.”
“Don’t get too excited now. Mine and Atreus’s phones are special, but everyone else in the Sect has old model cellphones.”
Leta frowned. “Are we talking carrier pigeons or something like a Blackberry?”
“More along the lines of Blackberry. You’ll not be watching MTV or dancing on that clock app any time soon.”
‘Who watches MTV anymore?’ Leta thought to herself as Allister opened the doors to the War Room.
Inside, Leta saw that the large double doors on the other side of the room were open just enough to spot a cacophony of stained glass and the edge of a four-poster bed beyond the threshold.
Just outside the door was a woman with yellow runes glowing under her mocha-colored skin sitting in a chair, her breathing heavy and her golden eyes half-lidded as if struggling to stay conscious.
Dr. Kudela knelt next to her and was in the process of patting an alcohol swab over her arm before taking a syringe and pressing down on the plunger.
As the liquid in the barrel emptied into her, the woman’s eyes lifted to reveal irises of swirling gold with no discernible pupil, as if all she could see was the molten sun.
Dr. Kudela saw Leta’s surprised look and quickly stated, “Adrenaline shot. It’ll help her stay conscious.”
The golden-eyed woman looked up to Leta with a tired half-smile. “Hey, doll. Sorry to meet under such crappy circumstances, but I promise we’re going to get along great.”
Leta blinked at hearing another American accent and opened her mouth to say something when the Priestess interrupted.
“Temple Terrace. It’s basically Tampa. Lost of Scientology wackos, but our hockey team is mostly stellar if only our guys can stop screwing around.”
“Uh.” Leta looked at Dr. Kudela with some confusion, who just shook her head with a sigh.
“Leta, this is Ismene the Priestess.” She gestured to the golden-eyed woman, “Ismene, this is Oletta the Crown.”
Ismene rolled her eyes. “You were going to ask me where I was from. I was answering. Then you were going to tell me you’re from Seattle, but then tell me that you actually live in Bellevue. People think Bellevue is just part of Seattle because it’s basically next door, so you say you’re from there.”
Leta’s mouth dropped in shock.
Holy shit, she was right.
“How-?”
“Priests and Priestesses see the future, among other things. Trust me, it’s not a fun superpower to have.” Ismene groaned, wincing as Dr. Kudela gave her a shot of something that burned under her skin and caused her glowing runes to shine even brighter.
“That should keep you up for a few hours.” The Healer noted as she placed a band-aid over the injection site and gave the Priestess a pat on the back. “I’ll get some coffee and give you two some privacy.”
Nodding farewell to Leta, Dr. Kudela exited the war room, leaving the two women alone. The silence was perforated only by the quiet hum of computers and the hologram table.
Finally, Ismene seemed to gather some courage as she took a deep breath and nearly shouted in a rushed voice, “Nanites!”
The woman flinched, her eyes shut tight as if waiting for something terrible to happen. When nothing did, she opened one glowing eye and patted herself down to ensure she was solid.
“Holy crap, it’s true.”
Wide-eyed in shock and confusion, Leta questioned, “What? How do you know about Nanites?”
Ismene didn’t hear her as a broad smile stretched over her lips. She threw one fist in the air with a whoop, grinning like a mad woman. “It works! Oh my gosh, this changes everything.”
When she finally caught Leta giving her a raised eyebrow, she sheepishly ran a hand through her tight black curls. “Sorry, I knew it would work from my visions, but there’s always a difference between knowing it and actually doing it.”
“What were you expecting to happen?” Leta asked at the woman’s unmistakable giddiness.
“If it was anyone else but you, I’d probably be turned inside out or burst into flames or some other kind of nasty end. But it’s you, so I didn’t. So, yay!”
Leta pinched the bridge of her nose, “Yeah, that just leaves me with more questions than answers.”
“Unfortunately, we Priests tend to have that effect on people.” Ismene chuckled, “Maybe we should start with the obvious questions, yeah? So, I know about the Nanites, the Atlantians, and all that jazz because I’m a Priestess. Our class was designed to be the liaison between the Atlantians and the rest of the classes. While the other Classes were going around worshiping them because they thought they were gods, we were allowed to know the truth since we were their right-hand man.”
“That’s…cool.” Leta mused.
“Right? Now, they told you about the rules, right? The ‘Golden Rule’ of don’t let normal people know?”
At Leta’s nod, she continued, “So, when the Atlantians went ’bye bye’, they put a fail-safe into everyone’s Nanites. You talk about Nanites or show your powers to a cognizant human in complete control of their thoughts and ability to observe? Poof!” She made an explosion gesture with her hands. “You’re dead. Even now that they’ve been gone for thousands of years, if you’ve got an active system, that fail-safe is still in action.”
“Right, but obviously that’s not always the case cause-”
“Afra was able to use her abilities in front of your parents, whose systems were 100% not active at all, yeah.” Ismene’shead bobbed, “Oh, crap. Sorry. I was supposed to let you finish.”
“I’m just…” Leta sighed, “I’m just going to need some time to process this.”
“How long do you need? Cause I’ve got other things to blow your mind with, and I’m on a time crunch.” Ismene looked at her bare wrist as if she were looking at a watch.
Her voice picked up speed as she talked as if you could see the medication and whatever else had been pumped into her kicking in. “I’ve got to get you up to speed on the whole truth of what the actual fuck is going on, give you some advice on what to do next, then I’ve got to go give some prophecies, also known as ‘cheat sheets,’ to the rest of the team. And I’ve only got a few more hours to do it before my stats catch up with me, and they put me under again.”
“Oh my god,” Leta grumbled, running her hands over her face as about a million questions ran through her head.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Want me to give you my shpeel and go from there?” Ismene asked almost reluctantly, like someone trying to give bad news to an already upset boss.
Leta exhaled, “Sure, why the heck not.”
“Awesome! If that’s cool with you, I will start with our immediate issues and work my way up to some of the more Earth-shattering revelations. First, the fail-safe on all of us can be broken under super-specific conditions. The first one is that you, Leta Black, break the rule first. Don’t ask me why - I haven’t gotten that part yet. Condition number two, someone else breaks the rule in your presence after they have observed you breaking the rules first.”
Leta thought back, remembering the time in the hospital when Afra had been shocked that she hadn’t been killed when she used her flames in front of Thomas and Naomi. Before everything went down, Leta had used her Persuasion ability to make her parents quiet.
“Why, you might ask?” Ismene prompted before she even had a chance to ask a question, “Because you’re the Monarch and stupidly important. Now, on to the next issue. Trust me, you’ll like this: your dad will wake up later today.”
Leta stiffened at the news, her heart somersaulting in her chest as hope and disperse elbowed each other to be first in her mind.
“Is he going to be okay?” The thought of her father’s condition had her mind in a visceral grip.
“For now, yes.” Ismene confirmed, “What’s happening in him is that the corrupted Nanites system is trying to overtake your father’s dormant system. Thankfully, even though his system is down, the Nanites can tell when something is corrupt and have fortified themselves to resist. However, that fortification won’t last.”
Ismene stood and started pacing as she continued her explanation, her quick strides and fast speech closer to a toddler hopped up on candy and soda pop.
“Now, he won’t become a Loupgarou - that system is already corrupted and unable to duplicate itself. What will happen is that eventually, his system will be put under so much stress that it will activate, and because the Nanites have been weakened, they’ll activate as a corrupted system, which leads to a Wendigo.”
Leta’s eyes lowered to the ground, her suddenly rising home crashing, “So he’s going to turn into something awful.”
“Possibly. Well, I guess this leads me to another topic. I don’t necessarily see the future. I see the most likely possibilities in a situation.”
She tapped at her temple with one long finger and a slightly manic smile, “Every person I meet or meets someone I meet creates a connection to me - an infinite spiderweb of chance and luck. What my Nanites are doing behind the scenes is akin to skimming the frequency. They’re monitoring everyone on that web and calculating the most probable actions based on the echos from their Nanites.”
Leta pursed her lips at that. She didn’t necessarily like the idea that someone could monitor her every move without her consent. It was one thing to have her data being collected by the government - she still wanted to see the look on some poor CIA intern’s face when he went through her nerdy browser history - but it was another to be face-to-face with the person who was doing the monitoring.
Ismene waved her hand in front of her with a crinkled nose. “Don’t worry. My little semi-mortal brain can barely handle getting a compliment, let alone all that info, so even though I’m not consciously looking through the web, my Nanites are running in the background. Basically, my poor laptop’s been running and hasn’t been shut off or restarted, so it’s constantly crashing. Hence, I’m asleep more than I’m awake and need meds to keep me upright.”
“Geez, that sucks,” Leta remembered Gada had told her about what could happen if someone’s constitution was too high and they became prisoners in their own bodies. It sounded like Ismene’s Mental Fortitude was disproportionately high, affecting the Priestess’s ability to function.
Ismene shrugged, “It is what it is. Anyway, back to your dad. While most of the visions I have show the most likely outcome of someone’s choices, I do see other possibilities and variables that could happen. In a lot of the visions, yes, your dad does become a raging cannibal. However, the most probable outcome right now is that Dr. Kudela can help your dad manage it by helping his body fortify his system against the corruption. If things stay on the correct course, he’ll live a long, not exactly normal life.”
Leta’s breath came out of her in a shaky gush, and her knees suddenly felt weak.
Ismene grabbed her elbow and helped gently lower her into a nearby computer chair.
A well of emotions felt like it blew its lid inside her as she took several breaths. She wanted to laugh with relief and cry with worry all at once.
The Priestess gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. “It’s not absolute. The future is never 100% certain. But right now, if you stick the course, it’s a pretty good bet.”
Leta looked at the woman, her eyes taking in the Priestess’s youthful features and kind smile.
“What course?” She asked almost hesitantly, as if she was afraid just saying the wrong thing would destroy a future where her father lived peacefully.
Ismene beamed, “You’re already on. You made the first step when you asked Atreus to take you in.”
Her head perked up, and she looked around the room, “Infinite possibilities and these stupid visions don’t tell me where a goddamn pen and paper is.” She grumbled to herself before spotting a notepad and pen jar next to one of the far computer stations.
Leta watched the Priestess get up and walk over to it. “What’s the second step?”
“The second step, “Ismene paused as she rummaged through the cup till she found a green gel pen with an outlandish teddy bear on the cap that looked so out of place against all the weapons and sophisticated computers, “Is to get you prepared. Again, you are stupidly important. We need you to stay alive and, you know, make sure your head stays attached to your neck and all that.”
She picked up the paper pad and scribbled down the words ‘Leta’s To Do List.’
“To start, you need to put those inert Nanites you absorbed to good use. My recommendation is to get the ports and Summon Nanites. Yes, it’s basically useless once installed because you’ll be out of Nanites, but that won’t last long. One of the things on Atreus’s to-do list will be bringing back the Loupgarou bodies for you to mummify.”
Leta’s eyebrows went up. The monsters she’d siphoned from yesterday had yielded such a large number of inert Nanites she’d have been an idiot not to connect the dots. Monster corpses equal free upgrades.
“Nope.” Ismene chirped distractedly as she started to write something, then quickly scribbled it out. “Nope. Nope. Nope. Oh! Yeah, don’t get comfy with this gig of free meal delivery. This is an extremely temporary setup, so enjoy it while it lasts.” Her head picked up, and she looked at the ceiling with a confused expression as if she were trying to remember something as she mumbled. “What came after that? Oh, yeah.”
Returning to her scribbling, she continued, “The issue you’ve got right now is you’re heckin’ strong but have little defense. Those nanites you’ve got are all jacked up on Mountain Dew and heal you insanely fast, even for a Chosen, but you don’t want to rely on them to patch you up when you’re in the thick of it. Plus, your Persuasion just upgraded to Command. That ability packs a serious punch, but the recoil you get can damage you if you’re not careful. You can’t rely on telling your enemies to ‘Freeze’ because that will trip you up until your stats get boosted.”
Crossing her arms, Leta leaned back in her seat as she thought about it. “I realized that. So what are your probabilities suggesting?”
“For now, focus on getting enough Nanites to create armor and defend yourself. As you’ve observed, your stats will increase as you hone your skills.
“Plus, you don’t want to dump all your nanites into your stats all at once; your body will tear itself apart trying to make those adjustments.” Ismene gave Leta a ‘don’t try it’ stare, “Trust me, it’s gross. Your muscles start trying to expand, but there’s not enough pass for them to compensate. Your skin tears apart as you start bleeding from your ears because you’re experiencing a massive stroke and brain bleed as your gray matter is turning itself into soup to improve itself. It’s nasty. Don’t do it. That little system stayed hidden under the ocean for thousands of years. Don’t screw everything up on day three of being special.”
Leta swallowed down bile as the visual Ismene painted made her feel sick. “You know, I was wondering how that switch and trap door managed to stay functional after being buried for so long…”
Ismene turned in her pacing to give her a cheesy smile as she put her hands up before saying, “Aliens.” Laughing to herself, she turned back to her writing, “Just kidding. Not really. It actually was aliens. But anyway, the metal was holding the trap door up, and the switch mechanism was Chosen-made. If you get a Blacksmith and an Alchemist in the same room using their abilities to bed metal and chemicals, you can get an alloy that can survive being buried in salt mud for thousands of years and still work.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t distract me! My brain has got too many tabs open to think straight as it is. Now, don’t be stupid and dump your points to Arnold Schwarzenegger-ify your nanites. Invest in the ports and the Summon Nanites skill. With me so far?”
Leta nodded as she watched Ismene pace back and forth like a ping-pong ball.
“After that, you need to hit the gym. You got the Basic Hand to Hand skill from getting thrown around earlier but you need to learn how to defend yourself. Missile launchers. Swords. Nunchucks. A spork. Anything that could be a weapon, you need to master it. Also, you need a Blade.”
“I thought I could just borrow one of those?” Leta thumbed over her shoulder to the weapons rack, where one wall was dedicated to displaying swords and daggers of various cultures and periods.
“Cute, but no. You need an Atlantian Blade like what Koa has. Atlantian Blades aren’t going to break, and since they’re made out of Atlanite and, well, you’re the Monarch. Unlike everyone else whose Atlantian Blade can only take one shape, your command over Nanites means you can change your Blade’s form to whatever you need.”
Leta nodded along, impressed. “That sounds cool, but I’m pretty sure I can’t just go to the corner shop and find one.”
“You’d be surprised.” Ismene gave her a knowing look that was frighteningly feline in its mischief.
“What?” Leta’s eyes narrowed at the Priestess as she drew the word out slowly.
With an evil chuckle, Ismene sat in another computer chair and gave her a mischievous grin, “Leta, doll, when you sprang that trap door, what was done there?”
She paused to think, memories of a traumatic time flitting through her brain like an old camera reel.
Coins.
Cuneiform tablets.
The Atlanite contraption that had given her the system.
And a long barnacle-encrusted object…
Leta’s eyes shot up to the knowing look on Ismene’s face as her heart skipped a beat. “No…”
“Yes, indeed, doll!” Ismene cackled, “Now, what is the probability of that? Statistically, it’s impossible, but hey! Crazier things have happened in the last twenty-four hours.”
“I mean, how?-”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to. Just say ‘thanks, dead person’ and accept the probability of fate for what it is.”
Leta ran a hand through her blonde hair, her cheeks inflating as she let out a surprised breath.
“Well, that’s helpful. Wait, aren’t the Chosen and Blessed currently at war over the dig site? It must be long gone by now.”
“Nope.” Ismene giggled, putting her pen and paper down to pull out a cell phone from what looked like thin air and began texting someone. “We got it and the tablets. However, it is under lock and key by Simon, and wouldn’t you know it? They don’t give the person who sees the future the password. Weird.”