Fun Fact: Treated Arcani, in the form of potions and antidotes, are normally used to heal sickness and injuries. Unfortunately, there are some illnesses or curses that are so severe that the patient requires continual arcani from another live human. However, there are risks in doing so as the giver of the arcani must not have been cursed himself.
----------------------------------------
A plethora of computer screens placed on the walls flashed busily. People rapidly prodded the tiny keys on their keyboard while others scrolled the crystal balls, shifting their gaze back and forth between different monitors. Parchments were sprawled sloppily while pens lay unnoticed on the ground.
“Sir, an unknown object just breached our field!”
“Shields?” the general asked.
“Negative, sir. Target deployed a shield nullifier. Comms contact non-responsive as well. Should we ID it?”
“No need. There’s only one type of airship capable of doing all that. It’s an unmanned bomber.” The general looked at the President, who had closed his eyes and folded his arms. “Mister President?”
“Fire.”
Vulcan watched the small dot on the computer screen catch up to the moving red object. They collided, and both objects vanished anticlimactically. Cheers erupted around him, but his attention quickly turned back to another screen.
C’mon guys, I already bought you some time. We need to end this quickly.
“Druid Pluto?” he asked. The researcher shook his head grimly. Warlock Vulcan clenched his fists. What was he doing in this comfortable control room when he should be fighting alongside his Guardians?
His face creased with worry. What if they didn’t make it? What if the abominations were too much for them to handle? Oh gods, not again… What if Kleo and Cybele were killed in-
He shook his head, as if trying to fling those thoughts out. His daughters had proved themselves more than capable of handling themselves time and time again. He had to have faith in them; they were still relying on him to hold the fort.
“Warlock Vulcan!” Pluto’s voice called him back to the present. “The… The fog is clearing out! B-by the gods… we’re clean.”
Vulcan flicked his head at the screen, watching the black spiral rapidly disperse and give way to the familiar purple colour. The entire control room held their breath, almost not daring to believe their eyes.
And then the President raised a finger to the air.
“Prestidigitation.”
The murmuring in the room quickly turned into shouts of joy as the scent of freshly cut grass wafted through the air. Sparks burst from the mages’ fingers, flowers bloomed around the room, and healing waves rippled through the air as the magis relished in their long-lost powers once more.
They did it. They actually managed to pull it off-
A klaxon blared without warning, filling the room with flashing red light. The control room operators ceased their celebration and turned back to their screens immediately. Vulcan’s eyes widened in realisation as he watched a larger object enter the far south of the country. That bomber was just a decoy. This was the real payload.
He pulled out his UWA phone while the people around him scrambled into action, desperately searching for the nearest ground to air missile.
“Ceasefire! Ceasefire immediately!” The King of Hydrus City was already yelling in the line when Vulcan entered the call, but there was no response.
His eyes shifted to the rapidly approaching missile on the screen as his phone slipped from his grasp, crashing onto the ground.
It was too late.
“Lord Vulcan, help us all.”
----------------------------------------
“Well done, Guardians. Let’s get out of this freezing place.” Exhaustion coated Cybele’s voice as she materialised her staff, conjuring her familiar. “Dappie. Call Dad for me, will you?”
The arcane chicken clucked a few times in response, before transforming into a swirling mass of arcani. It turned back into its original form after a few seconds and hopped around. Cybele knelt down beside it.
“What’s the matter, can’t reach him?”
Her familiar clucked again as if in affirmative, and the woman stood back up with a deep frown on her face.
“Warlock Vulcan’s not available?” Felix asked. “That’s odd. I’d have thought he would be eager to hear from us.”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
An air raid siren blasted without warning.
“What the hell is that?” Gaius yelled, covering his ears.
“Look, an airship!” Kleopatra pointed at the tiny object approaching them. A deafening blare whizzed through the air as the airship sped past the town and disappeared into the distance. Felix tilted his head in confusion. Why was it in such a rush?
And then he spotted it.
“Oh gods, no…” The Guardians covered their mouths in despair, watching the comically oval shaped bomb hurtle towards the ground. The first ray of light blinded them. It was all over.
Felix threw his hands forward without thinking.
It was too much to take, even for a Tier Five meta like him. It was surely too much for any one mortal to handle. All it was going to take was a couple more seconds before his brains burst out from his ears.
The Guardians watched in both horror and amazement at the giant pink forcefield containing the explosion. The light within it was impossibly bright, and the psychic sphere seemed to be trembling under the sheer pressure of holding in forty thousand petajoules of energy.
“NOO!”
Felix was screaming as though he was in a torture chamber; psionic energy flaring out from his body and blood dripping from his nose. Searing pain was hurtling in his brain like a raging tsunami, threatening to tear it into pieces.
But he held on, despite the massive amount of energy being absorbed into his forcefield. He held on, even though there was no way anyone could withstand the explosion. He held on, for those he sought to protect.
“Not… today!” the psychic yelled again as the last of his reserves exploded from him, pushing back against the explosion in a final effort. Pink energy burned fiercely, in wilful defiance against its unbeatable foe. If it was men’s destiny to battle nature, then let him die trying.
The dazzling spectacle set the skies ablaze once more as they clashed for the last time. Felix fell to his knees, drained of energy.
And the Hydrus bomb yielded.
Remnants of the explosion fizzled out like poorly lit firecrackers. The fragments of the shattered psionic force field danced around the streaks of energy, before both gradually evaporated into the air.
And just like that, it was over.
“Felix!” Gaius rushed over his friend, desperately feeling for a pulse. His eyes wavered with worry as he flipped the boy’s body over.
“Give me five more minutes, please…” Felix groaned, before breaking into a weak chuckle. A snort left Gaius as he wiped his eyes, helping the meta up.
“By the gods… you actually did it,” Cybele muttered in disbelief. “You did the impossible.”
“You saved all of us!” Kleopatra exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “How did you even do that? How powerful are you, exactly?”
Felix responded by lying on the floor. His head was still spinning, but at least he was still alive. He closed his eyes serenely.
----------------------------------------
The following weeks were much less of a celebration, but more of a scramble to get everything back to normalcy. Although the magis had returned to their own flesh after being abominations for a few weeks, they were much less inclined to interact with the real world, not to mention helping to rebuild the torn country.
The metas, on the other hand, were much more cooperative. After all, the crisis had taught them the importance of setting aside petty differences for the greater good. The government played its part as well, granting positions of powers to metas alongside magis to push for a more equal society. Sirius City shook from the aftereffects of the radical societal overhaul, but with both races now supporting its foundation pillars, things were a lot more stable.
Internationally, President Vulcan had withdrawn Surone from the United World Alliance. Despite practically declaring war on the country, the UWA was adamant that they stay and contribute to their global economy. Vulcan ignored their pleading, of course, and pulled out of the conference without a further word.
As for the true culprit, Felix visited her almost every day. She was showing no signs of waking up, but he held onto hope. Aglaia will wake up one day, and when that day comes, he will show the world to her. A world where she would be protected from condemnation. A world full of hope and light.
But that would have to wait.
“You’re still here?” A woman walked up to Felix, observing the girl floating in a container filled with blue liquid.
“Obviously,” Felix replied sarcastically, before turning to the Guardian leader. But Cybele only smiled in response.
He decided to change the subject. “How’s the rest of the Guardian Council doing?”
“They all came back. And thankfully, they seemed much more amiable,” the Guardian Council leader replied. “If there’s one thing I learnt, it’s that I need to prove my worth before anyone follows me into battle. I have made a great many mistakes as a leader, but I won’t stop striving to be one worthy of their respect.”
“I look forward to your guidance-” Felix turned to Cybele, before giving her a short bow. “-Leader.”
The woman’s eyes flashed with surprise, and she looked away briefly. There was a pause before she turned her attention back to Aglaia’s serene, floating body.
“Y’know, we never did find out the cause behind her hysteria.”
Felix raised an eyebrow. “Alternate versions of herself from other universes found refuge in her mind in their dying moments, thus causing her to go insane with their memories, no?”
“Right, but what caused that to happen?” Cybele folded her arms. “It all seems to be some sort of loop, but every loop has to have a starting point, doesn’t it? And who funnelled them into her mind?”
The boy paused. She had a point. Even if Aglaia had travelled back in time to give herself those visions, who gave them to her in the first place?
I told you. Your actions have consequences.
A shiver went down his spine as he recalled the recurring dream with the demon prince. If Aglaia had already stopped travelling back in time on the first night of the outbreak, then who gave him those psychic dreams?
Felix shook his head, waving his hand dismissively.
“I guess that’s out of our paygrade, leader. We’re Guardians, not shamans.” He gave her a wry smile. “All that matters is that we saved our country, and we’re all in one piece now.”
“Still… I can’t stop thinking about it.” Cybele was looking at the ground with a glum look on her face.
Felix tapped his wand on the control doors, leaving the covert medical facility wordlessly.