Even with everything ready, Drenar is nervous. This plan could go badly in any number of ways. Kiera could be delayed. The Talons could bring in a trickle of reinforcements at a time and wear them down. Val could just decide to slaughter all of them with overwhelming firepower. But he’s still got the leverage when he clicks the hostile arcanlink. Most everyone and the survivors are gathered by the safety barricades and hardened arcane barrier generators that Claire had managed to get through the ducts. She’s still feisty for being beaten to hell, and now he understands why Joey is insistent on getting her as patched up as she can.
He’s about to launch a gambit of dangerous proportions. Inviting the enemy in for a negotiation to get them all grouped up. It doesn’t bother him that this may result in a lot of enemy casualties. His goal now, is the safety of everyone in the room, first and foremost.
“Attention invading jackasses, this is your friendly neighborhood battle dragon, looking to speak to your leadership,” he announces into the arcanlink. “We want a ceasefire for negotiation of terms. Specifically, you take your dead and wounded out of Asqualia, leave, and don’t ever come back, and we promise not to follow you to the ends of the earth to kill every single last one of you for the lives you’ve taken tonight.”
“You think this will work?” Angela asks anxiously while adjusting the autobow. “Also this room makes my body vibrate, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Seriously Angela? After watching you go Super Saiyan after touching one small crystal, I’m pretty sure Val’s off-the-cuff comment about looking like a goddess may not be in jest,” Nick says while glancing at the giant mana crystal in the center of the chamber. “So like, don’t touch any more of those.” Drenar still can’t process that one. Angela? Relatively normal Angela, had grown crystal scales in the heat of a crisis. And he thought he was having issues tonight.
No, scratch that, they’re all going to be walking basketcases by the morning, assuming he lives past this stunt. The Talons have been notably silent after his taunting call, so maybe they’re ignoring it? Well, that works too, the Valkyries should be on the way soon enough, in a much-needed moment of reinforcements. Kiera is probably going to murder him after this. Angela’s parents are next in line. Diane might be a distant third. A crackle of static on the arcanlink breaks his grim outlook on the demise of freedom.
“Drenar Rashalda. So that is who you are. The descendant of the Luminaires I’ve killed.” That poisoned honey voice practically drips out of the arcanlink, and he grips it tightly. “You know you’ve made some inconveniences for me over the last week. It’s…bold when someone so young can show this much promise.”
“Oh let me lay into the bitch, Drenar–” Julia starts to say with a deadly look on her face, teeth clenched and eyes with the focus of an apex predator. He motions for calm in the room, and takes a second.
“Oh, you know my name, that’s cool. Now what little birdy told you that one?” It’s possible that King finally spilled the secrets, but given how he doesn’t know King's true end-game yet, he’s not sold on that theory. It could have been Jonaleth, or maybe even Crosomer. Where is Crosomer, anyway? Probably dead or being held hostage by Val's men, he figures. Even he wouldn't have wanted this level of violence.
“No. I just recognized you from your dragon form. You looked like someone I’ve killed. Someone quite memorable." He can almost picture that menacing sneer on her face.
“Oh, let me guess. Lyssa and Alex. You killed at least one of them, I’m all but sure of that.” He feels that shift of Alex through his consciousness, and tension builds in his body. Alex’s growl of anger is followed by a fleeting image.
A helmeted knight, wielding a crimson greatsword, bloodied, staggers to the open maw of a teleportal. Alex dives down from the heavens, and a badly injured woman is on the ground, dressed in silver and brass armor, the metal is blood-stained. Hers, likely. That is also true for the foe limping away with the helmet, and those blood-red eyes behind it, look at him with contempt. He tries to reach them, but they flicker away in the shimmering light of the active teleportal. The only thing left is Lyssa, battered, stabbed, and bleeding to death despite her draconic might. Screams of a battle are still ongoing in the wooded vale, where Crosomer’s soldiers had outnumbered the Luminaires and the Valkyries, ten to one.
And still lost. But that victory is utterly hollow as Alex holds her in his arms, trying to administer aid, and she asks him just to hold her close, for a few more seconds. She utters her last words.
“Alex, may we all meet again, under the skies of Valhalla…”
It’s five seconds of revelation for him. It’s a blink of an eye to everyone in the room. It’s Alex who breaks the silence.
She has to die for what she’s done. It’s the same sword. Drenar clenches his jaw--Val had sent Lyssa to her grave? That makes this personal now, and he squeezes the radio tightly. He can't rush into this in a blind rage. That will get him, and everyone else killed.
Fantastic. Super creepy sword that feels like spiders on my soul? It’s icky and I debate whether it’s crimson by design, or she never cleans it and leaves all sorts of blood and viscera on it. He clicks the radio again after this really awful revelation. “But Val, let’s be clear here, I’m interested in one thing. The preservation of kinship lives. Come to the power core. We’ll negotiate.”
“Nah, I think I’ll just storm in and take what I want,” she says with a malicious laugh. “Seeing as you interrupted the slaughter earlier, I consider it a very poor sport.”
“Uh, which time was that? Considering the many times that could apply from the past week, please remind me.” Julia grins wildly, Angela sighs, Joey looks at him like he’s crazy, and Nick just puts a gloved hand to his face and shakes his head in resignation. There’s a rather awkward pause. “Val, I have something you want. And it took me fighting over a pit of acid, a room filled with venomous spiders, and deadly traps to get to.” He taps the [PROJECT] button and there’s a flicker of an intense beam of light over his body as the device scans his image, then fades.
He pulls out Volkir’s journal and grins at the maniacal dragon bitch he’d like to test his new sword on. If only she’ll give him the opportunity, with the right persuasion on his part. “I have something really cool to show you! Why, it’s a runic translation matrix! Cobbled together over hundreds of years with painstaking research. It would be a shame if someone…you know…tossed it into the core of a mana reactor to disintegrate it.”
“Seriously, you have a death wish Drenar, and I’m convinced you're crazy,” Kyle protests.
“That ship sailed a long time ago before we met you, Kyle,” Julia beams. He ignores the chatter in the background and the light flickers on the arcanlink and a hologram emerges from the top of the device in a blur of blue particles that coalesce into the figure of a woman as deadly as she is–no, beauty doesn’t apply here, she’s got murder laced in her soul. No pretty face can ever get that image out of his head with the way she hacked apart one of her own men with a manic grin on her face.
Stolen novel; please report.
“You really think that’s a good idea, Rashalda?” she asks with deadly intent. “Irritating me?”
“Nah, have you been paying attention? This is your chance to cut your losses. You let the people of Asqualia leave, alive. Your men collect your dead and wounded, and as soon as the last psychopath is on a teleportal out of here, I’ll give you the book.”
“And you think I’ll not just kill you the second you open that door? I can do this the hard way, Rashalda.”
“Val, baby, seriously, you’re killing me here. I’ll give you the keys to godhood! It’s what you, and your nefarious advisor, wanted from the beginning! All it’s going to cost you is a handful of people who are not even worth the trouble of chasing down.” He puts on that sardonic smirk to try and sell the deal, while Julia cracks her knuckles. It’s very distinct with those gauntlets on. Val looks like she’s doing the math on this one. “Your call. You have two minutes to make a decision, or this opportunity goes away forever. Why stall, my dear dragon? It’s a deal all too sweet! You’ll be granted your crown, the world knelt at your feet!”
ARE YOU SERIOUS?! Alex screams loudly and even Joey winces from the volume. Julia is in titters of laughter, and Angela tries to stifle a laugh. You’re just gonna fling rhymes at her now? Did you take some brain damage from the near-drowning, or do you have a death wish?!
You realize this plan only works if the murder lizard commits to this bait. And even then, there’s no guarantee this is going to work. With the room prepped and every conceivable contingency in place with their armaments, he has to get her to commit. But he gets the response in the dim sparkle of little blue particles that lead to a creased smile on her projection image.
“Very well. I’ll entertain this. Given how you’ve fought admirably, perhaps there is a way to revolve this where I get what I want.” She smiles that deadly smile–seriously, how dumb does she think he is? He’s annoyed that she’s not even trying to hide her intentions. “Show me the journal.”
“Fine. One journal of a really uptight sage. You don’t want to know what it took to get to it." He shows her the volume, and even briefly feathers through the pages to show her it’s intact, and not a fake or damaged, and she grins–why are there so many teeth? That is not a normal smile. He would say she’s part demon, but as far as he knows, the only things remotely resembling demons in this messed up fantasy nightmare he’s living have been dead, gone, and buried for four thousand years. “Convinced yet?”
“I want you to meet me in the middle of the room, no weapons.”
“No. I get to keep my sword, at a minimum.” her eyes narrow at this. “Just like you can keep that great big butcher sword of yours.”
“Oh, that’s hardly an accurate depiction. It has history! It’s called Palach. That’s Russian for ‘executioner’ if you didn’t know,” she says with a twist of an accent. Her English is flawless enough he hasn’t been able to pick up the origin until just now. “And yours looks…awfully familiar, you know that?”
“It should. After all, you had this sword lodged in your gut once, and you somehow managed to stagger away alive,” he says with remarkable restraint. Lyssa had struck one last blow even mortally wounded, a testament to her steadfastness even in the face of her pending death. One final blow to destroy the monster. And the next time I get a chance, it’s going right smack dab through your skull, if this is anything resembling a just world, to stop your malicious plans that have killed family and people I know. “Of course, it’s probably the mirror opposite of your twisted blade of ‘justice.’ Mine’s cooler.”
Where is this urge to be sardonically witty coming from, is it Joey? Or is it just a deep-seated coping mechanism going into overdrive from the beyond-perilous situation he finds himself in? It’s probably the latter, sadly. “Your men stay by the entryway, we’ll have to do the same. There’s a few conduits that will mark out the line in the proverbial sand.”
“Fine. Not that it’ll do you much good, anyway. Just remember, we outnumber you. Any funny business would be… ill-advised.”
“Likewise, your royal dragoness,” he adds with a mocking bow. She lets out a sound of disgust before snapping her fingers at someone off-screen.
“They’re opening up. Don’t start shooting, I don’t want the goods damaged.” She peers at him, with those deadly ruby eyes. It takes all of his will to remind himself that her face is simply a mask for the monster beneath. “See you soon, then.”
The arcanlink clicks off and those motes of blue light dissipate into the room's heavy, brightly lit air, and the flicker of arcane conduits flicker across the forms of his friends and new allies. He nods to each of them. “Get to the position. You guys know what to do.”
He’s ready for this now. Luminari chimes on his back, and Joey nods quietly. “Joey, what we saw earlier…you think it means something?”
“I don’t know what it means, Drenar, but it’s nice to not be alone in the fight. And you need me next to you…why, exactly? Rather than the unbreakable tsundere dragon?”
“I just need a tip-off on when Val intends to start committing murders. Then dump everything we’ve got on her." He strips off his grenades, the autobow gets taped carefully to a console out of sight, and he dashes across the metal and plexiglass catwalk, placing several alchemical flash-bangs with a sticky adhesive at key locations. Nick and James are up above at an elevated firing position, Levine is commanding the irregulars along with Zameren, Julia, Angela and Kyle are secured near good cover from the heavy mechanical consoles. Joey hands him the devices from her bag. He puts out a wisp of a tether of telekinetic energy, and feels it looped around his hand. He gives the gentlest tug, and feels the arming lever jiggle–those pins are the smallest amount of force away from pulling and triggering the trap.
“Hey, there’s something I should probably tell you, considering we are–”
“Joey, we’re not going to die. You have my word on that.” He tethers another area trap, and another. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
“But–”
“Joey, it might surprise you, but I have been to the brink more than once.” His wrist trembles slightly at that subtle mention, and he tries to shake it away by getting this plan rolling. The bulkhead door is slowly unlocking, as agreed to, and he hurries back to a position behind a heavily shielded console, along with her.
“Okay. Just wanted you to know, on the off-chance we die–”
“Joey, if you're trying to tell me something really important, I get it, the odds aren't great. But there will be a tomorrow. I promise that.” She looks stunned at his conviction and smiles faintly.
“Alright, deal. I think there are a couple of things you and I need to talk about tomorrow, then. Now, let's go give that looney tunes dragoness an unfriendly welcome.”