Pillars of smoke rose from the naval base and its pentagon-shaped headquarters. Swarms of missiles flew out into the horizon from hidden bunkers with little to no visible detonations. The unseen enemy’s response was swift. Lightning flashed in the rainless night, zapping the bunkers into charred craters. The Battleships Utama, Crawfurd and Marshall remained at the airport, probably under orders to prioritise the evacuation of the civilians—forced to stand idly by as the Army and Vanguard continued to suffer causalities.
“I’m surprised they still have a fleet that can shoot straight…” Vera said, standing behind the pilot’s seat, already geared up. “How the hell did they get past our picket drones?”
“Only God knows, Ma’am…” The pilot said, flinching as more railgun slugs crushed hidden missile-bunkers and pulverised infantry formations fighting around the base.
“Parapriestess Six, Spaewife, confirm you understand the mission. The GHQ’s situation is critical. You are to bypass any SOSes. What is you ETA? I need you on the ground ASAP. Over.” Lady Fiona said over the built-in commlink on the ONI.
“Spaewife, Six. Mission understood. ONI reports sixty seconds to target. Over.”
“Six, Spaewife, copy. Be advised. The Armada does not have fleet superiority over the GHQ. Expect zero fire support. Shoot-down risk is high. Jump early if necessary. Over.”
“Let’s go, Parapriestess!” The crew chief said as he slid the right door of the Black Mynah open, filling the cabin with the smell of melted concreted and ionised air. More helicopters joined in with both doors open, showing a cabin filled with infantry.
“Immediate, Utama-FDC to QRF-Two, wave off! Enemy frigate launching Triple-AMs in your direction! Jamming failed! CIWS out of range! Break! Break! Break!”
Vera was not ready. Her heart raced at the warning of impending door. She had done this time and time again, but always hated it—the rush; the high. She blurted out the words: “Parapriestess Six, executing LALO Jump!” and bolted out the door into the cold and moonless night. A black shadow passed into her Black Mynah, turning it into a fireball.
The other Black Mynahs broke formation, banking left and right, popping flares in desperation, but the autonomous anti-aircraft missiles knew better than to fall for such simple decoys and honed in their assigned moving targets unfazed. Many of them turned into fireballs, spewing twisted metal and charred bodies out into the night sky and onto the grass.
Panicked chatter from the surviving helicopters flooded the ONI.
“Romeo-Two-Actual to HighCom, QRF-TWO taking heavy causalities! We are landing one klick short of the—shit! MANPADS in the treeline! They knew we were—”
Distant explosions were heard, followed by rising balls of fire and smoke.
The airwaves turned silent.
“Altitude! Retro now! Retro, retro, retro!” Vera’s ONI warned, snapping her out of her adrenaline-induced panic. She pulled the cord. Her retrograde canisters screamed and hissed, slowing her rapid descent to that of falling leaf. Her boots impacted upon the roof of the General Headquarters and instinctively, she yanked the quick release to her retro harness.
As the empty cans fell on the mossy floor, her assault rifle rose, the fire selector flicked up from ‘safe’ to ‘semi’. The mounted smart scope synchronised its feed to her Operations Navigational Interface’s night vision overlay, placing a crosshair that drifted and bobbed about according to her movement and breathing.
“Spaewife to Parapriestess Six, SITREP. Over.”
“Six to Spaewife, touchdown. QRF-Two got wiped. Continuing with—”
Her ears propped up at the sound of creaking metal, causing her to take a knee immediately. The roof access door slammed open. The hairs on her arm stood up. Three light-green silhouettes presented themselves on her ONI with no IFF tags.
“Contact… engaging…” Vera whispered and exhaled. Nine suppressed shots exited her UAR-23 Mk7 bullpup assault rifle, spinning towards the unsuspecting three figures.
Two to the body, one to the head, times three.
Vera heaved a sigh of relief. She saw the shots penetrate the targets; no ominous plinking of heavy metal. Only the faint bouncing clinks of expended brass casings could be heard amidst the air raid siren, indoor skirmishes and naval gunfire.
Carefully, she approached the bodies. They wore black plate carriers and fatigues, and bore no unit patches, name-tags or flags. A wheeze came out form one of them. Vera had missed his forehead and hit his chin. She fired off another suppressed shot, letting off a tenth loud clink. As her enemy heaved his last breath, she heaved her next.
“Spaewife, Six. Three hostile riflemen engaged and destroyed. I landed off-target on the Northeast Wing. Proceeding on foot, indoors. Over.”
Vera changed her magazines and placed the partially-used one in her dump pouch.
“Six, Spaewife. Proceed, but double time it. Meryl and Jessalyn are spamming their SOS buttons. Break. QRF-Three is en route, but their ETA is half an hour at best. I am still tied up with the treatment of the wounded—”
A giant ball of white lit up the night sky. Vera exhaled and got down, covering her neck with her hands and counting down to three. The shockwave hit, shattering windows and blowing the roof access door off its hinges. “Christe’Emman, was that the Utama…?” She got up and gazed at the culprit; a seven-hundred-metre-long hulk of metal burned bright orange as it fell towards the sea causing huge waves to roar onto the beaches.
“Negative, that was the Farquhar. Proceed to the chapel now.”
“Wilco, Ma’am. Moving.” She got up and locked her worries in her mind-prison.
The glass on her ONI fogged up as she sprinted through the northwest offices of the GHQ. Sheesh… She thought, shaking her head at the corpses of those who looked as young as her. Infantry—conscripts mostly serving out their five-year term. Thankfully, it was a Sunday—and no government employees would be working this day. Had it been a Saturday, perhaps more innocent lives would have been lost—caught in the crossfire.
“Six, Spaewife, SITREP. Where are you?”
“I’m at the Northwest end of the offices—tons of infantry KIA on the interior—no survivors; no sign of hostiles. I’m gonna blow the bulletproof windows overlooking the chapel and rappel down into the gardens. Are there any other allies in the close-by? Over.”
“Negative, Six, abort. Possible HVT in the chapel. Head to the ground floor and rendezvous with Uriel-Two and Sol-Two. You will go in with them. How copy, over?”
“What?” Vera remarked, her rope already looped around a support pillar. “Uh, Six, copies. Tell them to watch their fire and stay sharp. I counted multiple UDF Infantry KIA within the office spaces. No civilian casualties, but ongoing gunfire. It’s too quiet. Over.” She re-clipped her rope onto the carabiner and jogged onto the stairwell. As much as the situation demanded it, elevators were still death boxes in urban warfare—the main cables could be rigged for all she knew. No magic could save you from plummeting to your death.
Uriel-Two and Sol-Two…? Vera remembered those callsigns well.
After seven floors with no resistance, she slowly and quietly pressed the push bar down on the double door and stuck her assault rifle’s barrel out through the opening, letting her smart-scope relay information back to her ONI. No heat or sound signatures detected; she stepped into the marbled hallway—only to have her barrel yanked forward and upward, and then out of her two hands. A straight sword came crashing down towards her.
Unlike what so many war magicians would describe it in their notes and biographies: “It were as though Time slowed down for me…”, it never did for Vera. All she could do was move and act according to what her years of experience in the field had prepared her for.
Purple crystals shot out from her left hand, cutting her rifle sling clean off. Free from her ‘leash’, she sidestepped his downward slash. A small window of opportunity presented itself and she spun into a crouch, her USURPER drawn from its holster, safety off, finger already squeezing the trigger all the way back; doing it three times.
Three projectiles zapped through the air, two burrowing into the assailant’s chest plate, and one drilling through their protective face plate. The fight was over. The Ussean Special Utility Railgun Pistol Enhanced Range, fired armour-defeating, anti-personnel, delayed-explosive rounds at seven times the speed of sound. No human could react quickly enough to dodge it and no magic was strong or fast enough to block it at such a close range.
Vera looked away. The Usurper always made a mess.
The assailant’s chest and face exploded, spewing teeth and flesh towards her. The straight sword and black plates were all she needed to identify friend from foe.
“Six, Spaewife, one GRNA Black Knight engaged and destroyed, Usurper in-effect! Northeast chapel entrance, hostile! Rally Sol-and-Uniform-Two to me now! Over!”
Black Knights don’t work alo— Vera’s thoughts were immediately answered by hail of gunfire from out the double doors of the northeast chapel entrance, now kicked open.
Three Black Knights and twelve escorting infantrymen—their role often nicknamed as: ‘squires’, stormed into the hallway. Vera cursed loudly within her ONI as she tossed a smoke grenade between herself and the enemy. With her left hand again, she pulled on the ceiling, activating the fire sprinklers. She made a crushing motion with her hands and the water turned into icicles. Motioned her hand down, she made them fall at great speeds, hoping to get rid of the squires at least—but to no avail.
The hail of gunfire had ceased.
A protective bubble shielded all of them—knight and squire.
These Black Knights were good—selfless even, unlike the Vanguard.
A very rare trait, not just in the GRNA, but in USSEA as well.
The silence did not last long.
From behind without warning, a black mass flew past Vera, cutting through the smoke, orange fire trailing behind it. It slammed into the protective bubble exploding on impact, weakening it though not enough to shatter it—but it did not need to.
Designed to tear through tank armour, the second-half of the rocket’s tandem warhead detonated soon after the first explosion, sending forth a thin jet of molten metal through the weakened shield; the caster was an amateur and so without a second shielding spell, the hot jet melted through the caster’s armour, cooking their organs, killing them instantly.
“Parapriestess, with us! Charge!” A familiar voice from behind her yelled. A knight in white armour with shield and lance charged past her, soon followed by one in a grey honeycomb suit with a curved sword as long as she was tall.
Vera cursed. Both of them had melee weapons. She did not, and so she elected not to join in the brazen charge and supported them from the sidelines with her Usurper, emptying the remainder of her magazine into four squires—exploding them—before dashing to her UAR-23 to gun down the remaining eight who were frantically shooting their assault rifles at point blank at the two figures within their formation, duelling with the last two Black Knights. Their bullets bounced off the invisible barriers that coated the white composite armour plates and grey nanoweave fibres of the two. Distracted, they made easy pickings for Vera who dumped every shot in her magazine into them as fast as possible.
Eight squires fell limp to the floor. Neck and chest riddled with holes. They gasped like fishes out of water—drowning on land, choking on the blood that filled their airways.
At the same time, the last two Black Knights stood frozen and impaled from their opponents’ weapons; stabbed clean through the heart, as per the UDF training doctrine.
“Thanks for the help, Parapriestess. Nice work on those squires,” The knight in white said, panting. “I told you to charge though—if there was someone near you, we wouldn’t have been able to help you at that distance. Stick with us next time. You’ll live longer.”
The tall one in clad in white armour was Evangeline Alexandra, daughter of Lord General Vega Alexandra, and now a Major according to the rank insignia on her chest. Vera knew her as Lieutenant Eva of the Pixel Vanguard, Delta Company, Fireteam Seraphim.
“I’ll take the risk, Ma’am. Duelling with Black Knights is not my forte, that’s yours.” Vera replied, reloading her assault rifle and then her Usurper, not making eye contact.
“A Usurper with its fire-rate governor removed—a Mark Seven Custom? We haven’t rolled that variant out to UDF VIPs. How did a parapriestess like you manage to source one like that?” The one in grey replied with reasonable suspicion. She leaned in and sniffed at Vera’s shoulders. “You smell familiar… Do I know you from somewhere?”
The ONI simply labelled her as “THI-VIP” and nothing more. She was only a few centimetres taller than Vera. Her name was Belladonna Thanatos, Heiress to Thanatos Heavy Industries, and only daughter of Lord Field Marshal Isabella Thanatos. She was a Fourth Sergeant back then in the Pixel Vanguard and now she was part of THI-PMC.
“I’m a beta tester…” Vera lied. “And I’m not UDF, Ma’am…” Even though Vera had her ONI protecting her identity, she continued to avoid eye contact with them.
The person they knew, or thought they knew was dead.
“Six to Spaewife, I’ve linked up with Uriel-Two and Sol-Two. We’ve downed four Black Knights and twelve squires at the northeast entrance. We are proceeding in. Over.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Spaewife to Six, I am linking comms. Break. Six-Actual, Uriel-Two and Sol-Two, you are now designated ‘Fireteam Seraphim’. Proceed into the chapel gardens and reinforce Uriel-One, Pixel-Gold and Pixel-Silver. They are still in-combat with HVT-Lilith. Over.”
“Fireteam Seraphim? That name—” Major Evangeline said before being interrupted.
“Spaewife, Six, do we have reinforcements and evac?” Vera cut the thought off.
“QRF-Three is ten-minutes out, all civilian evac birds are away and I am making my way to you in civilian-borrowed vehicles. Sol-One and Thanatos PMC have split into two task forces. One assisting the Pixel Vanguard from the brunt of the GRNA Army to the southeast wing of the GHQ, the other is on a… classified mission. Over.”
“Wilco, Seraphim will proceed,” Vera said, shaking her head at the absurdity of the situation—imagining the Queen of Prophets driving a stolen sedan from the airport was nuts.
“Parapriestess, I don’t mean any disrespect, but I outrank you. I’ll lead.” The Major said politely, but Vera could hear the undertones in her voice, and so, submitted to her authority, rolling her eyes under the protection of her ONI once more.
“Be my guest, Ma’am. I’m as winded as it is…” Vera moved to the rear, sighing.
Glory Hound… She hasn’t changed one bit… She thought.
“Just don’t get too emotional, Eva. This is war.” Belladonna warned.
“I know.” Eva hissed. “Let’s go, let’s not keep her waiting.”
“Lead the way, Ladies.” Vera said firmly, following close behind Belladonna.
The double doors to the chapel garden swung open with an eerie creek. Vera immediately knew something was off and reported back. “Spaewife, Six, fighting within the chapel grounds has ceased. No signs of this HVT-Lilith. VIP is—standby!”
A long and rusted sword lay planted into Lord General Vega Alexandra at the entrance of the chapel. Vera knew that relic—hated it even, for what it had done to her.
It was the Lavender’s Yearning. A bad omen.
Dark maroon trickled down the marble steps, seeping into the freshly cut grass.
The fight had been over for quite some time now.
“Something’s wrong,” Vera warned. The air was cold and smelt of frankincense, and yet there was no visible smoke in the air or any that was coming from the chapel. Even with the enhanced microphones on her ONI, there was no indication of other entities in area.
“Mom?! Mother?!” The Major broke rank and sprinted towards her Lord Mother.
“Eva, I told you, stick toge—ahhh!” Belladonna yelled, right before she was shwacked by a high-heeled kick to her belly, sending her flying into the office walls.
Before Vera could pull the trigger on her UAR, the figure with flaming hair disappeared and then reappeared before Belladonna, rapier and dagger clashing with her long-curved blade. “Spaewife, we’re in combat! Uriel-One, wounded! Request reinforc—”
“Parapriestess, get over here! I need you now!” Eva yelled.
“Negative, Sol-Two needs our help!” Vera argued while taking potshots at the unknown assailant, being very careful not to hit Belladonna in the process.
“That’s an order, Parapriestess! Get over here!” Eva yelled louder.
“Go, Six! I’ve got this handled!” Belladonna said breathlessly on the ONI.
“Goddammit!” Vera cursed, jogging over to both mother and daughter. Eva was in shock; she had thrown her helmet, lance and shield to the side, placing her glowing green hands on her mother’s belly in a desperate attempt to stop the blood loss.
“Get your bloody weapon up, Major! We’re in a warzone!” Vera yelled, straining her throat at the ridiculous sight, blood boiling. “Major! Belladonna is in trouble, we need to outnumber the HVT, three-to-one!” Vera let go of the foregrip on her UAR and shook her plated shoulder, only for it to be painfully slapped away by a similarly heavy gauntlet.
“She still has a pulse! Help me heal her, Parapriestess! Now!” Eva screamed.
“I… I can’t heal!” Vera said grimly, admitting her crucial flaw in this mission.
To the general’s left and right were the unblinking, pale corpses of Archpriestess and Head Priestess of Pixel, Meryl Lyons and Jessalyn Parke. Both had gaping holes where their hearts and wombs would have been; now either destroyed or worse—eaten; cannibalised.
But why isn’t Lord Vega’s heart eaten then…? Vera’s thoughts ran amok.
“What? What do you mean you can’t heal? You’re a parapriestess for saviour’s sake!”
“I can’t, Major! I don’t have the ability to!” Vera yelled. She was what the church called a ‘faulty maiden’. One that lacked the basic ability to heal a person with magic.
“Then why the hell did Lady Fiona send you of all people? Useless!” Eva said, bleeding at the eyes. She was giving it her all, despite not specialising in healing magic. “Call someone else for help, goddammit! She’s bleeding out! She’s… she’s not gonna make it!”
Vera cursed and hissed inside her helmet.
She really wanted to knock Eva out—just like last time…
Don’t do it, Vera… you’re not that person anymore… Vera exhaled. I’m not…
“Spaewife, Six, Uriel-One, critically impaled—P1. Uriel-Two, severe CSR—P2. Request immediate medivac, over!” She walked over and kicked the chapel doors open. “No civilians in the AO, request immediate danger close fires on my beacon. Over.”
“Six, Spaewife, negative on both medivac and naval gunfire. Enemy fleet still has air superiority at this time. The Pixel Flotilla is retreating westwards. You must now mirror their retreat and rally at the northwestern entrance of the GHQ for land evac. Let Pixel-Gold and Pixel-Silver deal with the HVT. Drag both Uriels to the rally point if you have to. You have your orders, now go—get the hell out of there!”
“Spaewife, Six, negative! Pixels Gold and Silver are KIA! Sol-Two is in combat with HVT-Lilith. I must commit and back her up. How copy?” Vera yelled at her superior.
The Queen of Prophets broke tactical brevity almost instantly.
“What do you mean they’re dead…?” She said, flabbergasted.
“Their hearts and wombs are gone, Milady. They are beyond resurrecting.”
“Emman! Abort mission, Parapriestess! Evac now!” Her tone had changed.
“Wilco.” Vera said in agreement. “Sol-Two, abort mission! Disengage!”
“Do I look like I can?!” Belladonna barked back at the obvious situation, still swiftly parrying Lilith’s strikes, but nonetheless unable to land any on her as well; a stalemate.
“Ah, goddammit.” Vera cursed and unloaded her UAR at Lilith. “Spaewife, unable to comply, Sol-Two is locked in. If she disengages, we’re all as good as dead. Get any battleship to give me the support I need and we’ll all go home alive! Now!”
“Negative, Six. Grab the Lavender’s Yearning and get out of there. Leave them both. Lord Isabella will come for her. The Allfather will deal with Eva. Over.”
“What? Say again, Spaewife? You want me to abandon them?” Vera was shocked at the order. Yes, this was war. Yes, she knew them both, but above all the two were valuable of assets to Ussea as the children of Lords—war heroes. They were to be their future successors.
“This is war, Vera. That sword is useless now with Lord Vega defeated… Bring it home… back to Bakkanal… where it belongs—with you… you have your orders…”
“I’d rather not carry that cursed sword anymore, Milady…”
“That sword is a tool that will help you kill Lunamaria… curse or no curse…”
Vera sighed, looking at the distraught and frozen Eva. “I’m sorry, Eva.” She placed both hands on the Lavender’s Yearning getting ready to pull it out—and when she did, The Lord General would immediately lose whatever blood she had left in her body.
She yanked upwards—but the sword did not budge. Lord General Vega Alexandra was awake, seated upright, pulling the sword downwards with both hands. “I can’t let you have this sword, Vera—not unless you save my daughter from this madness…”
“Mother?!” Eva exclaimed. “Hold on! We’re gonna get you out of here!”
Shocked, Vera almost could not speak. “I have my orders from Lady Fiona, Ma’am.”
“You know those orders are wrong, Vera. It’s time to stop running.”
“I am a survivor. Running from an unwinnable fight is my forte.” Vera hissed.
“For the future that is to come, you will need these two by your side to survive.”
“I work alone.” Vera insisted.
“Lunamaria does not. Kingsworth and Bakkanal are proof of that. Are you a Dog of the Ussean Church, or are you the Demon of Bakkanal? Answer me—answer yourself.”
“You know who the hell I am, Lord Vega.” Vera yanked hard and the sword came free. As the great Lord General Vega Alexandra fell into permanent slumber, the Demon of Bakkanal awoke once more to the screams of a distraught now-motherless daughter.
“Don, pirouette left. Usurper firing.” Vera said, addressing Belladonna by her nickname as seven tungsten slugs bolted from the barrel of her Usurper in her left hand, the Lavender’s Yearning in her right, over her shoulder. For a moment, the invisible barrier around Lilith shimmered and then shattered; microexplosions punching holes into her plate carrier, flesh and organs. Before she could react to Vera at range, the curved sword at point blank came slashing down, cutting her left arm off. It fell to the grass, dagger still in its grip.
Though weakened, Lilith did not curse, taunt or speak. With true discipline, she countered Don’s follow-up strike perfectly with her rapier. Vera fire seven more slugs at her, but this time the first three broke apart harmlessly at an arm’s length from her face. The other four slammed into the concrete wall of the southwest wing, exploding and leaving small black marks. It was as though they phased right though her.
“Vee, up top! Parry!” Belladonna yelled on comms.
Vera let go of her Usurper and brought the Lavender’s Yearning to bear. Lilith’s rapier tip grinded off its edge. Sparks flew in all directions, blinding her.
“Too slow, Mika’s pet!” For the first time, Lilith spoke.
Stunned, Vera could not react in time to blocked the heeled kick to her chest.
She went flying with the Lavender’s Yearning, crashing into the grass, rolling multiple time. “Caution: multiple rib fractures detected. Recommend morphine-microdose. Seek immediate care from the nearest priestess.” Her ONI warned her of the obvious, its glass cracked, but not shattered, but otherwise obstructing most, if not all, of her vision.
The Lavender’s Yearning now lay married to her, proof of its cursed properties. Purple crystalline vines wrapped themselves around her right hand in a stranglehold. “I will never let you go, Vera—for you are mine. Forever and always.” The sword said.
Dizzy with blurred vision, she pulled off her ONI with her left hand and breathed in the fresh garden air. She blinked once and saw Belladonna resuming the fight alone. She blinked again. Now Eva was fighting alongside her, lance and shield thrusting and blocking.
“I’m gonna need a bigger gun…” She wheezed to herself as she clumsily pulled out an autoinjector from her right crushproof thigh pouch, pressing it down into her left thigh.
“Spaewife… comms check…” Vera said weakly, waiting for the morphine to kick in.
“Six, I read you four-by-four. Are you outbound with the Lavender’s Yearning?”
“I have the Yearning, but I am staying; Lord Vega’s dying wish.” Vera said.
“Goddammit! That’s not the mission, Parapriestess!”
“The mission is always changes, Lady Fiona—patch me through to FLEETCOM.”
“That’s a negative, Parapriestess Six.”
“Then go pleasure yourself over our dead bodies then. I’ll do this myself. Out.”
“Six, do not—”
Vera sighed and closed her eyes. Counting to three. She was going to jail for this. She turned the dial on her comms set and prayed that there was someone on the other end.
“Six to any allied battleship in the AO, requesting danger close fires on my beacon!”
White noise was all was heard on the airwaves. Vera tried again.
“Parapriestess Six, to UDF High Command, Broken Chalice, I say again, Broken Chalice. Requesting danger close fires on HVT-Lilith for Uriel-Two and Sol-Two. Over.”
No reply. Perhaps every surviving ship in the Pixel Flotilla was on the run.
“I am going to jail for a very long time for doing this…” Vera cursed. She was going to have to pull at his heartstrings for this one. “Parapriestess Six hailing the XO of UDF Flagship Abraham S. Utama II. I request immediate danger close fires on the chapel of the GHQ to support VIPs Evangeline Alexandra and Belladonna Thanatos. Acknowledge, over.”
“Come on, Victor… show me you love her…” Vera muttered at the gamble.
“Scarface to Apprentice: Don will die in the next minute if you do not comply…”
White noise—and then, a voice.
“Unknown FO, this is Apprentice. That callsign is KIA. Identify yourself.”
“Six to Apprentice, I identify as the true hero of Kingsworth. Now send it.”
An audible sigh and uttered curses was heard on the radio, followed by a pause.
“Utama FDC to FO, Parapriestess Six, fire mission approved, lase the target.”
“Six to Utama, standby for lase!” Vera swapped comms channels. “Don! Dissipate her shields with your strongest spell! Fire breath! Burn it off! Eva, when her shields are down, impale her and stick her into the dirt! We rally on Lord Vega’s corpse! Run like hell!”
“Vera…?! It is you!” Don asked, panting on the comms. “What’s the plan…?”
“Kingsworth’s encore!” Vera replied. “Victor is already inbound!”
“O’Rigel… send it, Vee… We’re out of options—and I’m tired…” Don prayed.
“Vera, I’m gonna kill you after all this… if we make it out alive…” Eva cursed.
“Seraphim, execute!” Vera swapped comms and pulled the trigger on her miniature IR designator. “Utama, Six, target lased! Fire for effect!” She got up and ran.
“Mika, give me speed—all of it!” She muttered.
“Parapriestess Six, Utama FDC, we see your lase, firing for effect. Time on target, seven seconds, danger close, out!” The static on radio overwhelmed the airwaves.
Vera watched her terrible plan unfold as she dragged the Yearning in the dirt, sprinting with all her might. She watched as Belladonna’s eyes glowed red before a stream of fire spewed from her mouth onto Lilith. The invisible barrier coating her skin turned translucent and then shattered, setting her flesh ablaze, making her groan in pain—but this groan would not last for but a second as a silver lance pierced her belly and exited out the back. Eva screamed with tears in her eyes, channelling her anger as drove her mother’s murderer into the dirt, pinning her, before turning and running to her mother’s side.
“Eva, bubble shield, triple layer, now!” Vera yelled as she dove for the corpse.
Seven bolts of lightning crashed through the glass ceiling and into Lilith.
The brilliant flash either vapourised or blinded anyone in its wake.
Thunder deafened everyone and slammed into everyone’s lungs.
Dirt, burnt grass and concrete pelted the protective bubble, shattering it twice.
By the time the shower of debris ceased, only one layer remained.
Vera heaved a sigh of relief. Her gamble had paid off.
Multiple smoking craters lay before them.
But Lilith was nowhere to be seen.
“Utama, Six, unknown effect on target. Standby to repeat.”
“Six, Utama FDC, negative—we just got hit by more hypersonics. All batteries are offline. We are ditching in the sea just off the GHQ. You’re on your own. Godspeed. Out.”
A bright ball of white light appeared in the middle of the charred and bloodied garden. The choking scent of frankincense was immediately dethroned by a sweeter, softer aroma.
The white sphere then expanded vertically, taking the shape of an upside-down triangle. Cold air gushed out from its centre, clearing the smog from its front and back, ushering in a new individual onto the battlefield; one who too, had pointed ears.
A fair, but familiar maiden in milky white robes, a wand and a matching plate carrier sprinted out along with multiple Black Knights and their escorting squires. They locked eyes with Vera and the two, weapons raised by did not fire. Four Black Knights were seen lifting Lilith onto a stretcher before jogging into the upside-down triangle.
“You?! You did this?!” Vera shrieked, gripping the Lavender’s Yearning. It was the fair maiden who healed the pregnant women at the airport just minutes ago. Now she was here in the centre of it all. “Eva get ready to drop the barrier on my mark, I’m going for her.”
“Are you crazy? There’s twenty Black Knights out there!” Eva coughed wheezed. Her skin had lost its colour and she was sweaty profusely, barely holding the barrier up.
“Vera—don’t. I can’t support you. My body’s done—it’s cramping up…” Don hissed.
“I suggest you do as your friends say, Miss Veralisa Sindile of Bakkanal. I mean you no ill will. You have all played your roles perfectly in the first act of this ballad, as have I.”
The Usurper fired, recklessly shattering the protective dome over its user and allies.
“Where is my briefcase you piece of shit!” Vera fired recklessly at the white lady while running, the Lavender’s Yearning in tow, ploughing through soil and grass. The other Black Knights did not interfere and simply watched. Vera swung, but in a blink, the white lady was gone. A heavy hit from behind her made her stumble forward and fall.
“Jupiter’s Gravity.” The White Lady said. “This will keep you down. Listen, if you want your beloved briefcase, you’re going to have to work with me, Demon of Bakkanal—you and your friends.” She squatted down beside Vera, the emerald on her twisted-branch wand glowing brightly. She spoke to her dearly, closely—whispering: “Our nations are being manipulated into battle by the schemes of the Angels, but I swear on my name, I will put an end to it. You will meet me in The Garden—in The Afterlife. You and your friends have been there before, so don’t tell me it’s impossible. There, we negotiate.”
“And I should trust you why?” Vera hissed, not acknowledging that name.
“Tomorrow, ask your Allfather and Queen of Prophets, how many civilians died this day—I solemnly tell you; the answer will be zero civilian deaths.” The White Lady gloated.
“It’s over, Chrysah, your fleet is surrounded.” A strong voice echoed towards Vera, but she could not turn to see him. The invisible force continued to press her into the grass.
“Ah… speak of the devil—or should I say angel, and he shall appear…” Chrysah, the one dressed in white said. “Good evening, Your Supremacy, Allfather Gabriel Milagros.”
“Chrysah, you’ve crossed the line this time… there’s no turning back for you…” A familiar voice; the Queen of Prophets, but she did not sound mad, but rather, disappointed.
“The coalition of warlords doubted my allegiance, Lady Fiona—I had to put on a show to save my people, but trust me when I say this, I did my best to spare yours as well…”
“Thousands are dead, Chrysah, what mercy is this?” Lady Fiona howled.
“Thousands of combatants. You saw my handiwork, did you not? This Parapriestess brought her to you herself—mother and child, healed, unscathed. Proof of perfect mercy.”
“Kanata will make you hang for this Chrysah!” The Allfather barked.
“Haha! Kanata!? No, they won’t— but I shan’t say anymore. I have given the relevant instructions to your favourite Parapriestess. She will brief you—or else… now, farewell.”
The air’s scent returned to that of blood and spent gunpowder.
The weight upon Vera’s back dissipated and she could breathe fully again.
She got up—and spat out black blood falling sideways, eyes rolling upwards. The crystalline vines that tethered her to the Lavender’s Yearning shattered into purple dust.
Twenty minutes… that’s a new record, Vera… The Lavender’s Yearning hummed.