Tel hit the ground where the two Tailcoats dropped him, not even feeling the impact of it. It was more just the sudden drop and stop that told him what had happened, but he didn’t pay his surroundings any more mind than that, every ounce of his waning focus needed elsewhere.

Three portals were primed inside of him, the dead flesh tearing as they rotated outward to create the space he would need. If his mind wasn’t already flooded by the pain of his scorched body, he never would’ve been able to accomplish it, and even then, he was just barely on the edge. The chaos energy, both a curse and a blessing, kept him awake long past the point his body wanted him to pass out.

His right eye flickered open as he checked on the Tailcoats. Black and white stood in front of him, blurry enough he couldn’t make out who was who, but they didn’t seem to be moving in his direction.

Just another minute…

Just…

Another…

*

Anad’s hard-soled shoes didn’t make a sound as his feet pounded down the stone hallway, silver light trailing behind, and he charged into the room at the end. A glance left and right set the stage, another portal room from the looks of the pylons, four Mediators including Gevar, a fifth not moving on the ground, and Shara on the far side of the room. Tel was on the ground to Anad’s right, the disfigured Tink not moving, and the ceiling seemed to be some kind of giant glass window, darkness above.

There was that same sense of being watched as he’d felt when they’d fled the forest bunker. The same strange sense of familiarity, like he’d been there before, and then the same pulse that pulled the Trance away from him.

“Gevar!” Anad shouted, pushing his emotions aside for later – he needed to focus – and gently pulled on the Trance again. If it came to a fight, four Mediators wasn’t something he could half-ass. The pulses would steal the Trance from anybody holding it, with more drastic effects if they didn’t let it go. But, that second when the other Mediators were without their power would be his best chance – if he could actually manage to stay on his feet this time.

“This mission is over. We’ve lost too many Mediators and Regulars. We need to cut our losses and return to Bastion,” he said while getting a feel for the Trance and the aftertaste-like-sensation of the pulse. It was similar to what he’d faced back in the forest bunker, and he’d almost managed to hold onto it without the negative consequences.

Can I risk trying that here if it comes to a fight? Can I risk not trying it?

“Losses?” Gevar asked, turning to look at him, and he saw the wide grin splitting her face. “Losses? Don’t you realize what we’ve found here? This… this is far more important than wiping out some paltry enclave. Worth far more than a few Regular or Mediator lives. This is the success I’ve sought. That I’ve worked for. With this, I can even surpass Sir Junithar!

“This is going to vault me to the top of the Mediators and get me the recognition I deserve,” she said, throwing her arms to her sides like she was unveiling the room.

Anad did a quick check on the other Mediators, but they didn’t seem to have any idea what she was talking about either. And, even though they were her elite unit, Anad could see a hint of displeasure on their faces from the callous way she’d spoken of their lost comrades.

Shara, meanwhile, stayed standing in the air on the other side of the room, her eyes locked on Tel’s prone form.

“What are you talking about, Gevar?” Anad asked and took a side-step to his right, working his way between Tel and the other Mediators. At the same time, another pulse filled the room, tugging on the Trance Anad held lightly on to. He pulled back, just until his thinking started to blur, then let it go. It was almost like a wave passing through him, a series of currents and eddies under the surface running in a dozen different directions. But, he’d definitely felt it that last time – not all of the currents led out of him.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Gevar asked, turning back to face the pylons. One of the Mediators behind her kept his eyes on Anad, weapon drawn, but didn’t make a move. “Most of us don’t, but I do. That’s one of the things that makes me special.”

“What do you remember?” Anad asked to keep her talking, but looked towards Shara as he took another step to the right. Finally, the sorcerer looked away from Tel to Anad, her features creased with anger. Looking from her, Anad glanced to his right, where Tel lay, and back again. He repeated the glance, and Shara gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

“Do you remember the day you became a Mediator?” Gevar asked instead of answering Anad’s question, and his mind flashed to a hospital in the capital where they gave him an injection. He’d fallen unconscious almost immediately, and when he’d woken up, they gave him his sword.

“Of course I do,” Anad said.

“Do you remember what happened between the needle and the sword?” she asked, as if she was reading his mind. “That’s the important bit.”

Anad took another step to his right to make sure he was completely between the other Mediators and Tel now, but didn’t bother searching his memory for what she could be talking about. Letting her talk was an advantage while he got where he needed to be. Getting distracted by what she actually said was not.

No, his attention was focused on the next pulse that washed over him, and at holding the Trance while he explored the different currents of energy. The majority of the pull from the pulse was definitely through and out the other side, but there it was again. An undertow. As the energy passed through him, just before it left, there was a washback. If he could hold on to that, he might just be able to hold onto his Trance.

Might cause another heart attack, too.

“Or, did you think a simple needle could turn us into what we are? We’re more than human, you have to know that. Superior in almost every way, even without the power of the Trance. The power to process chaos. You think it’s your sword that does it for you? It just helps us along, like a funnel, but its your body that does all the work.

“And how did you become like that?” Gevar said, spinning to face him and once again throwing her arms out wide.

Anad froze as the words clicked in his head, while puzzled looks passed across the other Mediators’ faces. They hadn’t seen what he had in the forest enclave.

No. She can’t mean…

“The Room of Evolution under the capital was the only one of its kind. The only place we could create new Mediators,” Gevar said. “Until now. With this discovery, no, with my discovery, we will be able to create more Mediators than ever. Enough to wipe out the last sorcerers and Tinks once and for all.”

Anad’s eyes left Gevar as he looked up through the glass to where the pylons ended, to where the portal sat, as his mind recalled the monsters outside.

Mediators are monsters, just like them?

He didn’t even resist as the next pulse pulled the Trance out of his grasp.

*

Shara didn’t move much during the ridiculous exposition. Sure, “let the woman talk” was the plan. But, did she seriously just say Tailcoats were made the same way those monsters were in the woods? By the old creepy-touch of a crazy-eyed tentacle monster?

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It probably offered them candy first.

Shara shook her head to bring herself back on point. Tailcoat politics weren’t her problem – though by the look on Anad’s face, he didn’t know he’d been violated by the peeper – and she tried to figure out just how the hell she was going to get to Tel and get them both out of there. Alive. Preferably alive.

Anad had made some funny eye gestures, like he was telling her to take care of Tel. That was all well and good, but how was he going to deal with four Tailcoats while she did that. Assuming he was even on her side in the first place. She could run – the Tailcoats seemed far too engrossed in their little chat to care one way or another. It wouldn’t take her long to get back to Count’s glyphs, and then ‘explosion’ would flood the whole place. That’d be the end of the Tailcoats – probably – and also the end of Tel.

The Clocksmith wasn’t moving much, but she’d seen his eye open. He was still alive, even if barely. Could she bring herself to leave him like that? No, she already had her answer to that. She would’ve left a long time ago if she could.

He’d pulled her out of the enclave under Bastion in much the same shape. Carried her across half a city – with his scrawny little arms – and bartered away his own stopwatch to see her healed. Trying to get him out was the least she could do.

Trying Shara? Would I actually be satisfied with trying?

No. I will save him.

Probably.

She just needed a chance so she didn’t have to fight her way through four Tailcoats. They were most vulnerable right after the pulse hit, which was probably why ol’ green-eyes was keeping such a close watch on her. Anad had to know that too. Actually, why did it seem like it almost killed Anad every time back in the bunker, while green-eyes just lost his hold on the Trance?

Was this pulse different? Or was it something Anad had been doing?

It didn’t matter. The pulse was her window of opportunity, and she’d jump through it one way or another.

Anad’s girlfriend – What did he say her name was? Gevar? – let out a long sigh, then put her hand on her face like she was supremely disappointed in something, yellow light spilling from her eyes. “I can see you understand… but don’t agree,” the woman said, her attention on Anad. “I take it Kalesin won’t be joining us then?”

“He won’t be,” Anad said, silver light likewise pulsing in his eyes and then leaking out like smoke at the same time the three other sets of eyes began to glow.

“Pity. He was useful. Not as good a tool as you were, but there was potential,” the woman said. “Now I’ll just have to see to it you don’t make it back to…” she cut off and staggered as the pulse washed over her.

The second the green light fled from the Tailcoat’s eyes, Shara’s wrist snapped forward, her fist colliding with his quickly parrying blade in a small whomp that tossed him back. It wouldn’t be enough to really hurt him, but it bought her a second as she whipped her weapon around to see what she could do about the other three.

At the same time, the silver light in Anad’s eyes flickered, but didn’t vanish, and though he grimaced, he darted forward at the closest Tailcoat with a straight lunge. The other man, without the light in his own eyes, moved sluggishly in comparison, but still got his sword up in line to parry Anad’s thrust.

Well, he would’ve parried, but Anad cocked his wrist, bringing his own blade up and over his opponent’s sword in a fluid motion that trailed silver smoke. Then, even as the man leaned back out of range, Anad pulled short on his feint, and continued his downward cut to score a deep slash across the man’s forward thigh.

The Tailcoat managed to step back as Anad recovered to push his advantage, but the second nearby Tailcoat swept in, eyes once again glowing with a black-lined red, and intercepted Anad’s sword. That didn’t get the first Tailcoat out of danger though, Shara’s fist sweeping in with a built-up charge right behind him. As soon as that hit, she would…

Lines of yellow cut in front of Shara’s swinging fist, and Gevar’s sword came up to block the weapon… but there was no whomp.

Why was there no whomp?!

Because Gevar hadn’t parried the fist; she’d parried the chain just below the fist.

A snap of her yellow-lit sword tossed the chain to the side, and Gevar spun and charged in at Anad, while a flash of green to Shara’s right was the only warning she had as green-eyes dashed straight for her.

Shara dispelled the chain and brought the weapon back to her side, quickly giving it a spin before tossing it towards the rushing Tailcoat. The man ducked to the side, not even losing a step, half the distance between them already closed. Shara drew back her wrist, dispelling the chain, and tossed it out a second time.

A quarter of the distance left, and the man still dodged aside, inhumanly fast, green eyes glowing fiercely as he closed for the kill.

Shara backpedaled as quickly as she could, despite not being anywhere near enough to escape, and drew her wrist back yet again.

The Tailcoat seemed to predict what was coming, eyes watching for the expected fist, but then they fell on the chain that hadn’t vanished. That split-second pause as the man’s brain raced to process what that meant was just enough for Shara’s metal fist to clip him on the back of the shoulder from where it had rebounded behind him.

Whomp, and the Tailcoat lost his step, stumbling and rolling unceremoniously across the ground as Shara scurried away from him, a pulse washing across the room. She’d managed to survive the rush, but the man was already getting up, green light coming back to his eyes, and that still left Anad facing three Tailcoats by himself.

She’d missed her chance with the pulse, which meant she had to find a way to survive another rush. Her metal fist began it’s practiced rotation as she readied herself for whatever came next.

That was when Tel started screaming.

*

Tel couldn’t hold it in any longer, the pain was just too much. The portals ripped through him where dead tissue met living, his nerves on fire as the magic severed his arm and leg. Pink gears erupted from the flesh of his upper left thigh and his left shoulder, the portal cutting through muscle and bone as easily as a Tailcoat’s sword. Blood sprayed across the walls, the wet splat of it somehow still clear even over the sound of his own screaming.

But that pain wasn’t even the worst of it. No, it was dwarfed by the small pit of pure agony in his head, like somebody had put a spiked, molten hot, spinning top where his eye had been.

A brief second of wonder – Was this really a good idea? – got pushed aside as he’d already passed the point of no return. If he didn’t finish, if this didn’t work, he’d bleed out in seconds.

With all the pain of his external body, Tel retreated through the door in his own mind, the brief respite just long enough to focus and push.

Silver emerged from the rotating portals, a hand and foot first, but growing as the attached leg and arm came forth. Within a heartbeat of pain that stretched for hours, the full limbs spread from the portal, and Tel forced his wretched body to take a breath. It was the moment of truth, and time for something he’d never tried.

If it was even possible.

Reaching around the portal with his magic, from the very edge of his ruined but still living flesh to the cusp of silver, he pulled the two together while dispelling the portals. The border between metal, bone, and flesh vanished, two separates becoming a whole, nerves wound into gears that stuttered and started at the new stimulus. Pain shot its way up and down Tel’s entire body, like lightning coursing through him over and over.

He melded the essence of his magic to power and control machines with the flesh and blood of his own body, creating a new network of synapses and motor controls. The pathways between the gears became veins, while the gears themselves were his muscles. Now that he was part of it, the make-up of the Reaper’s limbs astounded him.

Where he’d expected something like pistons to internally move, he instead found thousands upon thousands of tiny gears, like grains of sand on the beach. The gears fit together in impossible ways, constantly rearranging themselves as he moved his new limbs. As he flexed his silver fingers.

And then the pain stopped. He’d done it!

All that was left was the fiery pit in his head, and Tel moved on to the final step. The most difficult.

Tel’s eye popped like an overripe grape in his head, juices gushing out and flowing over his cheek, as a silver orb pushed its way into his eye-socket. Like he’d done with his leg and arm, Tel used his magic to bridge his still-living optic nerve to the Reaper’s left eye, and suddenly the world came into focus.

And with it, most of the pain faded. Sure, there was still the lingering echo of it, like a nightmare he couldn’t shake after waking, but compared to what it was before, it was almost pleasant. Tel pushed himself up to a seated position, his own severed and charred limbs sitting next to him in pools of blood.

Tentatively, Tel flexed his new silver leg, bringing the foot under himself, and then with his right hand on the wall, worked to stand up. The motion was awkward, like he needed to use different muscles – which… he did – but he managed to get himself up.

The others in the room hardly seemed to notice, too busy with their own battles as Anad fought off three Tailcoat’s all by himself, and Shara worked to contain a fourth. As Tel watched the fights, numbers and data floated in front of his left eye, the measurements in turn creating chaos energy that further empowered the parts he’d salvaged from the Reaper. Within another blink, images of the people in front of him split off in a range of colors, like different versions of them decided to do different things.

Almost immediately, the actual person followed one of those images – usually the green one – but sometimes a yellow, and the process started again with another explosion of colored copies.

That was it. The Reapers didn’t actually see the future. The eye measured, calculated, and predicted possible futures. The colors of the images denoted the likelihood of the future occurring, with green being very likely and red not likely at all.

No wonder the Reapers were such terrifying opponents.

Tel’s eye locked on the three Tailcoats squaring off against Anad as the gears of his new left hand shifted and rotated instinctively. Like the metal itself shivered, a wave passed up the arm while Tel’s fingers curled in on themselves to be replaced by the barrel of a gun.

Time to find out if he could be just as terrifying.