Lieutenant-General Fredrick, I sincerely need you to understand what the situation is. We’ve had an entire city street torn to shreds because the information you’ve provided us was faulty, and the forces you’ve sent weren’t sufficient. I’m hard-pressed to say that mine would be any better, yet you and I both know that what we need is something greater.
A shuddering crashing alerted Jamie to the existence of the intruder instantaneously. This was no attempt at stealth, their presence was announced the moment they broke into the ballroom, yet so too was their attack. Before anyone with guns could react, three of them were dead.
Every man with a weapon began to fire in the direction of the dust plume, yet nothing conclusive could be discerned. It wasn’t the sound of bullets grinding flesh, nor was it the sound of them pinging off of steel armour.
The dust settled as they stopped firing. Jamie watched as what he could only describe as an angel revealed itself to them. A knight, clad in golden armour from head to toe. Jagged, pointed plates scaled their entire body, the chest plate the only smooth surface, gently curving from the figure’s chest to its waist. A grand whale etched into the unknown, invincible material.
Presence overwhelming, beauty-defying nature, it was as if existing in the same room as them was the same as being handed down a death sentence, albeit with a warm smile and kind regards. The helmet looked as though it had removed the impurities of the human face. Elegant designs ran along the cheeks, and the eyes were but beacons of gold.
The only human thing about the knight was the rifle it held in its hands, aimed directly at Jamie.
No, there was one more thing. The knight’s plume, long locks of bright orange hair. It was her, it had to be.
I know your biases against these people are justified. If word got out about how we tolerate the men and women who use the Spirits’ sacred power for themselves, we’d be throwing off the delicate balance that our very society is founded on. They’d accuse us of favouring humans, disrespecting the laws of nature, playing god, and we’d see more than just our heads rolling.
“There are several hostages in the room with you, the rest are still in separate rooms. Twenty-three terrorists left, twenty-two, twenty-one.”
Evalyn did not let up once, repeating the rhythm of firing, racking the bolt, and firing over and over. When she ran out, she loaded another clip in the blink of an eye while round after round bounced off her armour, falling harmlessly to the floor.
She could see Jamie fleeing, but the hostages came first. A feverish man came running at her with a combat knife when he realised bullets weren’t going to work, yet she couldn’t be bothered freeing either of her hands.
A limb protruded from her shoulder, grabbing the man, and wrapping itself around him. Without even flinching, she sent him crashing through the window, considering his last-ditch efforts to be a surrender.
In another six seconds, eight people lay dead on the ballroom floor, and Evalyn reloaded her rifle. She walked out of the room, appearing to be in no hurry. At the door, she turned, a fist aimed towards the wall behind the hostages. A mass of gold decimated the wall behind them, exposing the entire room to the open air. The captured took the cue and ran as fast as they could manage.
But I am telling you, Fredrick, in this messed up world we live in, god may as well be dead, so I’m just turning to the next best thing.
Jamie’s only thought was to get to the machine. In his mind, no, he knew for a fact that was the only chance they had. Yet he was ready. He felt himself being pushed to the brink, being dared to offer everything he had in the name of what he knew was right. The sound of automatic gunfire was repeatedly snuffed out by single, well-placed shots.
He could hear his plans crumbling around him, yet he did not despair. The beast had legs, and it was now fully capable of demolishing the entire city, just like she claimed she could. He would rival her; he was sure of it.
She would follow behind him as he ran through the first floor. The corridors would give him cover unlike the courtyard. He ran, shooting vaguely behind him as his men rushed out to respond to the commotion. Most were executed before they even caught a glimpse of her.
He watched as the shapes she formed divided and conquered entire groups of men. Using walls to block their bullets before finishing them off one by one with her rifle. Grabbing their ankles and dragging flailing bodies towards her. Anyone who got inside melee range was grabbed and thrown aside, their knives stripped from them and thrown towards anyone still shooting. Everything she did killed someone or rendered them powerless.
He pushed the panicking engineers out of the way as he scrambled to open the hatch, entering the moment the gap was wide enough for him to fit. He seated himself and cranked the ignition, pulling as hard as he could. The engine spluttered and whined for what felt like a small, teeth-grinding eternity before roaring to life, the rumble shaking his core.
We strip them of their humanity, monitor their every move, force them to become mercenaries, bar them from having children for fear of what they might birth, keep their identities secret for the sake of our reputations, and hope they keep their godlike power in check, else we have to take their loved ones as hostages and label them international criminals.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Evalyn’s crusade down the corridor of the first floor was devastating. As soon as she reached the second floor’s first room, a barrage of bullets came from both her left and her centre. Blocking the bullets to her left with a golden wall, she focused her attention directly in front of her, placing shots centre mass. Heart, lungs, anything that would kill on impact or within a second or two.
She used her other hand to push the wall away into the hostiles behind it. It morphed into cuffs, pinning their legs to the floor and their arms chained to the roof. Easy targets. She let them drop to the floor as she kicked the first room’s door down.
“One in the closet, the other is right next to you, behind the door.”
She sent a round flying into the closet, then another for good measure. The gargled screams from inside signalling her to start her next move, while another hail of bullets greeted her from the other side of the wood. She formed her right gauntlet into a blade and struck it through the flimsy cover, blood coating it by the time she reverted it to its original shape. The hostages, rife with fear sat paralysed in the centre of the room, helplessly staring at what they had to assume was their saviour.
She stepped outside and headed towards the second door. The armour in the courtyard began to shift as the sound of its roaring engines reverberated around the court. Something from deep within told her to deal with the ringleader last.
Yet, those with the power chose to stick by us. If we’re going to take everything away from them, yet deny them the one purpose we’ve given them when the people they’re tasked to protect are suffering in front of their eyes…well isn’t that just ignoring common courtesy?
He centred the knight in his sights, aiming the oversized rifle directly at her head. He squeezed the trigger as the machine compensated for the recoil, just as promised. The gunshots were deafening, the entire complex shook as if the city itself was being bombed. The shells created craters where they fell. A cacophony of death, written by the ceaseless march of warfare.
Yet, when the gun smoke cleared, a hand to match the size of the machine’s mechanical ones stood in his way. A golden, divine hand. The bullets it had blocked fell to the ground, crushed and folded under their own force.
The hand dissipated into a flurry of golden dust, and standing in the midst of that was the knight. Her heavenly visage soaked in the blood of what almost seemed like offerings.
Aether and Diesel. He had seen this battle once before. He would not let it end the same way.
Yet, when bullets ran out, he resorted to mechanical fists. When she did not even pay them any heed, he threatened the lives of the hostages around him. Even then, she would not let his touch reach them as they ran for their lives. Draining, just like Jamie’s hope.
It was not fair; it was not the work of Humans or Spirits. No Human this smart could not be this powerful, nor could any Spirit this powerful be so conscious. A force of nature, given sentience. It wasn’t fair. It simply broke every assumption he could have or ever would have about the world he lived in.
He of all people was outclassed. He couldn’t even count it as a battle; it was a cleanup routine. This was routine for people like her, people who would step on ants like him without a second thought.
What was he doing? Flailing around in a cold, lifeless replication of himself. An illusion of power, the one chance the regular world had at catching up to people like her. He stood no chance. He stood no chance. He stood no chance. He stood no chance. He stood no-
General, if I wanted you to change the rules then I wouldn’t be asking you like this, and if I wanted pity, you’re the last person I’d come to. I’m asking you to make the right choice.
The last room had been cleared, and Evalyn finally turned her attention to the beast in the centre of the courtyard. It was flailing, like an animal with nowhere left to run. She watched as it did, the shell casings and folded bullets littered the floor like the remnants of a child’s tantrum.
She knew by experience what the pilot was feeling. The realisation that the world was nowhere near as convenient as one thought. The pain that she had felt when she realised her father was irredeemable, the despair she had watched Elliot face when he realised that despite his overwhelming talent, he was powerless in the grand scheme of things.
She began to release arms from her armour, wrapping them around each limb, each joint, each screw. Lightly, she applied force, slowly pulling apart the object as it tried its best to resist. Disconnecting limb from body, joint from limb, screw from joint in an organic array of life, of magic.
She propped her rifle against the second-floor balcony’s railing and lifted herself off the floor with the very tendrils she used to disassemble her enemy bit by bit.
She unsealed the hatch, cracking it open as if it were a mere walnut. The meat inside consisted of just a single man; a helpless, disillusioned man. He stared at her as if he was staring at god. He stood, and they came face to face. Everything but the cabin fell to the floor, as the two finally met.
“Who are you…”
“I’m the most powerful human to ever walk the earth.”
“I see…what does that god-like being fight for?”
“To live. I love to live. I will protect everyone and everything that makes me love living, and I will destroy anything that threatens that.”
“Hah…that’s…pretty selfish.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
Evalyn, in one final show of mercy, offered a hand, as if to say stop this, let’s take you back. Yet Jamie refused to take it. They both knew he had nowhere to go back to. Who that had been, where that had gone, or how, it all remained a mystery.
There were those who suffered in the world Evalyn loved, yet that was a given of life. To have what you want meant depriving someone else of their wishes. That was the base truth of the world. Until the imaginary, far-off dream of utopia became a reality, people would step on each other for all eternity. In the short life Evalyn lived, the short life Elliot had been given, the life that Iris had yet to experience, the life that Elvera still had left, she would be the protector of it all. She would shoulder it all.
Even the unfortunate tales of those left behind.
Yet Jamie couldn’t take it, so he pressed the gun to his temple and pulled on the hammer. She knew it had happened the moment the bang signalled the end of the day’s fighting, like the bugle on some far-off battlefield. Yet the hand remained outstretched. The offer of peace still stood, like the foolish notions of heaven and hell the living would force on the dead.
Which had he gone to?
I’m asking you General, as your peer, as a citizen, as her shield against the very forces that suppress her. Mobilise Evalyn Hardridge. She is our hope.