Edmon’s grip around Milthren’s soothing handle didn’t ease, sensing Jumi’calro and Noa moving to a place in the wall Mila escaped to; the A.I. had directed the Nalvean boy through the process of opening the way to her, and the second she entered, the entire room lit with light before dimming.
Hurry, Noa.
His gaze drifted across the thick wall of sapphire mist Tiffany was generating to disrupt the runes from transmitting; the Witch was buying them a bit of time yet there was no telling when Mila would counteract her efforts, and he had to assume she could.
The technology of this place was far beyond what he’d expected in his worst-case scenario, and their group wasn’t faring well; the ability to create bodies as gifted and powerful as Ke’Thra’Ma for the A.I. to use was tempting and terrifying—the possibilities for them to go rogue was not fiction—Mila proved how dangerous they could become.
Still, he had to retain hope in their success as the leader; the possible gains were exponential, yet he couldn’t so much as defend Tiffany after Milthren used so much of his energy reserves, and that concerned him.
Edmon could barely stand to keep a firm and confident posture while watching Lexi retreat on Amra’Cora’s orders; the Quen’Talrat leader carried Kumi’Raltra’s near comatose body as Yelro’Kuma gave suppressive fire by throwing his flaming axes and Melia’Ia blocked weakened lasers with her heat shield.
“What are you spacing out for, Edmon?” Tiffany growled, using her orange flames to prepare another set of small ingredients to strengthen her ritual’s effects. “Can’t you do anything—make an igloo or a wall or something—don’t just stand there looking dumb!”
A calm rumble shook in his throat, black helmet shifting to observe their expended assault force. Tiffany … I can barely stand; we’re on our last legs.
“What?” The Witch’s dancing fires stilled as she turned to stare up at him, then at Milthren. “Is … it really that grim, Edmon … Am I all that is left?” she asked, little straw head drifting between their retreating members. “If so, mmh … I cannot keep this up for long from this distance and with these ingredients.”
Edmon didn’t respond—he didn’t have to—he’d used everything he had to launch that black rod at Mila. In Amra’Cora’s very short exchange with the advanced metallic Quen’Talrat, her group had used a significant amount of their usable energy to throw them back and stall, making it difficult to the Undead to move without further assistance by Elinor’s presence, and their lives were owed to Azalea’s support.
Rest with what time we have, he ordered, watching Azalea appear through the mist; the Thélméthra was back in her original form, steam puffing out of her back plates and legs as she slowly moved to observe her damaged younger sister.
“How is she…” Azalea tentatively asked as the Quen’Talrat recovered nearby.
Edmon stiffly shifted his weight to look at Violet’s smoking naked figure; much of her skin had been burned away, showing a hard black and white underlayer which had protected her from the brunt of the radial flames. She’ll live, but it will take time for her to recover.
Azalea attempted to speak to her sister through the Nexus, yet didn’t get a response. “She’s not responding to me,” she whispered, lying next to her.
No, Violet has entered a restorative meditation to hasten her recovery.
“Serris…” Lexi mumbled, shuffling to the unconscious mantis to examine her. “Is…”
“Goodness!” Tiffany gasped, bringing everyone’s gaze darting to see the little figurine hop to the left and nearly fall over. “Oh—Noa?”
Gut tightening, Edmon fixated on the Runic A.I. as she materialized a few feet away to give them a sad smile. “I have succeeded,” she whispered, hands clasped at her front and tail low. “High Lord Edmon, I have retaken my position within the Matrix.”
The lumbering metal ape ceased their jagged twitches in the Witch’s disruptive smoke, but he wasn’t sure where this would go so he kept feeding the corrupting black diamond force. “What of Mila?”
“Hmm,” Tiffany mumbled, “you don’t seem to be celebrating the victory—cranberry bits,” she hissed as the root she was using finished its slow burn and disintegrated.
Noa sighed, vision falling to the floor. “Unfortunately, Mila has escaped somehow—I’m not sure how—she triggered several hidden processes in order to destroy everything she’d built so I could not use it. Now that I’m in control, it looks as if she’d resigned herself to abandon everything long before I came back into the picture.”
“She is not acting like our enemy,” Tiffany muttered. “How long can you keep up that power?”
Long enough … Noa is in control of a colossal and unknown network; we must remain cautious, Edmon returned. “What are the damages?”
“Right…” Noa cleared her throat and straightened, trying to regain a semblance of dignity in reporting their current position. “There is significant internal harm to many sections of the Network due to the corrupting crystal-like substance that is still eating away at the infrastructure.”
Her crescent moon irises tilted to a specific place, showing fractured runes that were on the fritz. “Also, what appears to be a third-party’s involvement has ruined much of the weapon I suspect your allies were concerned about … Unless, were you working with another group to assault many integral parts of the architecture?”
“A third party?” Tiffany growled, small head tilting to look at Lexi’s somber examination of Serris. “It must be from the Covenant … Sar'ollaz operating from the shadows.”
Likely, but clearly Lexi and Serris were meant to be used as fodder, perhaps even as a means to put Sar'ollaz in a stronger position toward the Empress since they could have easily died in this encounter. It isn’t to the point of plotting against her but maneuvering us into a place where we could be in debt to him for losing his pawns.
Tiffany grunted. “I respect the effort; I would do the same.”
Edmon shook his head, still maintaining the corrupting energy; if he released it, he’d be able to move unencumbered, yet he needed to be sure Noa was on their side. “I expect you cannot tell who or what did it?”
Her sad gaze drifted to his feet. “No, High Lord … Mila has done more harm to the Network herself than all parties involved, it seems. I’ve stopped most of the primary issues and tempered the snow apparatus, but it will take a few days for the frost to melt.”
She turned his attention to the still decaying body and burrowed hole he’d created at the end of the hallway. “Umm … High Lord, I ran the numbers before Mila flushed much of the database; she was so frustrated and distracted because the strength and type of force you used shouldn’t have been enough to overcome the defenses.”
“Mmh,” Tiffany said, stiffly walking her straw figuring to stand beside Edmon, “are you saying she could have killed us if she weren’t distracted?”
Noa’s lips tightened, black locks shifting against her shoulders while shaking her head. “I can’t be certain, but what I do know is that High Lord Edmon’s attack wouldn’t have penetrated the bulwark to this degree had not another alien power weakened the defenses. Mila was so agitated because this entity or entities knew the runic language—perhaps even to a greater degree than she—they somehow knew precisely how to evade the sensors.”
Reaching his limit, Edmon released Defiling Black Diamond and felt a massive weight lift off his shoulders; he shouldn't have been able to use such a skill had not Milthren tapped into it for him. Azalea, did you sense anyone else here?
“No. Not a whisper,” she replied, her mental voice unable to restrain the tiredness she attempted to mask.
He turned his attention to his exhausted group; only the Quen’Talrat Elite Warriors retained enough stamina to keep going, given how large of a pool they naturally had. Melia’Ia—an Elite Defender under his jurisdiction—swiftly regenerated her energy due to powerful mitigation passives to outlast her enemies.
A frown touched Edmon’s lips under his helmet. “Noa, do you intend to serve the Empress?”
Noa’s eyes widened, vision darting up with conviction in her voice. “Yes.”
“Why?” Edmon pushed.
“Edmon…” Tiffany growled.
I need a clear answer.
Everyone shifted to look at the Runic A.I. as she took a deep breath, hands tightening against her stomach, and a hollow note entered her voice. “For nearly a century, I slowly decayed in solitude … All I had were my own thoughts and self-doubt … Locked in a war I could never win.”
A solemn smile touched her downcast eyes. “It was suffocating, and when the first creatures I could talk to entered … I learned of my father’s death … and I felt destroyed … broken. I’d failed my purpose, yet instead of rebuking me in my weakness, Finila found me and wished to share her own pain … I am broken, but the Empress accepted me.”
Her focus rose, and Edmon could see hope in Noa’s shimmering irises. “Mila knew exiling me was worse than death—the loneliness was crushing—and there were times I wished I was dead, but … I cannot take my own life. It came in waves nonetheless, and my weakness only haunted me. Empress Elinor saved me from myself, and by trusting her, I am once again in the place my father intended … fulfilling my purpose.”
Edmon wanted to doubt her, yet every twitch of her pained expression and tone showed sincerity. “Is that your end goal … to simply serve the Empress?” he asked, but she didn’t give the response he expected.
“No,” her smile softened, looking down at her human hands and Nalvean scales. “Empress Elinor has told me to fight for something more than just what my purpose was … to become better for the Empire in my own unique way, and that … is more than I ever anticipated to hear. I want to be more than a Network Overlord Administrator … I want to live up to her expectations … surpass them for her.”
“Beautiful,” Tiffany sniffed, likely actually crying. “I love happy endings; to live your life for the Empress is such a jubilant ending!”
A small puff of mist exited Edmon’s faceguard. “Has the danger passed?”
Noa rubbed her palms against her cheeks. “Yes, High Lord Edmon … Although I am unsure where Mila has gone, I suspect she transferred her consciousness to one of her battle units.”
“We’ll send out search parties once we return,” Edmon said, content by Noa’s addition.
He looked up at the gray-furred twenty-three-foot tall Quen’Talrat Commander. “Amra’Cora, have those that can carry the exhausted back to Nethermore…”
“Ah-ahem, H-High Lord Edmon?”
Edmon’s expression tightened upon shifting to view Jumi’calro tentatively scooting closer. “Yes?”
“Can I stay and … and study this a while longer? There are so many things to consider; I’m just … I’m enthralled by the majesty of this place!”
A low rumble shook in his throat. “Noa…”
“Yes?”
“Watch him and give me the rest of your report on the way out.”
Noa’s forehead creased, glowing irises drifting to the Nalvean boy’s sharp teeth that flashed in an awkward and excited grin. “Erm … High Lord Edmon, I cannot understand him … unlike Finila and Giliri.”
It was a lapse in memory that made Edmon chide himself for. “Right … Just watch him, and Jumi’calro … Don’t touch or change anything.”
“Yes! Yes! I will find answers, Lord Edmon—eh, for the Empress! Yes!”
Tiffany…
“Yes, I know,” she mumbled, glaring up at the Nalvean as he hurried to scan the flashing and changing runes. “I’ll prepare a binding ritual so he can’t betray Elinor.”
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Edmon walked back through the path they’d burrowed into the mountain, Noa seemingly able to transmit herself to even the damaged areas with the full support of the runic network.
The intimidating and powerful metallic apes that Mila designed were unfortunately locked to a specific encryption-like key to operate; luckily, that didn’t translate to the on or off switch, but at this point, they were glorified wasted space and would need to be hauled back into their storage areas.
In fact, many systems were utterly foreign to Noa, but the important ones for maintaining and keeping the system in operation were all in workable order; energy was bleeding out of areas that would need to be investigated, yet that was for another time.
Currently, they had a colossal security breach—of their own creation—that needed to be patched and guarded.
At the same time, whoever had aided them was skilled enough to evade Violet’s detection, which was their third most potent sensory unit behind her mother and Sari’aél, both of which were not available; it may not stop the Covenant member, but it put his mind at ease to have at least some form of protection in place.
To Tiffany’s annoyance, it appeared there was a secondary rot in the powerful Quen’Talrat body Mila had crafted, which the A.I. activated herself once abandoning the vessel; clearly, she didn’t want Noa or them learning anything from the remains. It impressed Edmon how much the rogue A.I. had prepared plans within plans if she was beaten, not by them but the mysterious figure, likely a member of The Covenant.
They’d only met seven of the group, making six a mystery, yet from what Tiffany said, they weren’t to be underestimated, and if Baxter was their weakest, it showed the colossal power the cryptic association boasted.
After Edmon brought up the topic of the snow virus to the straw woman, she interrupted the ritual to secure a sample to analyze, and upon returning, she reported the virus hidden in the powder hadn’t the time to mutate to the point of harming anything but creatures with a poor immune response.
Lamentably, Lexi’s race seemed to fall into that category; the blob of gelatin seemed to have contracted an illness from the snow, and Tiffany released her control over the doll to prepare to receive Violet, Serris, Sari’aél, and Lexi.
Upon reaching the final patch of inner hallways in their rise to the crevice’s mouth, Edmon lingered behind to listen to Noa’s full report as the others made their way to Nethermore and Tiffany explained the situation to the Empress.
Overall, most of the network Noa knew was gone; base functions remained the same, yet it had expanded to such a degree, and many places had their power connections severed by either Sar'ollaz’s agent or Mila herself.
It would take time to investigate the maze-like matrix running through the sierra, which he’d mainly leave to Noa. He was still needed for bolstering Nethermore’s defenses, and Jumi’calro’s increased knowledge from the A.I. would hasten the restoration.
Edmon climbed to the hole’s entrance once completing the report, Milthren gripped tightly in his hand; it wouldn’t leave until he could return it to the Seraph.
A sharp wind blew against him as he looked across the valley of the titanic snow-coated city that was his Empress’ home, and the lingering emotions of Milthren’s test caused his jaw to lock; in the safety of solitude from any other in the Nexus, unwanted thoughts played inside his mind.
Is Elinor’s father still inside me … Am I just half of the picture, and we’ll eventually merge? Is it the same for Tiffany? How will that affect her … Affect Elinor? Milthren, will Tiffany and I weaken our Empress … If so, what can we even do about it?
The only answer he received was her melancholy arms holding him from the back; it was neither confirmation nor refutation but a sober realization that just as Noa was broken, so too were Tiffany and him.
His glowing blue irises drifted to the divine weapon he held, and there was regret in his heart; Sari’aél was right to warn him of the price in using Milthren. It was a tool meant for creatures such as the Seraph.
She’d granted him the power he needed; Milthren calculated precisely how much the Covenant member that aided them would help and responded in kind to draw out exactly how much strength was required to fulfill his wishes, yet the price had been a hollowing realization in his soul he couldn’t escape.
Looking back at the first time he’d awoken, a bitter smile moved his lips. What doesn’t destroy you leaves you broken instead. Is that right, Edmon? I am Elinor’s defense, yet inside me is a poison that could hurt her worse than any blow … I can’t let her know, and hiding this from her feels like treason in itself … but I am her shield, and I must protect her… even from her father.
Stepping into the thick snow, he made his way back to his Empress.
* * *
Elinor took in Tiffany’s report while watching the collapsing heavens lighten shockingly fast; a sharp shift in atmospheric conditions seemed to be pushing the clouds to the east to Ri’bot and Ques’ká lands.
Camellia soon entered the Nexus’ range, and saliva entered Elinor’s throat; she could feel the damage to her unconscious angel before the girl gave her diagnosis to the attentive Witch, preparing to receive the woman.
Tight fingers held against her lap, Elinor looked in the direction of the eldest spider sister. She’s burned, and … Tiffany, is Camellia saying Sari’aél feels almost … human?
“Mmh,” Tiffany groaned, instructing Luisina to be ready to offer a small degree of medical aid. “I wouldn’t say that, but I can give you a more direct answer once I have her before me. Also, I fear Luisina and what restorative rituals I can use will not be nearly enough to return her to consciousness. We will see.”
Elinor’s left arm rose to press a thumb against her lips, glaring at the clearing veil while retreating into her own thoughts. We have so many things to explore and repair … So many broken things; the potential is so great, though.
She took a long breath and adopted a small smile, vision drifting in the Nalvean girls’ direction; they snapped to attention upon noticing her gaze. Fini, Giliri, the two of you can make your way back to … Hmm, she paused, realizing she hadn’t designated a name for the place yet beyond the mountain range. What should I call this runic underground?
She was asking herself aloud, but Finila responded in a bright voice, eager to spend more time with the A.I. “What about Antiquity?”
He-he-he, Elinor chuckled at the suggestion. That’s an odd name for a facility filled with ancient artifacts… She trailed off, realizing it wasn't all that off by brand, but sounded strange on the tongue.
“I suppose,” Fini mumbled, vision falling as her scales colored, but Elinor knew she thought it was still a fine choice.
Giliri grinned. “Oh, what about Life of Dead Things!”
Elinor lifted an eyebrow at the suggestion. Hmm … It is Noa’s home, so why don’t you go and see if she has any input on the name.
It was an excellent way to help strengthen their bond to the A.I. and give something more for Fini to connect with the solitary creature.
Fini’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, I love that idea, Empress! C’mon, Giliri, let’s go!”
“I’m coming…” she mumbled, still going through name suggestions in her head.
Leave the door open, Elinor instructed as they went, bringing her hands back to her lap.
“Yes, Empress!” they responded in unison, arguing about potential propositions.
Esmeralda, Valerie, and Theresa stood around the back of her throne if she required anything; the Witch and two Songweavers were having an uncomfortable conversation with the unusual teenage girl about her macabre interests, which included dissection, and Esmeralda didn’t spare details about her work with Tiffany.
Ramuk remained nearby, alert for any danger that might try to assault her, but at this point, Elinor figured there wasn’t much chance of an attack. It was possible Mila would charge straight for her, but considering the profile Tiffany gave of the A.I., she figured the runic creature would sink into the shadows to rebuild.
Still, Tiffany sent out an army of Unintelligent Undead to scour the mountains and valley for the silver ape vessel she was likely using. They were only suitable for sensory methods at this point, but they just needed to track her path if found, and the undead would return if discovering the A.I.’s location; the units worked in pairs for the second to tail Mila.
Considering all her Intelligent detachments, Elinor’s wandering gaze fixated on the north; Quin and Valdar were making their way through the mountain range to the old Quen’Talrat homeland to find her followers. Naturally, the blizzard hampered their progress when living Ri’bot traveled with them.
A little to the southwest, and outside her sharper location aptitude, was Castella, staying attached to Stateswoman Lukuroha and Aluix; the Argent Dawn would still be trekking across the valley and should have escaped most of the storm.
Emelina’s path along the Wandering River had slowed due to the blizzard, yet she should still make it back to Nethermore before the end of the day.
Garu hadn’t left the valley, nearing Angélica’s position; the Sharpshooter ex-Colombian military woman was still performing her Maid’s duty to Violet, keeping watch over the Maw.
Beyond Elinor’s ability to properly assess distances were Klaus and Voukey, while Iris was entirely a mystery, presumably at the Nalvean southern border states.
She was beginning to have groups spaced all across the land, and progress was being made, yet every time Elinor felt she was getting a grip on things, more was around the corner to complicate her plans. I need time and more specialists to better utilize this city … manpower. Basically, I need to make another trip to the mine, but first…
Prompting her Thélméthra throne, Elinor communicated to the three Maids and Quen’Talrat guard. We’ll be going to the basement to check on Sari’aél.
Without words, they followed; of course, Esmeralda was still rather entertained by trying to make Valerie and Theresa squirm.
Valerie was terrible at hiding her aversion to the detailed studies the Witch was performing at Tiffany’s command, while Theresa was far more controlled at hiding her distaste for the subject.
Making it to the elevator, Elinor found it already returned by the Nalvean girls; they were becoming proficient at operating the devices.
To Valerie’s annoyance, once again, Esmerelda was the first to reach the small crystal; unlike the other Maids, the Witch seemed to enjoy poking her coworkers' buttons. It was a new kind of entertainment Elinor watched play out that helped distract her.
It didn’t take long to reach the third basement level, where Tiffany had set up shop in several large rooms; most of the colossal doors were currently closed off, likely in case any rebellious children grew brave enough to try and sneak down here.
Arriving at an open one with two skeletal Quen’Talrat on-guard, Elinor studied the mostly empty but clean space.
“Welcome,” Tiffany said, absently examining a ritual she’d seemingly just finished crafting; an excited Luisina was by her side, focused on the violet flowers in the center. “I’m currently about to attempt to finish this transmutation.”
For? Elinor questioned, glancing to the side as Ramuk took up a guard position in front of the doorway.
“For me to heal more!” Luisina happily replied. “I’ll be able to help so…”
“No, Luisina,” Tiffany crisply interjected, making the girl’s smile turn forced, “this will not help you ‘heal’ more … It will simply mitigate some of the side effects, and poorly at this point. Until we can pump it into your veins through an IV and I’ve perfected the proper infusion materials and process—the potency—ugh, it’s trash made as a tea.”
“Eh-heh, but it will help a bit!” Luisina encouraged, retaining hope.
“Hardly…”
Elinor waited as she performed the ceremony, and not long after, Antonietta entered the room with a portable cart holding tea ingredients; the Head Cook took the slightly burnt flowers and crushed them into the mix that Tiffany heated.
However, the show was soon swept away from Elinor’s mind when Camellia rushed through the door, Ramuk making way for her; it was hard seeing the glorious angel in such a state.
Sari’aél’s elegant wings were missing a significant number of feathers, and what remained were burned, mostly blackened; not just her feathers, but the unconscious woman’s skin was blistered and red.
A frown touched Elinor’s lips when Aileen came running in after, tears in the twelve-year-old Maid’s eyes; no one had told her, but the girl likely felt her nearing and saw the woman’s state as Camellia darted through the entrance hall.
“Is she going to be okay? What happened to Sari’aél?” she cried.
Theresa moved to comfort her.
Well? Elinor asked as Tiffany’s analytical orange flames surrounded the heavenly being; everyone’s gaze was on the fallen Seraph.
“Hmm … I’ve never studied Sari’aél’s physiology before this, but she’s not Undead like the rest of us … I can’t say how she’ll do—it’s far out of my league—yet we will try what we can.”
Elinor nodded, and Luisina drank the tea before holding up her palms for sparkling purple lights to condense into butterflies that would carry the girl’s healing projections to land on the angel’s damaged skin.
Everyone held their breath, and a lilac aura surrounded the Seraph; not a feather returned to her wings, yet most of the boils and blisters were turned to dust, mending much of her wounds.
A sigh of relief passed through the throng, but to Elinor’s surprise, Tiffany was already mothering Luisina into a silken cot Camellia had made for her, and sure enough, the blackened butterflies returned, injecting poison into the girl’s veins.
In a shockingly short time, Lusina’s face grew sickly, yet there was a smile on her lips. “I just need a—a little time, and then I can…”
“Rest,” Tiffany cut her off, but not soon after, she’d fallen unconscious.
Aileen’s big, concerned eyes darted between the two. “Will they…”
“They’ll be fine,” Theresa soothed. “We should leave Tiffany to work without interruption.”
“Yeah … okay,” Aileen mumbled, Valerie taking the girl back up to the main floor. “Can I visit?”
Elinor responded since the girl’s questioning gaze was on her while being guided out. I’m sure many people will want to help take care of her … Let me think about it.
“Okay…”
It didn’t get better; Violet was in a terrible state, as well, possibly worse than Camellia had been, and Azalea had passed out halfway back, requiring the Quen’Talrat unit to carry her. The middle spider sister just needed more energy, which Elinor could provide, but a fatigue counter prevented her from fully restoring the arachnid; on the other hand, Violet would require some time to heal.
In the end, they’d come out on top, but at a heavy price to her stronger units; Edmon would have protested if he were nearby, given their depleted upper-support, yet they needed more manpower, and she didn’t want to let her Death Energy hit the cap to be wasted.
In addition to Noa being brought into the Empire through this gambit, she’d likely gained quite a bit of experience to be used, and at this point, she had to consider how best to utilize it. Still, the next few days would be centered on recovering from the damage they’d sustained and preparing for the conflict between Sari’aél and Orinvia in a week.
She couldn’t rest, though; her Empire needed to grow, and she was the only one who could accomplish that.