“Addy!”
The sound of the Failures screeching and getting closer, a countless horde based on the innumerable overlapping cries of the creatures, echo within Addy’s ears.
In front of her, her friends look panicked, each one of them speaking frantically. Kaz is looking at her, shouting her name. All those noises coalesce with the screeching as one giant wall of sound.
Above, thunder rumbles. Rain droplets begin to fall once again, slow at first, but they will soon pick up and become a torrent of water. The sound of the thunder is deafening, the raindrops a percussive beat dancing over the noise already happening.
Lightning flashes and her wide eyes are momentarily blind, seeing only searing white, hearing only cacophonous static.
Despite the chilly rain beating down, despite the cold mist still swirling about, she feels hot. Sweat begins to roll down her arms and legs and her heart beats faster, mind racing with thoughts.
Kaz reaches out to her and Addy’s body tenses, knowing that she is going to get shaken, to get yelled at.
Addy’s mind swims with thoughts unbidden, so full that she feels like it might explode. This happened back during the first expedition when the attack happened and she didn’t know what was happening. It happens sometimes when too many things go wrong back home, or when her students are just too loud, or when something suddenly changes.
Usually it just makes everyone else upset.
But the fact that it has happened before doesn’t make it easier. Her thoughts swirl as a giant mess of images and words and sounds:
Oh no oh no oh there are so many of those thingers and everything is so loud and things are going too fast and I can’t think right calm down calm can’t calm no calm please don’t yell at me I’m sorry I just I need to breathe what do I do can I tell them that he was the Kemartirh the actual deity maybe he wasn’t maybe that’s not true maybe it’s a nickname or that doesn’t make sense how could why is the thunder so loud I can’t hear to think Kaz is going to be mad at me please don’t yell–
Kaz’s hand gently touches her shoulder, cool and calming. Kaz doesn’t yell, doesn’t scream, doesn’t look at her like she’s crazy. Instead, she looks at Addy with understanding, with empathy, and says:
“Aderyn, it’s going to be alright. But I need your help. Is that alright?”
Surprised by Kaz’s gentle reaction, the feelings of frantic dread balloon–then immediately begin to deflate. My help? Addy thinks, beginning to calm down. Her mind, grateful to have something to focus on, pushes back against all the overstimulation and worries.
“What can I do?” Addy asks, nodding a bit.
Kaz smiles a little and explains, “There are a lot of those Failures coming. We’re going to have to fight. Any help you can provide is good, but more importantly, I need you to find a way to escape for everyone. You know more about this city than any of the rest of us. If you can get a building to open that we can barricade, or can find a path, or something that isn’t us just standing out here in the open. Do you understand?”
Addy nods more, licking her lips a little. “Escape route, got it,” she says. She looks up, seeing that everyone is staring at her, looking a bit worried, but more resolute than anything. It is reassuring.
“Do your thing, Friend Addy; we will protect you,” Dahlia says.
The others all nod in agreement.
As the rain begins to fall, the mist dissipates slightly, showing the first of the waves of Failures inching toward the group from all sides: Humanoid bodies distended oddly, heavy claws and talons, and the same dead eyes as Kemartirh, though there is little to no life, no intelligence that shows through in these eyes. Unlike the somewhat more human-like Failures at the manor, there is no pretense with these, as their mouths are wide, chins split down the middle to open farther than is humanly possible, showing rows upon rows of serrated teeth and the barbed mandibles sticking out, glistening with black ichor as they twitch and chitter eagerly.
“Well,” Kaz begins as she steps forward and draws her sword. “Let’s earn that coin and kill some monsters.”
Felix chuckles and says, “If we survive, I’ll consider a raise for those who persist.”
Wren and Cashew glance at one another.
“Bet I live more than you do,” Cashew says. “Hundred gold.”
“You’re on!” Wren calls back.
Demy feels a tug on the leg of his pants. He looks down only to see Dahlia’s eyes staring back.
“Wolf Friend Demy?” She begins.
“Yeah?” He prompts, a bit confused.
“May I ride you into battle?” She asks.
He grins, canines elongating wolfishly as he eagerly agrees, “Absolutely!”
The creatures screech in their hideous tandem voices, human and not, the sentiment of primal hunger evident even without the power of word to enforce meaning.
The clouds break as both deluge and violence ensues.
~~~~~~~~~~
They say that time waits for no man, and by the Nine, Cashew takes it to heart. As the first of the Failures charge, Cashew meets them after just a few steps in, his curved blade slicing inward and up, hitting as many organs as inhumanly possible. After all, he’d picked Addy’s brain–a daring feat even by his standards–for the creatures’ bodily makeup. Knowing where to hit is often as important as how hard one hits, but these things have strange vital areas compared to the average person.
Still, Cashew has some theories as to what will hurt the most, and he intends to put those theories to test. And with how badly this thing is screeching as his blade pushes deeper up through its abdomen, finally pushing through the leathery skin near its shoulder, Cashew believes that he’s on the right track.
It snaps at him with its unhinged, split jaws, but he ducks between its legs, jerking the blade as he goes and using it as a fulcrum, throwing the Failure off balance. He pulls a dagger from his cloak with his free hand and begins stabbing, the lacerations rapid and deep, focused on where he knows the hidden organs are. He has to put more effort into each gank than normal due to how unnaturally thick the Failure’s flesh is, but each time he jerks the blade free and sees a gout of black ichor spill out, it spurs on the next puncture.
A few nearby Failures turn to him, moving to assist their ally–or, more likely, to just mindlessly tear Cashew apart. He knows that he’ll have to move soon to avoid being boxed in–
That plan changes quickly as a little blue dot flies between the two creatures and erupts into a plume of blue flame in a deafening explosion. A few limbs fly past Cashew and the Failure, which is quickly bleeding out on its feet, held up by his grip on his sword. The flare of blue and white flame dissipates slightly, leaving behind two charred and still burning creatures, still partially alive but in the process of smoldering to death.
“Gotta make up for lost time at the manor!” Wren calls out. They stand some distance away, one hand burning with moonfire which they use to condensed orbs of explosive power into the approaching crowds of monsters. The other hand glows with an ethereal blue hue, directing the dozen or so illusory copies of Wren to spread out, confusing the monsters as they swipe and slash at the fanciful nothingness.
“Show off!” Cashew yells back, tearing his blades from the Failure and rolling away from a stray swipe, bouncing off toward another lone Failure to eviscerate.
“What can I say, I’m a show-er!” Wren says with a grin. Several Failures rush them, but Wren calmly holds their hands up, both shimmering with energy, before bringing both down quickly. The Failures around them screech out and slam to the ground with deafening thuds, hard enough to shatter fortified bone, as the gravity distorts and inverse within a radius. At the same time, Wren floats above the chaos, eyes glowing as they laugh and resume raining moonfire-death from above.
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Nearby, Dahlia clambers up Demy’s back and wraps her arms around his neck. A half-dozen Failures barrel toward the two, scrabbling on all fours and screeching wildly.
“Hold on,” he tells her.
“Okay,” she replies, holding as tightly as her little fists can.
Demy reaches up and touches the pendant around his neck–the twin moons, Corvega in full, Tryden in crescent. A mirror to Wren’s own, that they made for him before the trip, and infused with a bit of lunar power.
He feels the thrilling pull of the beast, and as he has learned to do as of late, he does not resist it. The transformation is quick, not nearly as violent as it used to be; it seems more fluid, more intentional now.
When the towering, bipedal, black-furred wolf finally stands tall, its crimson eyes hold more of Demy than before. For both halves, man and beast, share a purpose now:
Protect our friends.
Destroy our foes.
A deafening roar escapes Demy as he bounds forward, no longer waiting for the Failures, who had faltered slightly at the sudden change from scruffy, unarmed man to hulking wolf-beast. The first one has no time to react as Demy reaches it, massive claws tearing through the hardened flesh and fortified bone as if they are but a thin slice of meat wrapped around a twig.
The remaining Failures nearby leap up onto the giant wolf, clinging to him as he thrashes. One unluckily finds itself too close to Demy’s jaws and he chomps down, powerful jaw muscles pushing dagger-sized teeth clear through the body. He spits out the remaining chunks of the creature, tongue lolling and making a discontent whine at the taste of the black, ooze-like blood.
A Failure reaches up, trying to get onto Demy’s back, but it is greeted by the unblinking eyes of Dahlia and her small hand, which gently paps it in the face.
The pain is immediate and excruciating. The creature shrieks out and lets go of Demy’s fur, writhing in pain. Its flesh has already decayed into dust by the time it hits the smooth ground, where it continues to spasm and twitch as its body continues to rot, inch by inch.
Another of the Failures finds itself easily grabbed by one of Demy’s gargantuan claws. It screeches in protest as Demy holds onto the one leg he was able to grab with one claw, wrapping his other claw around the creature’s torso. It snaps at his hand with its own jaws, but gets only a maw full of fur as he begins to pull it apart, first tearing one leg off then the other in slow, painful sequence. It is still alive when his jaws clamp down over its head, but by the time he rips its arms free and tosses them aside, it is very much already dead.
The remaining two take their chance and dig their claws deep into Demy’s thick fur. He barks out in pain, dropping to all fours as he kicks and bucks, trying to throw them off, but they hold on for literal life.
“Bad,” Dahlia says simply, peering through the forest of coarse hair at one of the creatures. She breathes in and then blows into its face, her breath full of yellow spores. Layers of mold and fungus immediately begin to grow across its flesh, rupturing its eyes as mushrooms claim the sockets, sheafs of mold growing across its distended jaws. It only takes a few moments for the spores to reach the Failure’s brain and it stiffens, spasming frantically–before leaping on its former companion. The two tumble off, tearing one another apart as Dahlia watches and Demy grows calm.
“Fungi may not be able to die in a way that matters, but you can,” she says flatly.
She turns her attention to Demy’s wounds, which are surprisingly deep from the Failures’ powerful claws. “I’ll fix that,” she says gently and places her hands over the gashes; they glow faintly with a sickly green light, which causes the punctures to quickly scab over and, moments later, the scabs fall off, revealing unharmed skin beneath.
Demy responds by looking back and licking Dahlia across the face. She smiles and, without hesitation, licks him back.
He lets out an eager howl, which she mimics before holding on tightly to his fur once again. With speed that belies his size, he sprints on all fours toward the nearest group of Failures.
Kaz stands her ground in front of several of the Failures, sword at the ready, shield held out. She knows that Addy, somewhere behind her, needs time, and she is going to make sure that Addy gets it.
One of the creatures steps forward, crossing the intangible barrier of her prayer of challenge. The others start forward, but are pushed back forcefully, still held in thralled anticipation of facing down the holy warrior.
“You will fight me,” Kaz commands. “And you will do so with honor, no matter what in the names of the Nine you are!”
Her opponent, the first of many, hurls itself at her. She buffets it back with her shield, harrying it over and over. In the fractions of a second when its guard is down, her blade swings, glowing with radiant power as it takes off chunk after chunk of flesh.
Kaz knows that this battleground will be a matter of attrition and she makes sure not to expend even one ounce of unneeded energy, to fight as cautiously and reliably as possible. No openings on her part, no risks taken, just a consistent and constant rebuttal to the monster in her personal arena. It dies gradually, efficiently, finally falling to the ground in a heap of black ichor.
She flicks the goop off her blade and motions for the next creature.
“Next!” She commands.
It charges in at her while the others just stumble back impotently as the barrier holds fast.
This one dies the same.
They all die the same.
“Run command prompt: Complete Global Saturation!” Addy suddenly shouts out from behind Kaz.
Bolt after bolt of volatile energy shoots into the crowd of Failures, blasting off limbs and through bodies like stones through parchment. A pair of CAMs, CAM-01 and CAM-02, flank Addy and hurl explosive payloads rapidly, causing damage not only to the ranks of creatures but also to the very terrain itself, sending shrapnel and debris flying and leaving craters at the impact sites.
A trio of UNAs zip overhead, outfitted with rapid-fire weapon attachments that pepper the crowds as they circle. Each shot has a fraction of the power of the mortar blasts, but they still pack enough power to punch holes in the hardy monstrosities.
The creatures that remain intact enough to retaliate begin charging at Addy, who stands her ground, unafraid. Her trust is rewarded by Kaz, who slides between her and the mob, sending out her challenge aura as far as it can go, without reaching Addy and the CAMs.
“You fight me, demons!” Kaz growls through bared teeth.
One at a time, they charge and break upon her armaments while the others can only wait their turn as they are slowly whittled down by Addy’s artificial battalion.
The streets of the city run black with ichor as the rain continues to fall.
~~~~~~~~~~
Addy is focused on the five different windows displayed on her visor, watching her constructs cut down the Failures, when a small beep sounds in her ear and the chat icon pops up in the corner of her virtual screen.
“It seems you have upset them,” Engel says coolly in her ear.
“Miss Engel!” Addy says in surprise. “Is miss–”
“That is fine,” Engel says off-handedly.
“Why did you send us here? This was a trap,” Addy says sadly, feeling betrayed.
“Me? My dear, I have not spoken to you since you were at the manor,” Engel says.
“What? But you left a new waypoint–” Addy begins.
Engel hums in some combination of amusement and bemusement, though Addy isn’t sure how much of each. “Me? What makes you think I sent it?”
“Well, you’re the only other person who knows how to use Monteith technology. I just thought…” Addy trails off, frowning as realization dawns on her. “There are others?”
“More than a few, my dear. Less than a dozen,” Engel says coyly. “It seems you have upset them. They will send the Failures until you are dead, you are aware.”
Addy thinks of Kaz’s words and shakes her head. “I can’t let my friends die here. What can I do? Can you help?”
Engel hums, seemingly lost in thought. “Near you there is a metro, though it is unpowered. You will have to figure out how to route power to it, but if you do, you and your friends will be able to escape. It should bring you directly here, as well.”
“Bring us where? To the GIX? Is that where you are?” Addy asks, intensely curious now.
The chat ends, but Addy sees a waypoint indicator pop up in her field of vision, pointing her toward a nearby staircase leading underground.
“UNA-01, -02, -03, CAM-01, -02, engage autopilot systems,” Addy says quickly before bounding off toward the waypoint. With literal tunnel vision, she doesn’t notice the stray Failure pouncing at her from the side until it is almost upon her.
“Horsefeathers!” She shouts in surprise, holding her arms up reactively to defend herself.
There is a flash of light as an elegant-looking saber slashes through the creature’s neck, lopping its head neatly off its shoulders. Felix catches it before it can fall to the ground, holding it to the side as he raises an eyebrow at Addy.
“Going somewhere, Professor Rhys?”
“Professor Thorburn!” Addy exclaims in surprised relief. “Okay so Engel called and it was really her this time because I could hear her voice and she sounded like I remember so it probably was actually her I think but the waypoint that got added the other day wasn’t actually from here it was from someone else which means that there is someone else who can use this technology and I have some thoughts about who that might be but for right now she said that there is a metro whatever that is that I need to get to and route the auxiliary power to so that way we can use it to escape and it’s over there down those steps!”
Felix stares at her for a moment. His hand holding the head glows with violet energy, which transfers to the severed cranium. He hurls it toward an incoming Failure, which it impacts and explodes upon, sending shrapnel of bone and teeth throughout the poor creature.
“Allow me to escort you, then,” he says, offering a wry smile.
“Well beans!” Addy says excitedly. She takes off once again, Felix following close behind.