Audron’s lack of support with the horror below the city left me considerably irritated. I understood there were rules and regulations he was bound by. Rules he bent by revealing his presence prematurely to me when his own subordinate had messed with the System Kiosk and sold me a weapon that nearly got Kaia, Junipher, and myself killed. A weapon, on a side note, that I wish we had brought with us.
If the thing beneath our feet was as dangerous as everyone was making it out to be, I felt that would certainly constitute a justifiable breach in the protocols he was bound to. I was silently mulling all of this over, as my people retreated to the tunnel entrances the Dwarves had dug out and began dividing themselves up into individual Raid groups based on rank, class, and level.
My irritation fled when the System-wide notification of another Manifestation appeared, along with a quest for all capable beings to remove it. I understood then, that the infinitely more powerful Administrator must have confidence that my people were capable of the task before them. While lost ruminating in my own thoughts I felt Junipher lightly squeeze my arm where her had rested on it.
“Karl, look.” She pointed a green, bark-covered hand to the sky when she’d gotten my attention.
I looked to where she pointed and gasped slightly. In the distance, several bright sparks of light were descending directly towards the city behind us. At the current distance I wasn’t sure if they were ships or missiles, though I was betting on the former.
“Eli, John, Allison, David. Eyes to the skies, we’ve got incoming, possibly an attack, but I don’t think so. All the same, be ready.”
Everyone acknowledged his traffic, Eli responded directly, “Aye, Sir. I’ve already sent a cohort back to the city just in case. We’ve about an hour before the next phase of our attack commences.”
“And the Raid leaves in half that.”
“It does, don’t worry about them, Sir, they know what they’re doing. Far more than we do.”
“You’re right, oh, look, they’re slowing.”
“Copy, looks like ships. They’re looking for a landing spot, and… yeap, headed to the airport.”
Seeing where they were headed I brought Allison in directly on the conversation with Eli, “Allison, our visitors seem to be landing at Sky Harbor. I assume you’ll be the first to make contact. Don’t screw it up.”
I could hear the irritation in her response, “Right, thanks for the pep talk.”
“Let’s focus on our own task, Eli.”
“Fifty-Three minutes. Out.”
Junipher looked at me with her big loving black eyes, a thin smile on her face, “If they wanted to fight us, they would have just done a fly-by. I would assume that every being in space is aware of the Manifestations, or as you call them, Eldritch Horrors. If you are strong enough, the Old God’s minions are worth quite a lot. Just landing a single hit on one that is eventually defeated can gain someone of our rank several levels.”
“So all those ships, those are people wanting to get in on the action then?”
“Certainly, though there’s more to it.”, she didn’t elaborate, only letting her smile widen further.
“You said I’m important, am I that important?”
“Well, to me, of course you are!” She giggled.
I kissed her hard before continuing, “You know what I mean.”
In turn, she kissed me lightly before responding, “Yes, you are important, Karl. You are Earth’s first Reaper. You command one of its most successful settlements. You’ve not only completed one of the System’s early Challenges, you co-opted the bastard to work for you. And every being hanging in the depths of space around your solar system is watching everything you do. They were probably on the verge of starting an interstellar war deciding who would be the first to attempt to gain your favor.”
“Really?”
“Yes, you think the Administrator abandoned you to deal with the situation alone, he was probably the only thing preventing an uncontrollable horde of men and women of all shapes, sizes, and inclination from descending on your planet and using the Manifestation as an excuse for seizing it from you.”
I looked at her a bit stunned. She’d never been so blunt before. And the amount of information she was dumping on me was a little overwhelming. She took my silence as an excuse to nuzzle her cheek into my neck, the pleasant smelling flowers that made up her hair tickling my nose as she did so.
The sound of gravel crunching underfoot snapped us from our reverie. Junipher pressed off of my shoulder to look around me as I turned my head in the direction of the approaching noise. Who stood outside the cracked wall of the store we had retreated to to wait until the next phase of our attack was not who either of us were expecting.
“You should listen to your mate, Mr. Brunette. She is wise beyond her years.”
[Deja Vu] has increased by 1 level…
[Deja Vu] has increased by 1 level…
[Deja Vu] has increased by 1 level…
My vision spun as the speed of the notifications increased. Standing in front of me was a woman of the same species as the one I had seen in my vision at the Grove. The same people that were destined to wipe us from the planet, if my vision were allowed to come true. Though the visions that followed this time were not all doom and gloom.
The woman had four arms attached to a petite framed torso with small breasts. She stood just short of six feet tall, clad in a formal white and gold tunic. Aside from the red hued skin, almost like the worst sunburn I’d ever received, and the four arms, she had a rather normal, albeit attractively shaped face. Golden colored eyes and full lips framed by silky black hair that reached her upper shoulders.
In the visions that came of her, the majority involved us fighting together against an onslaught of enemies, both System generated and sentient. Sometimes Junipher was with us, sometimes not. Other times there were others fighting alongside us. Occasionally I fought against the woman that stood before me. Sometimes she killed me, sometimes I killed her, though mostly, we were allies. Sometimes more.
When the wave of visions and notifications ceased, I found myself face down on my hands and knees, bile dripping from my mouth to form a pool on the ground inches from my nose. Junipher was at my side, rage filled eyes locked on the red woman who stood looking to the side in embarrassment, arms locked behind her as if in a position of parade rest. I realized she was mumbling to herself as I slowly found my feet again.
“Jeesh, I’ve never had a man react so unpleasantly to my presence before! Am I that disgusting to look at!?” She was just barely audible to my perception. I assumed she was speaking directly with her VPA. Or she’s just insane.
Junipher looked at me with worry. I gave her a reassuring glance, dusted myself off, and returned my attention to the strangely alluring woman, “Uh, sorry, miss?”
She looked at me quickly, seemingly realizing she was talking to herself, then reached out to take my offered hand. “Persephone. I uh, didn’t intend to intrude. Or, uh… yeah. I’m from the Council of Reapers. I was sent with an associate to make contact with you and to warn you of several factions within the greater Verse plotting to remove you from, well, existence. I apologize if my sudden appearance displeased you.” She looked pointedly at the puddle of vomit on the ground between us, then attempted to school her expressions with a forced smile.
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When she announced herself, Junipher’s demeanor shifted instantly. While she wasn’t fully relaxed, I could tell she wasn’t about to shove her spear through the woman’s chest. She looked like she wanted to say something, though she remained silent for the moment.
“It wasn’t exactly your presence that did that.” I waved at my emptied stomach contents, then spoke directly to Junipher, “That was the most intense activation.”
“What did you see, love?”
I looked at Persephone, “A lot. Right now, it’s not important. What can I do for you? You mentioned a Council of some kind? And a threat on my very existence.” I spoke the last with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, well, the Verse at large doesn’t like the existence of us Reapers. We can be, at times, incredibly unstable. You having a precog type Skill makes you a greater perceived threat in general.”
I considered her words carefully before speaking again, “If the Administrator is allowing groups to land on the planet now, should I expect any attempts on my life before I wrap up with what I’m doing here?”
She smiled, an act that was quickly causing my heart to beat in ways only Junipher caused, “Hmm, no, if any agents have landed, they will be in the continent you refer to as Africa. The Taurai I contracted to assist with the Manifestation don’t take assassination contracts, so they will be no threat to you or your people.”
“Then you intend to go after the Horror?”
“I do, I just wanted to introduce myself and my organization. My associate and I determined you would likely find my form more pleasing than his, I’m sorry if we were mistaken or offended you in any way.”
“Uh, you are quite… uh… lovely. I just had a Skill activation that went… poorly.”
Something in her eyes shifted, and her body posture changed with it, “Good, if you’ll excuse me, I think my assigned Raid group is waiting for me. It was good making your acquaintance. Gods willing, we will speak again after this is all done.”
With that she spun on her heel, doing an about face, then broke into a run that flipped the hem of her tunic up just high enough to reveal a very pert, tight ass. The sight left me with something of an uncomfortable pressure in the crotch of my pants, before I could get it under control Junipher quipped impishly at my bulging discomfort.
“She is quite lovely. Although, if you bed her before Freya you might regret it.”
I shot her a look of shocked offense, “I would never! You are the only thing I plan to bed.”
I leaned in to kiss her again, but she pressed a finger to my lips with a devious smile, “We have only a few minutes bef-”
The ground shook, followed by a rumbling sound in the distance. Soon the battle net was alive with reports of enemy fortifications collapsing, all waiting for the order to advance. We stepped out of the building we were sheltering in to see plumes of smoke and dust rising in the distance, just beyond the horizon.
“Well, looks like the sappers did their work well, they should be cleaning up any survivors right now.”
What the Dwarven sappers did basically amounted to tunneling under the forts, locating their main structural foundations, planting some kind of exotic explosive on them and reducing them to giant sinkholes. They would currently be swarming up to kill or capture anyone still living on the surface. The only fort remaining, the one we currently faced, was the one that the Horror had prevented Gregor from reaching.
Which brought us to the next part of our plan. A frontal assault from my group supported by the Legion. John’s armor company would move in from the northern flank, supported by a smoke screen launched intermittently from his artillery pieces. We would all still be at the mercy of the massive enemy guns, though advancing through the smoke cover would give us a better chance to not get murdered outright. Once this fort fell, the only thing left would be to locate and kill the King himself. And seize his city core, of course.
James “King” Wakefield, Slave Master of the Arizonas, Street Fighter of the Hot Valley (A) Lvl 15
James stepped out of his mansion as four of his fortifications finished sinking into the landscape, dust and debris from the collapsing rubble rising slowly into the air. A trail of bodies led out of his compound marking the passage of his former business partner. The Cartel man and his people could be seen driving away with the last of their product in several of the remaining tractor trailers headed to the southwest. Away from the thousands of angry men and women bearing down on what was left of Litchfield Park.
When he checked the status of the fortifications he owned he was surprised to find one still standing. The last bastion to a failed empire struggling to remain standing against overwhelming odds. As he stared off in the distance the sound of the fort's big guns firing reached his System enhanced hearing.
“Fuck it.” He sighed, then launched into long ground eating strides towards his last fort. He arrived at the back gate just as the first enemy artillery rounds dropped all around him. He hesitated, waiting for the impending earth shattering explosions and was confused when only thick smoke began spreading across the roads leading to the fort.
“KING!” A young man, possibly the fort commander, called down to him from one of the walls.
“WHAT!?” He barked as she jumped up to the wall next to the man. The man flinched and forced himself to stand his ground.
“What do we do?”
“Mother fucker! Get those guns firing!” He grabbed the man by his shirt, fixing him with a menacing glare.
He stuttered in response, “W-we c-c-c-can’t see t-to shoot!”
“Fire into the fucking smoke!” James turned around and began shouting orders to those that remained, “Get them fucking guns firing, shoot into the smoke God damn it!”
The heavy whump of the guns starting to fire reverberated through the walls into his feet. The sound of the heavy explosive rounds exploding deep into the smoke cover followed soon after. As he watched the flashes of light in the distance he noticed half a dozen objects descending from the sky to land out by Sky Harbor airport.
“What the fuck is that?”
The sound of bullets being deflected off the fort force field grabbed his attention. He soon forgot about the strange phenomena as more and more fire was directed at the fort, many of the rounds threatening to overwhelm the shield. Soon, the silhouettes of men and women riding coyotes and mountain lions could be seen skirting the fort just inside the edge of the smoke screen. The big guns of his fort slowly went silent as more of his people manned the fifty caliber machine guns and other lighter mounted weapons systems as firing the larger cannons at such close range was likely suicide. The few mortars he’d gained from the Cartel began firing in sequence, bracketing the empty space between the fort walls and the edge of the smoke screen where the Winslow people had yet to emerge from.
A tank round whistled through the barrier carving a chunk out of one of the parapets behind James. He ducked reflexively then barked at the nearest person he could see, “We need those fucking cannons firing. Get someone up there right now God damn it!”
The young man, barely over eighteen hesitated, “Boss! We can’t hold them out of the fort and fire at the tanks! We don’t have enough people here to run all the equipment!”
“What!? Where the fuck did everyone go!?” He asked in confusion.
The boy looked around for anywhere else to be but here in this moment, “Uh, they left.”
“The fuck!? What you mean!?”
“About half of them left when Darius and Shantel died. We was thinkin’ bout dipping out ourselves til’ you showed up.” The boy looked to the back gate where the possibility of escape beckoned.
James stared at him speechless. He was too stunned to properly process what the boy said. A fireball managed to slip past the failing force field and catch the kid in the chest. His clothes ignited around him and he screamed for help as James just stared. Another young man ran up and doused the boy with water, but he was already dead before his body hit the ground. The man looked at him, yelled something at James he didn’t understand, then ran for the gate.
James watched as his people began running out the rear of the now open fortification. Soon no one was left as he puzzled through why his people had abandoned him. They had it good for so long, it was like a dream come true. Gaining power within the System, he fought his way through all the surrounding gangs, taking out their leaders one by one to consolidate everyone under him. Then Monte showed up representing the Sinoloa Cartel, requesting he help him get slaves to do whatever it was he needed bodies for. James didn’t care, he just knew the man paid well, and so his personal power grew. And that's all that really mattered to James King Wakefield.
Power.
And now, because of one man and his army, all of that power was slipping away right before him.
“Mother fuckers.” He muttered to himself as he realized the sounds of battle had halted leaving the interior of the fort oddly silent.
It was through this silence he heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching him casually from behind. Then a deep, cold voice broke that silence, sending involuntary chills up and down his spine.
“You the one they call King James?”
He turned around, hatred in his eyes as he got his first look at the one they called the Warlord of Winslow. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of plain silver rods that fit perfectly in his fists, “Yeah. You the Warlord?”
The man nodded once shifting into a ready stance.
“Then let’s get this over with.”