by Drew Hayes
More pink gushed from its insides, ruining the flooring. Another blast to finish off the right one, which was unhooking its connected mouth from its now dead cohort. It never had time to finish before her beam hit.
“These’ll liven things up.” Xelas was already moving, acutely aware that the introduction of an unknown factor could spin their plans out of control. She moved so fast, in fact, that Xelas missed what came only half a minute after the monsters were killed.
That’s how long it took for the new flesh to start growing.
Careening down a hall, Darius ducked into an alcove to catch his breath. He set Deacon down, eyes peeled for whoever was cutting down their gang at a rapid clip. They were still a ways off from Tori’s cell—some of the screaming had forced them on a circuitous route. Not knowing what they were up against, Darius couldn’t risk engaging, especially with the boss in tow.
“You need a break already?” Despite his people being roasted and butchered, Deacon was somehow more angry than sad or scared.
“If I’m gassed and need to defend you, we’re as good as done.” A noise caught Darius’s ears: movement, action... was someone fighting? They were directly across from the room with some free weights and chairs, jokingly called “the gym” by everyone here. Was it possible one of the others had survived? “Hang on, we might have backup.”
Darius had only gotten a few steps when Deacon’s hand grabbed his arm. “Absolutely not. Whatever is happening in there is none of our concern. Do your job, bodyguard. Get me to the girl so we can put an end to this.”
While both a professional and a veteran at working for dickheads, Darius did have his limits. Suddenly finding himself fighting for survival stole of lot of the energy he usually dedicated toward patience. Perhaps that was why he snapped up Deacon by the neck and pinned him to the wall.
“Put an end to this? Look around, you egotistical nut. This is over. It’s been over from the moment you convinced us to steal a civilian off the street. Do you think we’re coming back from this? Those screams aren’t just noises. Those are your people! My friends! And it’s your fault we’re in this mess.”
Only... was it? Deacon was ignorant of the rules or blinded by ambition. Darius had neither excuse. He’d known the risks, heard the warnings, and still hadn’t managed to turn Deacon from these tactics. If anyone was responsible for all this, it might very well be Darius himself.
Releasing his grip, the big meta allowed Deacon to drop back to the ground, where he immediately scrambled to his feet and dashed off. Most likely to his death, though there was always the chance he’d wriggle free. Rats had a talent for survival.
With Deacon out of the way, Darius’s attention was drawn back to the noises from the gym. He ripped the door clean off, unveiling a very curious-looking fight. Emory was darting around, avoiding a trio of two-headed nightmare snakes spitting sizzling pink goo. Occasionally, he’d whip a free weight at one, but the damned things could dodge with hideous grace.
Not one to waste time, Darius hefted up the first weight he could find and slammed it down onto the nearest snake head.
It definitely left an impact—cracks along the head were dripping pink goop—however, the blow wasn’t enough to crush the head completely. Given Darius’s size and strength, that said a lot about how durable these things were, as well as how fucked the gang might be. If his strength wasn’t enough, and Emory’s venom would presumably be limited on their anatomy, then this was a bad fight. There was no way to win; they’d just wear down until someone made a mistake.
“Emory, we need to go.” At his words, the monsters seemed to grow more active. Did they understand, or just realize more prey was in the room?
“Tried that. They spray down the exit if I get near. I think they’ve locked in on me as prey.”
The dissolved sections of room made it obvious what that pink stuff did, even if Darius couldn’t see it happening for himself as one sprayed toward Emory. Four of them, two mouths apiece, with only one being a little smashed up. Too many streams. The creatures could cover every angle. This was a fight they couldn’t win, or escape, especially presuming that there were more enemies still to account for—unless these creatures could also create explosions and roast skin.
“I’ve got an idea!” Darius leapt into the room proper, dodging a spray of pink as he arrived at Emory’s side. “Give me your hand, quick!”
Just like a good student, Emory did as instructed. Darius didn’t hesitate. He jerked Emory into a bear-hug, wrapping his sizable heft around the smaller crook. After that, Darius was running. He heard the sounds of the jaws opening while he was still ten feet from the door. The first stream hit as he was crossing through, with a second and third right on its heels. Pain came quickly, his clothes turning to nothing, exposing his flesh. Like most burly metas, Darius was tough on top of being big, something he was counting on to buy them both extra steps.
Unfortunately, one of streams hit his left leg, slowing the run down considerably. Darius could hear the monsters following, slapping and slithering as they gave chase, fresh sprays of pink searing his back. The acid was stronger than he’d expected, a realization that came as his legs began to buckle.
No. They weren’t far enough yet. They needed to get away, to give Emory a head start, a fighting chance. Darius was still trying to push himself forward when his legs suddenly went numb. The goo must have gotten a piece of his spine. Part of Darius wanted to see how much of his back even remained, but he knew it was a sight that would haunt the short remainder of his life.
Legs gone, arms wrapped around a struggling Emory, and monsters drawing close. This was looking bleak. Then came a flash of yellow to his left and squeals of pain from behind.
Glancing back, Darius saw all the monsters sliced up, carved neatly down their centers. Looking forward again, he discovered himself looking up at the form of Xelas. Famous for many reasons, not the least of which was her affiliation to the guild at the center of the Ridge City Riots.
It was all true. The legends, the warnings, the secret cabal patrolling the underground. All of it real, and Darius had ignored the warnings. He was already dead, his body in the process of dissolving from interloper acid. He wasn’t gone just yet, though. There might still be time to save one.
“Please... he’s just a kid. My fault all this happened. I knew. I knew, and I ignored, but he didn’t. He was only starting... didn’t know... my fault. My fault.”
Darius continued to whisper the words as his voice grew hoarse. They slipped from his mouth while Xelas leaned down, chose a precise spot on the skull, and struck. No more words, or pain, as he dropped limply to the ground. Big guy, showing concern for others; this was definitely the one Tori said to spare if they could.
Flipping him over, Xelas revealed another meta, one with serpent-like physical markings. He was scared and panicked, not shocking since a friend of his had just died on top of him. Snap judgment time. They didn’t owe this guy shit, especially considering the circumstances. But Darius had been the one Tori asked be spared, and he’d given his life to save the kid. Logic said the smartest path was to kill him here and get on with the job. Xelas was more than a mere robot, however. She could see past the simple logic, taking into account that Darius had been decent enough that Tori wanted to save him, and that he’d died helping a friend.
Humans talked a lot of crap about love, loyalty, and honor. Most of it was just that, too: pure shit, fantasies to make themselves feel like better people than they were. Every now and then, however, one would actually live up to those lofty ideals, if only for a moment. Seeing those instances was one of Xelas’s favorite parts of being around their kind, watching their own self-serving fiction catalyze into reality. Maybe this guy was worth saving, most likely he wasn’t. That would be up to him to decide, though.
One shot from the mini-injector canon was all it took to knock the new prisoner out. Xelas slung him over her shoulder, preparing to resume the search for Tori. However, getting
positioned took long enough that by the time she was ready to move on, Xelas noticed movement coming from the bisected monster corpses. Specifically, she noticed the new limbs and body parts growing at an incredible rate.
“Oh, fuck me. I just had to pick today to get a pet.” Emory still unconscious on her shoulder, Xelas ran off down the nearest hall, wondering if she’d find a way to warn the others.
Chapter 31
“Sir.”
The aide stood at the door, waiting for permission to enter the office. When Professor Quantum was working, he loathed to be interrupted; however, this was a Priority One message. No wiggle room on these. It had to be brought to a member of the Champions’ Congress. Quorum and Lodestar were out in the field, meaning that only Professor Quantum was immediately on hand.
It took a full two minutes before Professor Quantum looked up from the desk where he was tinkering with some curious device. Silently, he waved the aide in. He didn’t even make eye contact, instead staring at the place where the messenger would stand.
She took the order, striding over and opening the page in her hands. “Sir, there was a wild dimensional breach detected. Seems to have come from Michigan, near the Detroit area. Something interfered with the reading, so we’re having trouble pinpointing the location.”
“Interesting.” That wasn’t just a canned reply. For the first time, Professor Quantum appeared to be paying attention to the conversation. “Our dimension doesn’t experience wild breaches anymore. The most common instances now are metas accidentally creating rips, and Nexus, with the latter considerably outweighing the former.”
The aide’s face paled. “Oh no. Not today. We still haven’t recovered that woman, and now Nexus is on the move?”
“Unlikely. His big displays are more overt. Nexus is like a carrion fly, drawn to the scent of blood.” Professor Quantum considered for a moment longer. “Push some of our resources into searching Detroit, and start moving assets there. I have a hunch that might just be where we find our missing civilian.”
“Yes, sir.” The aide paused, looking at the Priority Three alert also on the page. Technically, this one didn’t require immediate attention, but if she told him now, she could skip going through this again later. “One more thing, probably not related. Some of our monitoring tech caught a message being fired into space less than an hour ago. We couldn’t see what it said, only that one went out.”
“Not many terrestrial devices capable of that. I’ll consider it.” Professor Quantum went back to his project, a not-so-subtle way of ending the conversation.
That was fine by the aide. She was more than ready to leave. It wasn’t even dawn, and this was already shaping into a hell of day.
“Holy crap!”
Morgana spun around to find Arcanicus staring at two hideous monsters. A mound of grasping claws, with a body covered in mouths endlessly opening and closing, one head rising off the back like a scorpion’s tail. A familiar head, at that. It looked like one of the snake creatures, only hacked in half and stuck on top of something even more disgusting.
“Sweet sorcery, that made my heart skip a beat.” Arcanicus gestured and a wall of Bonefire appeared between him and the creatures. It was just in time as the body’s dozen mouths opened, firing streams of pink liquid in every direction. The bits that hit his magic walls sizzled and hissed. Potent acid though it might be, the defenses of a guild councilor were not so easily broken. “Do you think they’re evolving?”
“Adapting would be my guess. Maybe they’re like worms, regrowing a body that’s been cut in half. Only they do it in their own terrible way.” Morgana looked through the flames. The first versions had been the size of normal dogs. These ones were closer to mastiffs. “Burn them to ash. We can’t take chances. Then give Pseudonym the update. These things probably won’t stay in the building for long.”
“Should we adjust the plan? Might not be safe to leave the package for extraction.”
That was a damn good question, one Morgana wished she had a quick answer for. Nexus had, as Nexus often did, fucked things up considerably. They still had dead gang members to put in place, but the tale they’d been spinning was muddled. First, they needed to make sure Tori was safe. After they’d completed the rescue, they could decide how to manage the spin.
Though Morgana didn’t know it, the interlopers had already begun to spill from the building. Much as Ivan wanted to leave them be, knowing that dead creatures outside the building would raise questions, he couldn’t risk one of them escaping into the night. These entities couldn’t last long here—even getting through to this plane of existence was only thanks to Nexus—but they were capable of serious destruction with the time they had.
“Glyph, seal off the back door. Pest Control, get us some eyes. Bahamut, set down the suitcase. You’re with me.”
In a blink, both literal and magical, Ivan appeared in front of the first creature. A spray of pink shot out, just as Arcanicus had warned. He didn’t even bother to dodge, letting it fizzle ineffectively off his wards. Picking up the nearest monster, Ivan grabbed both heads and squeezed. It took more force than he’d been expecting, but both soon popped like he’d gripped a juice box too hard. More pink dripped down his hands, not that it mattered. The wards were just to protect his costume; this sort of attack wasn’t even capable of hurting him.
“Bahamut, do you have any sort of immunity to acid?”
“Not that I know of.” She was almost to his side already, quite fast in her green dragon form. “Just kind of tough, in general.”
Expected, but not ideal. “Then you’re on crowd control. Dodge the acid, but keep them corralled. Throw them back toward me, if needed. Once Glyph seals off the rear exit, this will be the funnel they all come through. Be ready for a rush at any time.”
“Shouldn’t we be going after Tori? You know, now that there are crazy acid monsters, it seemed like maybe the plan might be scrapped.”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. We needed a scapegoat for the capes to look at. Nexus works as well as the gang did. Better, in some ways, since he was actually part of this.” Ivan grabbed another creature and popped both heads. He was going faster, now that he knew the amount of strength required. “Regardless, that’s up to the ones inside. We help by clearing them a safe exit, and ensuring the message isn’t muddled by one of these things escaping and melting a hospital.”
That seemed to placate her, for a moment. “What if she’s in trouble? What if she calls for help?”
“Then I’ll rip the building in half and be at her side in an instant.” No laughter or ego in that statement. It was purely factual, and Bahamut could see that. Just because they were using the delicate method now didn’t mean they could switch to force if needed. They were both excellent tactics in a villain’s toolkit.
Darting past one of the creatures, Bahamut gripped it by the middle and hurled it toward Ivan, who snagged it from the air and crushed it between his hands, seemingly without effort. “If that happens, bring me along.”
“Sorry, but no. Not how we work. You want to be there with me in a moment like that?” Ivan dropped the mangled corpse to the ground, where its pink blood immediately began to dissolve the grass, despite leaving Ivan’s hands unblemished. “Become strong enough to get there yourself.”
This time, there was no preamble or warning. The door swung open, not quite powerfully enough to bang against the wall. To be fair, it was a heavy one, and Deacon was not a man burdened by excess muscle.
He looked like hell, which was honestly still better than Tori had expected by this point. She’d assumed he’d be crushed, melted, skewered—really it was just a question of who the guild had sent that would determine what form his death would take. Yet somehow, here he was, panicked and trying his damnedest to get the door shut once more.
“Things not going great? Feels early for another bathroom break. You don’t want to spoil me.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Deacon whipped around at her, snapping the words.
He was way off-kilter, not that he’d seemed overly stable to begin with. This was a step beyond, though. Between Nexus popping up and the guild being there, she didn’t know exactly what was going down, but she could make some fair assumptions.
Behind her back, Tori phased her left wrist into fire form for a split second, letting the metal cuff slip through, catching it in her right hand before it could fall and rattle the chain. This felt like a situation where having both hands and not being stuck to a chair might be advantageous, but she didn’t want to play her cards just yet. If she was doing this, then she was going all the way. And there was one major question she wanted answered before Deacon was off the board.
“Seems like it’s just you and me. No underlings or goons to impress. Be honest: how did you get blocking equipment good enough to stall the AHC?”
“Why the hell would I tell you that? Why I would help you at all?” Deacon was scouring his pockets, refusing to face the harsh realization that he didn’t have a key to lock the door with.
“Because it’s pretty obvious that whoever gave you that tech knew you’d fail. They were using you. No idea for what, but this plan was doomed from the jump, and anyone smart enough to build that kind of shit could probably see it.”
Fury boiled up in Deacon’s eyes as he stalked across the room, glowering down at Tori. “I have had enough of your mouth, enough of your hollow courage, enough of you. You may very well be right; I probably will die here with the rest of my crew. But at least I can take those flapping gums of yours with me.”
And just like that, he reached in to choke her.
It might have scared Tori, if he’d been faster or more aggressive, but ultimately, Deacon didn’t have any practice at this. Anger was carrying him past where his normal boldness would have faltered. Tori let him come, adjusting her grip on the cuff slightly, pushing the ratchet all the way through until the cuff was open again. She let him get his hands around her neck, waited until he’d begun to squeeze in earnest. His eyes locked, he was set on the task at hand.