Kaiju- Battlefield Surgeon

by Matt Dinniman

  I had that same feeling when I examined the gloves. Everything about it was… odd. I sensed it there, a tipping of the scales in my favor. A deus ex machina engineered by the literal god in the machine. I suspected that 15.33 boost to my charm was the exact amount of charisma I needed for this task.

  I did not, not for one moment, mistake this not-so-gentle push as the work of a benevolent god, however. No. No way. This was the same dispassionate AI who had steered me toward the amplification ceremony in order to get me inside of a kaiju.

  But even a charm of 38.33 didn’t negate the fact I was still a worm surgeon. Not to several members of the council.

  “Why would we listen to you?” the radiant guildmaster asked. The hawk-headed NPC was resplendent in glowing armor.

  Before I could open my mouth, a sundered interjected. This android wore human-like clothes, unlike his brothers in the former city of Little Cibola who preferred to tool around naked. “The worm surgeon who stands before this council is a criminal. A convicted felon. He is wanted in connection with the disaster that struck Guardian Epsilon, resulting in the disassembly of an untold number of the collective. His actions can only be construed as collaboration with the enemy.”

  If I wasn’t so terrified at the prospect of getting arrested again, I would have laughed. If only they knew the whole story.

  “We also object!” the groundling guildmaster called. She wore the same skullcap that Jazz and Stonegate and the clerics all wore. “This demon has cast vile magic, causing our lord to…”

  “We are getting off track,” I interrupted, raising my voice. To my utter surprise, everyone stopped and turned to me. I surveyed the room. I had everyone’s rapt attention.

  “This is what we need from you,” I said.

  ***

  The half-moon wall surrounding Medina consisted of seven different entrances. The sigil of each of the schools of magic decorated each of the doorways, with the exception of the main entrance, which contained the symbols of all six schools. On the far east side of the enclosed city, the earth magic doorway was nothing more than a ten-foot, double iron gate wide enough to accommodate two chasers rolling side-by-side. The edge of the map was a mere 100 yards north, and the untouchable, glittering blue sea reflected off the door. The wall itself rose twenty-five feet in the air and was made of crumbling red stone. The barrier was nothing more than decoration. It would not withstand more than a few direct hits of demon artillery. The real protection came from the magic that encased the city. It was the same magic that kept the guardians from getting too close.

  I didn’t know if the demons would ever be able to get into the city until after the rift was breached. Like with most single-player games, there was no real way to “lose.” Players had complete autonomy in the open-world map, but there was still a series of events that had to take place for the game to be completed. A player could easily prevent the game from ending by refusing to follow the final quest path. But if they wanted the story to end and for the credits to roll, something specific had to happen. While this game, like many others, had multiple endings, they all appeared to require the same set of circumstances. A player had to gain control of a guardian, the player had to gain access to the rift, and then the player had to travel through the rift into the world of hell. Once in hell, the player and guardian had to confront Baal, the head bad guy. Then they had to kill him.

  The only difference with the co-op version was that Baal was much stronger, making it so more guardians were required for that final battle.

  According to Clara, the walls of Medina would only fall when the rift was breached. The demons would pour through, basically making it so you no longer had access to the city. They would proceed to trash the place. The sky would turn black, and a lightning storm overwhelmed the hinterland. But the demons wouldn’t actually win or somehow gain access to the heavens. Players weren’t even supposed to see any of that. They were all supposed to be inside the rift. All of that extra stuff was just show for anybody who was left behind.

  “It’s noon,” I said. “Any moment now.”

  “Look,” Clara said. “The door is opening.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Wait until their backs are to us.”

  This part of the plan wasn’t very complicated. I found the section of the wall that was the least well-protected on the demon side. The Medina militia would pour out of the city at the door. They’d meet the demons head-on while we focused on taking out the larger monsters. Once the battle was fully committed, additional forces would emerge out the next door, a half-mile down the wall at the technology door.

  The gate was almost completely open when the demons finally noticed. While this section of the wall was the most poorly guarded, there were still multiple legions of monsters milling about. A horn blasted, followed by panicked scrambling on the field below. I watched as the ranks of the zippers attempted to form up. A single blood wyvern took to the sky, screaming.

  “That one is mine,” I said. “You focus on the cannons.”

  Every monster on the field was green tagged for me except the blood wyverns, who remained red-tagged. And the two-headed dreadnoughts, who were yellow tagged. The tagging system allowed me to easily pick out targets. For right now, I was focused on the massive pterodactyl vulture thing that had just taken to the skies.

  Spiked, steam-driven motorcycles flowed out of the open earth magic door. Hundreds of them surged onto the field, a cavalry charge unlike anything I had ever seen. Each was driven by a heavily armored nerve agent. They insisted on leading the charge. Half of the riders held chainsaw-wielding shade gremlins on their shoulders. The other half of the motorcycles featured sidecars with hand-cranked autocannons. These were manned by the mechanical menders, the race of steampunk automatons.

  Mounted beetles came next. The tree-like dryad rode upon them, screaming. They were armed with an array of blunt weapons and projectile guns. Then came the spider-like night barbers with their slings and the lycans with nothing more than their claws. Brownies surged down on the still-scrambling zippers from above, tearing them apart with magical arrows they cast from their hands. Plain humans also joined the fray, rushing forward on foot with automatic weapons.

  “Holy cow,” I said, watching the sudden carnage. The motorcycle charge continued unabated through the haphazard ranks. “It’s like they don’t even need us.”

  “They will,” Clara said, lining up a shot with the mounted gun. She eased the trigger, and a distant dreadnought dropped to the ground. “Boom, headshot! Well, left headshot.” The monster’s hand cannon crashed to the ground and fired. The cannonball blasted a tree a hundred yards south of us. It was the closest we’d come so far to taking fire. “I’m not seeing several races out there.”

  “The sundered, the groundlings, and the radiants aren’t going to help,” I said. I watched the blood wyvern circle. I needed to wait until just the right moment. Come on, come on. “Hopefully the others are waiting at the next gate down.”

  The creature swept up and tucked its wings. It was angling down to hit a chaser-like vehicle as it rolled from the city gate.

  I cast Leaden, hitting it right when it started its dive. I’d managed to upgrade the spell to the top level of 3, and the hex cast in a wide sphere, centered on the single blood wyvern. The attack caught the monster along with a couple dozen of the smaller, flocking pazuzu. They all slammed hard to the ground. I knew from experience the pazuzu would all be dead. The wyvern would only be stunned, but it took them a long time to get back up again. Time it didn’t have.

  A shade gremlin leaped off a motorcycle and dove head-first into the downed wyvern, screaming as his chainsaw sunk deep into the monster. The demon’s blood arced into the air like a sprinkler.

  I cast Leaden a second time, focusing on a swooping flock of pazuzu. It sounded like thunder when they smashed the ground. Beside me, Clara’s single, precision shots turned more regular. She fired rhythmically, like a slow but steady beat from a bass drum. Thwump,
thwump, thwump. She could fire faster and switch the gun to full auto, but at her current speed, she could keep the fire up indefinitely. She focused on the dreadnoughts. At her level of 52, the powerful gun could drop the large ogres in only three shots, or just one if she hit one of the two heads.

  I was too far away to collect soul power, but I was prepared. I popped open one of the soul power potions.

  “Be careful,” Clara said. “You accidentally hit a couple brownies with that spell.”

  “Well, shit,” I said. I’d hoped the Leaden spell would be smart enough to distinguish friend or foe. No such luck.

  The demons were finally starting to recover. Almost two dozen blood wyverns frantically flapped toward the battle. Multiple flatbed trucks rolled toward the action. I groaned. Those were usually manned by the bug-filled cyclods.

  “Shit,” Clara said. “They see us. We got incoming.”

  I dropped down just as a tree a few feet away from me exploded in splinters.

  A group of dreadnoughts had finally figured out where the sniping was coming from. To make matters worse, a cyclod truck with a mounted spider gun was coming into range. We’d be in their sights in less than a minute. I pulled my gun and took aim at the flatbed.

  Crash! Clara flew back as a cannonball struck a direct hit against the side of Nipper. The truck didn’t flip, but the ball had embedded itself directly into the side of the vehicle. It half-covered the dog’s head on my spray-painted logo. That enraged me more than it probably should have.

  I looked in horror to see Clara was stuck in the concertina wire that surrounded the top of the tank. She struggled to get free. Her wings buzzed uselessly.

  “Get those dreadnoughts!” she cried. “I’ll be out in a second.”

  We needed to move the truck. That was the plan. But I couldn’t do it with Clara hanging off the side of the thing.

  I sighted on the closest dreadnought. He was about 200 meters away. The ogre was already heavily injured, and he dropped after the first shot. It took several shots for me to actually hit him. It was hard for me to aim at this distance. The pulses had a tendency to curve through the air. Clara’s shots were much straighter, probably thanks to her superior deftness.

  I remembered I had a handful of the deftness potions. I grabbed and quickly downed one.

  Your Deftness has been temporarily increased by 10. It is now 28.

  I fired at the second closest dreadnought. I scored a hit to its arm, causing his lined-up shot to go wide. Another burst, and he went down.

  Beyond, the tide started to turn against us. We had pushed them into retreat and panic, but the rallying troops from down the wall were forming up to meet us. I watched in horror as a motorcycle pinwheeled through the air, the lower half of a nerve agent still attached. It landed and exploded with a resounding crash.

  Another cannon blast scored a glancing blow across the top of Nipper, skipping off like a stone across a pond. It narrowly missed splattering Clara. Just beyond the dreadnought, the flatbed stopped, turning sideways. The cyclods on either side of the gun started to deflate.

  Screw this.

  “I’m moving to point B, whether you’re ready or not!” I called up. I jumped up and scrambled into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, and we jerked forward, disappearing into the trees. As we lurched forward, Nipper rocked with another glancing blow.

  Clara dropped into the tank, slamming the hatch.

  “We got hit with the spider gun,” she said. “It wasn’t a direct hit, but it was enough.”

  The windshield went black as thousands of bugs swarmed over it, crawling down from the roof.

  I slammed the brakes. Clara and Iffy went flying forward. Iffy farted and popped in panic. “Close the door behind me,” I screamed, as I pushed it open. I engaged my shield, and I jumped, rolling to a stop as I selected my flamethrower attachment.

  I turned, and I doused the exterior of the chaser with fire. Just a quick burst. The venomous spiders and centipedes curled up and fell like ash. I rushed to the other side and bathed it again in fire. Nipper could take the abuse. I hoped the occupants could, too.

  Clara screamed.

  “Damnit,” I growled. I pushed myself back inside. The interior of the tank had risen at least twenty degrees. Clara had a poisoned notification pulsing over her head, and iffy had turned from red to purple. Only a few of the biting spiders and centipedes had gotten inside. At least one of them had managed to crawl up Clara’s armor and get underneath her collar. Just one bite was enough.

  After several scrambling seconds of swatting and smashing, Clara’s color returned after she downed an antidote. Iffy was dead. The damn slug somehow managed to make himself smell even worse upon death. Thanks to Clara’s pet carrier, he’d be back in a few minutes.

  We had stopped on a low ridge obscuring our view of the battlefield. Multiple explosions echoed, rocking the earth.

  “I’m okay,” Clara said, slapping the interior roof. “Let’s move, let’s move.”

  I jumped into the seat, and Nipper roared back to life. I noted the vehicle’s hull integrity was down to 74%. Not bad, considering all the abuse it had already taken. It took less than fifteen seconds to move to the new spot. This was better cover, and it was closer to the action. Close enough that I felt a constant stream of soul power.

  “We have three crowned demons on the field now,” Clara called. “I can’t see their names from here, but I recognize one of them. It’s King Vinea and his asshole horse. We also have about a million glazers down there. They’re hopping around like fleas on a trampoline.”

  I threw open a chat window. I kept it active, a virtual computer terminal hovering to my right. I typed out a quick message.

  Duke: Banksy, you’re up.

  Banksy: Tell me where you need me.

  I pulled myself out of the tank and hit the outcropping, spotting the battlefield with my rifle. We’d been out of sight of the field for only a few short minutes, and everything looked different.

  The technology door was now open, and pig-riding mole men poured forth, coming to meet the glazers. The earth and technology-based dwarves were armed with pulse rifles and wheeled autocannons. A few groups of three carried an odd weapon that appeared to be a jackhammer. They positioned it over the ground, the mechanism pulsed blue, and cracks would form on the ground, shooting off toward the main line of demons. It was an earthquake attack. It wasn’t too effective with glazers.

  The dagon fish people also emerged. A good portion of them were armed with electrified nets and tridents. Their group held their own while the mole men started to get overwhelmed by the small glazers on one side and taller zippers on the other. They were followed by mixed squads of worm surgeons, humans, plague doctorers, and night barbers. I knew Captain Renault was down there somewhere, leading a squad into battle while armed with nothing more than their rifles.

  The back half of the battlefield toward the earth door was nothing but scorched earth, flaming motorcycles, and bodies everywhere. More Medina fighters continued to trickle out. These were mostly the faceless physickers, the tentacle-mouthed leechers, and the gentle fae, coming to cast buffs and heals upon the sturdier melee fighters.

  I cursed the guildmasters of the races who refused to participate. I thought of the massive tanks the sundered had used to deal with Jenk and Olga. Just a few of those things would’ve made a huge difference here. The same with a squad of groundlings in their battle mechs.

  A trio of crowned demon lords casually approached the wavering front line. King Vinea was the only one I recognized, glittering on his black horse. He looked much the same as he did that night months ago when we ran the gauntlet to get to the Shrill for the first time. A second demon was also on horseback, though his horse was a pale beige with a mane made of smoke. This one appeared like a man but had the head of a cat. I couldn’t read it from this distance, but the flaming crowns on either side of his or her name mirrored the size of the twin crowns around King Vinea’s ti
tle, signifying this was also a top-tier king or queen. The third was a tall, hunched over monster with magenta skin and the countenance of a drooling rat. He carried a mace the size of a wrecking ball. The thing towered fifteen feet, bigger than even the dreadnoughts. This third one stood behind the other two, and his crown symbol was much smaller.

  All three of them were right next to each other, surrounded by a host of glazers and dreadnoughts and a new type of demon I hadn’t before seen. These things looked like armored hyenas with miniguns mounted on their backs. The gun dogs were all red-tagged, meaning they were stout bastards.

  Duke: Do you feel those earthquake attacks? I need you about 250 meters southwest of there. About thirty meters south of the wall. Can you do that?

  Banksy: I can feel where you’re pointing. The ground groans heavy there.

  Duke: Yeah, well do it now.

  Above, Clara’s gun resumed its fire. She ignored the demon lords and focused on the mess of dive-bombing blood wyverns ripping their way through our back ranks. The physickers were getting torn to shreds. The leechers were fairing better, casting spells that caused the flyers to turn on each other. The fae had scattered. I didn’t know if they were all dead or just mixed in with everyone else.

  I cast Leaden, again and again, killing huge swaths of the flyers. With the jolt of soul power I received with every mass kill, I could keep this up all day.

  I felt the ground rumble.

  “Here he comes,” I said.

  Chapter 58

  Banksy erupted from the earth, shooting straight into the sky, rising like a Saturn V rocket, showering rock and dust. The three demons and most of their entourage were simply gone.

  Banksy slammed back to the earth, and a shockwave spread, crushing hundreds of fleeing demons and knocking everything within 100 meters down.