Kaiju- Battlefield Surgeon

by Matt Dinniman

  She reached her giant hand into her pocket, and I climbed in as she grasped a jar.

  She dipped me directly into the blood, and I immediately fell in over my head.

  I was overwhelmed with the smell. It wasn’t like iron or metal or anything like that. It was more of a sweet, rotten fish stench. The moment the darkness took me, my head started to swim.

  Damage taken! Damage taken!

  Warning: You are submerged in angel blood! You may not cast resurrection magic while submerged! You will lose 1% of health per second while submerged!

  Motherfucker! My active spell didn’t cancel, thank goodness. My countdown was at five minutes, but I would die long before that. There was no way I could do this in five minutes, let alone 100 seconds. I’d have to pull myself out of the channel and hope they didn’t notice me.

  I couldn’t see a thing. A slight current pushed me back, threatening to pull me away from the direction I wanted to go. Shit, shit, shit. What to do?

  I shot my grappling hook forward, hoping to find something to latch onto. I couldn’t see anything. My hand clutched something that felt like stone. I retracted, pulling myself forward. Too fast. I felt the blood ripple around me. If anyone was looking down, they’d see a disturbance as I passed.

  I guessed I could move about six feet with each blast of my hook. I shot again and again, racing against my plummeting health bar.

  I couldn’t tell if I was past the barrier without poking my head out of the river, and I didn’t dare do that, not until the last possible moment.

  My health was down to 10 percent. I had confirmed I could use the soul power potions while underwater. One didn’t drink those. I wasn’t so sure about the health potions. How do you drink something while you’re already submerged?

  I grasped at the health potion on my belt, but I hesitated. If you drink any of this blood, you’re not going to just poison yourself. You’re going to drop dead.

  I yanked myself forward one last time, and then I grasped the health potion. I swam to the surface. I poked my head up, popped the cork, and I drank just before my health inched below 5%.

  The potion brought me up to about 55%, so I pulled another one as I quickly figured out where I was. I was past the barrier, about halfway between it and the base of the frozen angel. Behind me, a small group of the caduceus prostrated themselves, chanting as they worshipped. One of them looked up just as I sank below the surface.

  Did he see me? I didn’t know. I couldn’t hear anything under here. Maybe he thought I was a bubble in the river. Surely there had to be some disturbances.

  I didn’t wait around. Shoot, grasp, retract, shoot, grasp, retract. I dragged myself to the base of the angel. The closer I got, the shallower the channel became. My health was running low again. I had less than two minutes left of my Miniaturize, and in order to cast that again, I had to get completely out of the blood.

  The angel was recessed into a nook. I couldn’t remember the way it looked from the cutscene, but Clara explained that there was a small, rectangular collection pool at the base. About two feet separated it from the wall of the alcove. I would have to climb out and move to the space between the angel and the wall where casual observers wouldn’t see me. From there I could ascend from the back. This was the riskiest part. I would be visible for a precious second or two. I would trail blood, leaving a puddle on the floor. There was no avoiding that. If someone was paying attention, they’d see me. My cloak was useless here, not when I was soaked.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. I hauled myself out of the pool, and I made a line for the recess.

  A shout rose. Then another.

  Fuck!

  I initiated my shield as I slipped into the space behind the angel’s leg. I didn’t wait. I recast Miniaturize, but I made myself bigger. My full size wouldn’t fit back here, but I needed to move as quickly as possible.

  Raguel’s skin was hot to the touch. Not quite to the level I’d seen in the memory with Paskunji, but it was hot enough to burn my hand. I’d anticipated this and quickly downed a potion called Fire Endure. It normally lasted two minutes, but it lasted four for me. The effect was strange. It didn’t negate the heat, but it made it so it just didn’t hurt or drop my health points. It was a subtle but important difference. The fingers on my right hand were still getting burned, though it was less than it would be. I just didn’t feel it. Just like with my once-a-day Invulnerable, I’d have to heal myself before it wore off.

  I shot my hook up, grasping onto the stone-like robe. More shouting rose from within the temple. I didn’t know what, if anything they could do until they figured out the barrier spell was a fake. Surely the radiants had a contingency plan. I didn’t want to wait around to find out what it was.

  I climbed to the shoulder, and I finally was able to peek over to the barrier.

  Multiple radiants and caduceus now gathered at the edge, shouting and pointing. I was quickly spied, and they went berserk. I had to look like a small, blood-red demon to their eyes. I waved before sliding over the shoulder and dropping into the cupped hand.

  At my current size, the black sprout was almost as tall as I was. My strength was not affected by my size. I grasped onto the stalk, and I pulled.

  The flower did not come easily. From my earlier discussions with Fronz, Andras, and one of the city’s alchemists, the flower partially replaced the nervous system with a system of unbreakable roots. The plants could only be removed once the flower bloomed out of the chest cavity, and that happened several days after the initial planting. I tugged on the stem, utilizing the full strength of my mechanical left hand to yank. The roots slowly started to give, coming like I was pulling the rope machine at the gym. They just came and came. The roots didn’t pile up into the hand, however. After I’d removed about six inches of roots from the body, the flower seemed to suck them into itself.

  I pulled and pulled and pulled. I had to pause to refill my soul points and recast Miniaturize. I healed and downed another of the Fire Endure potions.

  I peeked my head over the tip of the praying hands. A contingent of red and gold-armored radiants stood ready at the barrier, ready to charge in. It reminded me of videos of prison riots where the guards all lined up to charge into the cells. They looked pissed. I recognize their armor. These were their elite troops.

  I didn’t know what they were waiting for. Probably some sort of spell-casting radiant to remove the barrier.

  At any moment, Clara was going to kill the barrier on the other side. The plan was to originally wait for the angel to wake up. But just in case I was seen early, she would wait for the commotion to get fully out of hand on this side of the room before she made her move. She’d cast Miniaturize using her ring to get into the hand of the other angel where she’d mirror what I was doing.

  I continued to yank. The roots just kept coming. My hands tingled as the tiny hairs at the roots probed at me, trying to break their way into me.

  More shouting rose, and the clattering of feet told me they’d either lowered the barrier or figured out it wasn’t really there. They rushed to the base of the frozen angel, but there they paused, unsure of what to do next. They seemed loathe to shoot or even touch the angel. But they couldn’t get to me otherwise.

  Black smoke filled the space above me, seeping down into the hands.

  Poison Gas Resisted.

  They didn’t know I was a worm surgeon. They probably hoped it would kill whatever creature was up here. I pulled and pulled, trying not to cough. If they cast a sleep or paralysis spell, I’d be fucked.

  The resistance on the roots started to slacken, and just as I yanked the last of it out, the world paused and flashed.

  ***

  A memory.

  Three angels stand upon a tall hill, overlooking the hinterland. I recognize Paskunji. The other two are Raguel and Jeremiel. Behind them, the azure blue sea that represents the edge of the map glitters. They stand on the hill that will eventually house the temple.

  “
The city will go in the east,” Jeremiel says. He is tall, male with olive skin. His smoky wings drift lazily in the air. “The humans will come once the trees reach full maturity, and the oxygen levels stabilize.”

  Paskunji snorts with derision. “This will be no place for children and families and soft-bodied humans. We should garrison this world with the Dominions and be done with it.”

  Raguel lifts a finger, pointing at his fellow angel. He looks much like Jeremiel, though his eyes are a pale white, giving him the impression of being blind.

  “We war only as a last resort, sister. This is not a military operation. You know this.”

  Time passes. A new scene.

  Raguel and Jeremiel sit at a table. A third angel sits across from them, one I do not recognize. I recognize the room. It is the temple, and the table sits where the triangular pool of blood now stands. The gold dais that will eventually house a statue of Paskunji is the only recognizable part of the room. But instead of Paskunji, a statue of another figure now sits upon the plinth. I try to observe it, but I am temporarily blinded the moment I look. I take damage, even in the cutscene. I can feel it there, a burning, radiant presence in the room. I feel drawn to it, like a bug to a flame.

  My sense of perception is off because I have no physical presence in this scene, but I realize that the angels are much too close to the ceiling. They are in their true form here, and each are 30 feet tall.

  This third angel sits so he faces this small statue. Tears stream down his face as he looks up and sees what I cannot.

  He is smaller than the other two. His wings are of black, dripping smoke. His clothes are rags. While clearly an angel, his skin is pale, sickly. His black hair sits upon his head in clumpy patches.

  “So fragile, yet so strong,” the third angel says. I think he’s speaking of the statue, but I am not certain. “Is it safe to keep it here?”

  Jeremiel waves his hand dismissively. “Even if the portal is rent open, only a human-sized creature may enter. They can’t transform once they’re within.”

  “Still,” this third angel says. “You should have just sealed us away. By leaving it here, you give them a path. If one manages to get inside and then transform, it would be the end of everything.”

  “Our father doesn’t want to seal you off. He wants you to come home,” Jeremiel says. “If we completely seal it, there is no reopening. We would be trapped, too. You know his terms. Go, now, brother. Go with peace. Tell them the terms.”

  I realize with a start I know exactly who this new angel is.

  “Do you think they will agree?” Raguel says to this third angel.

  “I don’t know,” Zagan says. “They must. If not, war will come. The humans will suffer. Our brothers and sisters will continue to suffer. Being out of His presence… it’s changing us, brother. Baal, Sytri, Beleth, Asmodeus, Lamashtu, Vinea… I do not wish to tell you what is happening to them. If we can’t come to an agreement, maybe we can burn our own path… All this pain, this suffering.” He pauses. He looks again at the burning statue. I realize with horror that his eyes are bubbling. They are actually boiling as they gaze upon the visage of the statue. I know now it’s an image of the creator. Zagan abruptly stands, turning away.

  “I will try to get Baal to send an emissary,” he says, looking down as if he can no longer bear it. “He won’t trust me to negotiate, but he will send others.”

  The other two angels stand.

  “Be well, brother,” Jeremiel says. “Tell Baal… tell him I am sorry. Tell him we want this to end as much as he does.”

  Zagan nods and walks from the room.

  The two angels stand in silence for a long moment. Jeremiel turns to Raguel and says, “I am hopeful.”

  “Me too, brother.”

  Paskunji strides into the room, walking purposely toward the two angels.

  “Sister,” Raguel begins. “Good news, we…”

  Paskunji lifts her hand, and twin flames shoot forth, simultaneously skewering both the angels between the eyes. They drop to their knees.

  ***

  I awakened from the cutscene to find myself falling. My miniaturize had run out, and I had returned to full size. I splashed hard into the small pool of blood, taking a large portion of damage. I instinctively cast Reconstitute and popped another soul potion. The motion was quick. I didn’t even need to pull it from my belt. I just flicked the cork away with my thumb, and the vial disappeared.

  It took me a moment to realize I’d bowled over several radiants who’d been standing at the base of the angel. But they did not attack. They barely noticed me.

  All of them, every living soul in the temple stood, mouths agape as the angel Raguel awakened from his long slumber.

  The black sprout that had bound him remained in my hand, and I quickly tossed it into my inventory.

  “Brother,” the angel called. His voice was loud, confused. He took a tentative step forward. We scattered back. I was unclear if he had memory or not of his time under the sprout’s control. I hoped he did, otherwise this would be harder.

  A second voice boomed, this time from across the hall.

  “I am here,” he called.

  More commotion filled the room as the others realized that both angels had awakened.

  “Where is she,” Raguel boomed. He surveyed the room. He eyed me, his eyes registering surprise. “You,” he boomed, pointing at me. “You are the one who removed the flower from me. Where is my sister?”

  “Please,” I called up to him. “This is very important. We need to talk. We need you to come with us. I will explain…”

  The angel fell to a knee, breaking the marble of the temple. The channel of blood splattered. An ominous crack spiderwebbed up the wall. He reached forward and snatched me up. I cried in pain as his burning fingers squeezed. He pulled me up so I faced him.

  “Where the fuck is Paskunji,” he said.

  “She’s taken the form of a phoenix guardian,” I gasped. “She is guarding the rift.”

  He dropped me. This time, I was ready and used my grappling hook to slow my descent.

  “Brother, follow me,” the angel boomed. Then he leaped straight up through the ceiling, his form enlarging as his smoky wings formed about him.

  A moment later, Jeremiel followed his brother into the sky. The marble ceiling of the temple shattered outward. Rocks crashed all around me.

  Multiple notifications filled my screen.

  A warrant has been issued for your arrest in the city of Medina!

  Warning: The protection that shields Medina from demon incursion has failed.

  Warning: The source of Celestial magic in the realm is starting to fade. Food boxes will no longer provide blood nuggets. Once the current stock is exhausted, it may not return.

  Jesus, I thought as I dodged a falling chunk of marble. Good thing we removed that army outside the gates. Demons still patrolled the skies, but the amount was greatly reduced. The vast majority of the remaining demons had fallen back to the pavilions closer to the rift.

  Experience Earned!

  Level Up!

  You are now level 48!

  The crashing marble settled. The temple still stood for the moment, but it now had two massive holes in the ceiling. A light rain filtered through, diluting the blood that remained in the pool.

  I stood amongst a group of radiants. One of them turned to another. “The angel is going to kill Paskunji,” he said.

  “It’s like the prophecy,” another whispered. “We must fight. We must rise up and protect our guardian!”

  And that was the moment they noticed I was standing amongst them.

  Chapter 63

  Duke: Banksy. Help.

  I leaped into the air, rocketing upward, and just as I reached my apex, I shot my grappling hook, grasping onto a portion of the destroyed ceiling. I retracted just as multiple blaster shots followed me, a few bouncing off my chest armor and head. My shield, already low from being on for so long, dropped into the red. I
scrambled onto the teetering roof of the temple just as the ground below erupted.

  I leaped again, shooting my grappling hook and attaching to the stone arch at the front of the temple complex. I vaulted over it as Banksy finished emerging from underneath the temple. He crashed down, smashing the same arch I’d just vaulted off. The angels had started the destruction of the temple, but Banksy finished it off in five seconds flat.

  Banksy: Do you want your vehicle?

  Duke: Yes. Right on the main road.

  I landed on the roof of a nearby building, skittering to a stop. Below, Banksy belched out Nipper onto the street. Clara rushed from a nearby alley and jumped into the vehicle.

  Warning: You have been classed as enemy by members of the Radiant race. You will be attacked on sight.

  Warning: You have been classed as enemy by members of the Caduceus race. You will be attacked on sight.

  Warning: You have been classed as enemy by members of the Fae race. You will be attacked on sight.

  Warning: You have been classed as enemy by members of the Night Barber race. You will be attacked on sight.

  Warning: All Worm Surgeons will now be attacked on sight by Radiants.

  Warning: All Worm Surgeons will now be attacked on sight by the Sundered.

  “That’s new,” I muttered. I hadn’t even gotten that when Kinnegad was razed, and I stole their guardian. In fact, looking over the list, I realized it was all celestial-based creatures who had classed me as an enemy, with the exception of that sundered thing at the end. And the groundlings were noticeably absent. The goat-headed viceroys weren’t on the list, either, but the radiants hated them almost as much as they hated worm surgeons.

  Only the radiants and the sundered had seemed to declare all-out war on us, though. I didn’t know what, if anything, all this meant. After tonight I wasn’t planning on ever coming back to this city ever again.

  I leaped off the roof, aiming for Nipper.

  Duke: Banksy, go back under but stay as close as you can without caving the city in. We’re going to make a break for it, and we may need you. As soon as we’re outside the city limits, swallow Nipper back up and move to the next location.