Forged

by G S Michaelson

  Bracing himself against the wall, Derek drove both feet into Timothy’s stomach, forcing him to release him as the latter was pushed back. Blood dripped from his head into his eyes, he wiped it off.

  “The Nephilim are chosen by the gods of the world to reign in their stead,” Timothy coughed,” To be chosen as a lieutenant of theirs is the highest honour anyone could gain.”

  Timothy barrelled towards him again, all class and fists and swinging and whipping. Derek interrupted his attack, stunning him with dual webshots.

  He kicked him in the face, at the same time, he fired two weblines at his feet, using his own momentum to pull Timothy off his feet.

  As the other man fell to the ground, Derek leapt into the air, firing a webline towards Timothy’s chest. He braced for impact as he realized what was coming.

  Anansi’s Impact!

  Timothy coughed up blood as Derek’s fist sank in, then he lashed out again. Derek evaded, flipping a few metres away from them.

  “I disagree with your definition of honour,” Derek said. “You’re just terrorizing people and using ‘god’ as a justification.”

  * * *

  “Sacrifices?” Timothy asked. “Why do we need sacrifices?”

  “Do you really need to know,” said Jason. He had become more distant as Timothy had settled into his role as one of his lieutenants. “The Orisha now require the Nephilim to deliver to them a number of people every year. As you’re my representative in Karn and have already worked to isolate them, we’re testing out using the people of Karn for the first few batches.”

  “That’s….that’s…” Timothy struggled to find the words. He wanted to say repulsive, repugnant, disgusting, but he couldn’t. He had taken so many little steps, each step towards this. Each little step, each concession made had culminated in the realisation that at this point, he could not find it within himself to say it was repugnant.

  “Yes?” Asked Jason, his voice showing irritation. “That’s what? Don’t tell me you’re showing doubt now of all times?”

  “How many do you need?” Timothy had checked himself and buried all doubts, “Sir.”

  For all their friendship, Jason was still his boss, he was still a Nephilim, one of the chosen people, and Timothy was not. He would always remember that.

  * * *

  Timothy coughed blood as he slid backwards.

  Who is he to challenge me? He didn’t know anything about my life, he had just come from nowhere to attack the traditions that I have held close to my heart.

  Derek leapt again and swung as Timothy grabbed his hand, throwing him aside and simultaneously kicking him.

  It was at this point Timothy noticed that their battle had carried them outside the communications centre.

  This was good, he could deliver orders to the personal radios of the Order Squadron, despite the destroyed speaker system, he was still in control.

  Timothy grinned maniacally.

  Radios around Karn County crackled to life, the militia hearing their new orders.

  “This is Timothy. The invaders have been subdued. If you want to live longer, round up everyone that supported them!” He snarled, “No, hang their bodies, pile them up in the streets. Let no one escape your reach! We will retake Karn and crush this rebellion.”

  It was not up for debate, Timothy’s tone made that clear, he had beaten all but one of the invaders, and was coming out for to judge all who had supported them.

  * * *

  Taylor was a young man of 24 years old. He had been in the Order Squadron since he was a teenager. He hadn’t had a choice, having lived through the invasion, he was quickly conscripted to work for the newly initiated militia. He had grown to love his job and love the tools with which he was provided. Yet, he felt a distinct feeling of wrongness. It was wrong when he had been asked to take people away, but at least he could tell himself he didn’t know what was going on. Now Timothy had ordered him to kill everyone, and that was causing a problem for him. This had been an odd week for him. From the intruder on the Grace Balconies, to the deaths of the executives.

  “Hey,” Lee, his friend spoke up. “You are having second thoughts.”

  “Are…” He hesitated, “Are you….?”

  All around them, similar questions were asked, and choices were made. Then the shooting started, and the screaming, and the stabbing. Not all the soldiers were conscripts, some came from Karn’s darkest corners, some were the rejects that the Davids family paper would not have written about 10 years ago. They bore no bond with the other people and would happily tear down the entire society if they felt it could give them a leg up. They took up Timothy’s orders with glee.

  A little girl screamed as one reached for her, his knife in his hand. He was immediately knocked away. Taylor punched him in the face, pushing the girl away.

  “Have you no shame?” He yelled.

  They moved towards him, he would be their substitute victim instead. Taylor whipped out his baton, there were 10 of them, but he would die if necessary. He had violated his principles too much, too often.

  As he ran towards them, someone yanked him back roughly, two others leapt forward, crushing the approaching men.

  “Don’t worry, we’ve got this.” The first figure said.

  Taylor nodded as he ran back to help people in need.

  Douglas stood up, bleeding, torn, and tattered. But he was standing, along with Rachel, and Simon.

  “Derek will deal with Timothy,” Douglas said, “But we have one job down here, keep these people from killing each other.”

  Taking stock of each other’s injuries, he asked them.

  “Are you up for it?”

  Simon nodded grimly. Even as broken and beaten down as he was, he would give his life. Rachel was less invested, but she too nodded. They had started this, they would finish this.

  “Good,” nodded Douglas, “One more thing.”

  As they were swarmed by Order Squadron members, Douglas grinned.

  Shouts broke out from behind the Squadron as some fell. A javelin impaled a few of them, wrapping garotte strings around those in its wake. The attacker pulled the strings, slicing more than a few Squadron members at a time.

  Another attacker danced through the air, cutting and slicing them as he did so. Simon’s eyes widened. Rachel smirked as she recognized the javelin.

  Knives lanced through the air, picking off soldiers one by one as they struggled to find the source of their attacks.

  The trio now stood side by side, alongside an army of their own.

  “Thanks for coming as I requested,” Douglas said, “You can consider us even.”

  Sophia stood alongside Reuben, Matthias, and 50 of the Marauders.

  “That’s the only reason I’m doing this,” Sophia’s face was set like stone, then it softened, “Never took you for a charitable man.”

  “Well, you learn something new every day.” Douglas looked her in the eye, “Sorry about all this, I really am.”

  “Well, if we’re pissing off a Nephilim, we may as well do it the right way!” Sophia yelled, “Now advance, Marauders!”

  The sound of violence filled the air as the Marauders and the remnants of the Order Squadron clashed. A proxy war for the soul of Karn.

  * * *

  “Just one favour?” Sophia asked, “Seriously?!”

  “You won’t be in debt if you do this,” Douglas replied, “I promise.”

  “Damn you. Douglas, this is shrewd even for you.” Sophia wasn’t pleased with the deal. But she would take it, she was a proud woman, and Douglas was counting on that.

  “This is my radio,” He handed her one of his personally tuned receivers, “When I call, you come!”

  * * *

  In the Shining Towers, Zeke stood up after binding his wounds for the first time, looking at his broken sword, he recalled something else. It hadn’t occurred to him that he could simply try it, his sword had never broken before. Dropping the broken sword to the ground, He reac
hed out his hand and focused, reaching deep into his soul where his Godspark burned brightly.

  “Amadioha,” He whispered, more to himself than anything, “Come out.”

  The air appeared to shimmer, then it glowed as Amadioha took form in his palm, extending out to full length. His previous sword crumbled and shattered, leaving nothing but a broken kitchen knife in its place.

  With Amadioha restored, Zeke knew what he had to do. There would be no more orders, no more commands from this building, he would make sure of that. He whispered into his radio for a moment. Satisfied his message was received, he wielded the sword with purpose.

  Amadioha: Shattersword.

  Zeke’s wounds were still bad, but he would work through the pain. He ran for the window, and slashed at it, dodging out of the way as it exploded. Glass flying everywhere. Then he took a breath and took a leap. The runes covered his sword’s blade, as he had done on his old blade. Twisting, he stabbed into the outer walls, slicing and stabbing as much as he could, all he needed was a small nick and enough time for the explosive energy to propagate.

  As he rapidly approached the ground, Zeke was ready.

  “Now come get me,” He yelled, “Simon!”

  The sound of jets filled his heart with hope as Simon grabbed him out of the air, his Hephaestus armour barely holding together.

  “You cut it a little close,” Zeke grinned, “I gave you like 10 seconds.”

  “Maybe next time I’ll let you splat,” Simon’s blonde hair whipped free of his helmet as he smirked at his brother, then his tone became serious, “Did you…”

  “Don’t worry about it, just get us a bit further away.”

  As they moved away from the tower, Zeke pointed his sword at the tower, then made a slashing gesture, like he was cutting it from afar.

  ShatterSword: Song of Stone!

  The Towers exploded in several spaces, from the window, to where Simon had caught Zeke. Each nick exploding with the force of a bomb, the walls began to crumble, crack, and collapse.

  “No more,” Zeke whispered.

  “No more.”

  Chapter 31 - The Zealot, Unhinged

  As Derek and Timothy clashed, the Shining Towers began to rumble.

  ShatterSword: Song of Stone.

  Explosions shattered the buildings’ support, blowing out the walls, the windows and the outer and inner pillars.

  Timothy had gone pale as the cracks had reached them., splitting the floor beneath them.

  “What…is going on…” He turned towards Derek, “What have you done? What have you done?”

  Derek had already started moving while Timothy was still frozen. He made a beeline for the nearest window and leapt out, firing a webline and turning as he did so.

  The sight of it was beautiful. For a moment, it appeared like the silvery Shining Towers were suspended in space, with bright golden and orange flares erupting from the sides. A kaleidoscope of colour.

  Then it began to slant to one direction, then some of it slanted to the other, as the structural damage accumulated and coalesced to create even more damage. The tower was falling apart. It had been the centre of the town, and it could no longer hold.

  Timothy burst out of one of the buildings, his hybrid human- kangaroo form engulfed in flame. He turned back for a second, then he noticed Derek.

  Landing on a nearby rooftop, his face was a twisted mask of fury and hate.

  “You did this.”

  Perched on a webline between two buildings, Derek nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

  “Why? Why did you do all this?” Timothy asked. “One more time, I ask you. Why would you come here, and just tear down everything that we’ve built over the years? Give me an answer—if you can.”

  “Because it’s not yours, it was never yours,” Derek replied, “It belongs to the people of Karn, and you have stolen it, and you steal the people every day. You steal their souls and crush their spirits under your boots. You’ve turned their home into a prison.”

  Derek’s mind flashed back to his own childhood, a distant memory he struggled to suppress now as emotion overwhelmed him.

  “You disgust me.”

  “I am a servant of the Nephilim.” Timothy snarled, “By default, the Orisha, the gods of the world have given me the power to carry out their will.”

  “You don’t really believe that.” Derek leapt as he replied, he had had enough of this conversation.

  Web Barrage: Rain Storm!

  From his wrists, he fired continuous web globs. As they hit the air, they hardened and expanded into solid balls, landing with the impact and force of close ranged shotgun shells.

  Timothy shrugged them off as he thrust upwards, leaping straight towards Derek.

  Northern Lights: Springer!

  He bodyslammed Derek mid-flight, he spat blood from the force. Derek grabbed onto the airborne Timothy, and fired a webline towards a building, dragging both towards it. He was repurposing Timothy’s momentum as a weapon against him, as he slammed them both into the building, the latter’s heavy body acting as a cushion for him.

  Timothy shook it off and stood again.

  He must die.

  He ran towards Derek as Derek braced himself to take his attacks head-on.

  He is to me as Icarus to the sun.

  Derek swung, punching him full on in the face, his brain rattling around as the full power of Derek’s strength played havoc with his skull. The pain barely registered.

  He does not believe in the power of the Orisha, the gods of this world.

  Timothy charged, he leapt into the air then twisted himself, spinning downwards in the air, his tail acting like a blade. Derek avoided it, as Timothy sliced through the air. Then Timothy did it again, and then again, slicing the building’s rooftop apart.

  He must be defying the gods. The Orisha are gods. The Nephilim are chosen by Gods, this is the truth of the world that I accepted, and it cannot be changed. Otherwise….what the hell did I go through this all for?

  Timothy unfurled from his ball, and charged Derek again, grabbing his head this time. Derek flailed about trying to break free, but Timothy was too fast.

  “This is retribution from the gods,” He snarled.

  Northern Lights: Springer Dasher!

  Timothy leapt into the air, keeping a firm grip on Derek. His tail snaked around restraining his opponent’s legs. He leapt, thrusting the other man into a building face first. Derek was dazed, his face covered in bruises and cuts from the impact. Timothy was not done. Bracing himself again, he leapt, crashing into another building, leaping off, then crashing again. Over, and over, and over. Derek struggled, but Timothy’s grip was too tight. He would not be letting go.

  Finally, they spiralled back towards the town centre, Derek finally breaking free long enough to slow his descent with a webline. They both landed on the ground, skidding and crashing as they did so.

  The Order Squadron, still struggling with the townspeople and the Marauders, were stunned temporarily to see Timothy brought down. Then they turned their weapons on Derek, attacking him, striking him with clubs, striking him with their fists, some even attempted to shoot him, but he knocked out their guns with his webs before they could fire a shot off.

  Web Barrage: Area Spread!

  Spinning around, he sprayed the air and the militia with enough web to cover them and restrain them from moving. They struggled, but Timothy’s Order Squadron had no godsparks, they would not be escaping.

  Derek and Timothy now stood, facing each other once more.

  “You see…these people here understand the power of the Orisha. They bow to me,” Timothy said, gesturing towards the power of the militia, “They understand their position in this world. Why won’t you just do as you’re supposed to?”

  Derek spat, “If you think you’re the servant of a god, I’ll drag you down to earth, and judge you like the fool that you are.”

  Twisting themselves into Gods. Taking advantage of the human need for validation and
purpose. His lessons from West made this situation clear. Derek had wavered before, but he had found his answer in Karn, and he had found his determination.

  Twin weblines lanced out from his hands, attached to buildings. Derek launched himself into the sky, willing Timothy to follow.

  Timothy did as he had predicted, propelling himself into the air. He would not let Derek escape, he would not let the insult to his person go unpunished. They grappled in the air, a brief struggle. Derek kicked Timothy off him, freeing himself from his assailant. But the lieutenant wasn’t done. He landed on the side of a building and leapt off it right away.

  “You would fight me in the air,” Timothy taunted, “You overestimate yourself, little Icarus. I will pluck your wings, and skin you alive.”

  Northern Lights: Springer Rush!

  Timothy had propelled himself like a missile, his powerful legs pushing him onward and upwards, slamming into Derek mid-air and stunning the man. Spinning in the air, he caught the rooftop edge other building with his claw and propelled himself towards Derek again. He repeated the attack, once, twice, five times. Derek appeared helpless as Timothy battered him repeatedly in mid-air.

  All Derek could see was flashing lights as his bones cracked, muscles tore, and limbs splayed as he was buffeted with full body blows.

  As a crowd gathered underneath, Rachel, Douglas, Simon and Zeke arrived, having dispatched all the militia members they could find. The Marauders were taking care of the rest. Douglas made to move, but Zeke stopped him. He had a feeling Derek wasn’t finished yet.

  Twisting into the air once more, Timothy launched his final attack at Derek, extending his claws out. He would gut the other man while he was still helpless, ending the fight.

  Derek sensed the claws before he saw them and acted as if on instinct.

  As Timothy flew towards him, Derek reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, stopping his attack before it could reach him, for the most part. One of the claws still penetrated his own shoulders, but Derek already knew what he was going to do next.