Spiral of Silence (The Unearthed Series Book 3)

by Marc Mulero

  Her image flickered - a trapped soul - staring out with the same stoic look of the Sin Leader.

  Blague’s mouth parted in bafflement. “What…”

  And within the blink of an eye, she was gone.

  Sabin and Lesh rushed down Nepsys streets, past opulent homes and lavish constructs, all while gunfire raged in the distance.

  “I wonder who fired first,” Sabin thought aloud.

  “Not now… can’t think about it. Move.”

  They rounded a corner and nearly stopped short because of how odd the large levitating structure beyond them appeared. One of the floating orbs, no doubt, humming eerily as it struggled to stay in place. An upside-down pyramid at its base, one of intense magnetism, and a giant sphere suspended in mid-air above it. It could hold a hundred people easily, maybe two.

  “Whoa,” Sabin fought not to ogle it, “I mean… I know Hiezer architecture, yeah, you do too, princess of the Spade. But this. Wow.”

  “Shut up! We have to keep going!”

  “Imagine having a few of these during the Quake? Their heads probably weren’t even spinning when it was over.”

  “Ugh.” Lesh grabbed his arm and dragged him back into a sprint.

  Onward to the next block.

  Every turned corner presented another street of compacted Izodite, or another building of Ordinate structure. Each strip of land flaunted the city’s purpose: to protect the surface inhabitants from the uneasy world beneath them.

  “It’s a right here. Trust me, I’m a hunter for fuck’s sake. Hey! Don’t give me that look. Come back, come… ugh.”

  They found their way to the eastern spire with little interference, just as Eldra had promised. Her direction was flawless, using her authority to empty key points of sabotage and exploit the confusion of war to carry out her directive.

  And so they climbed the unguarded tower, lifted on a floating platform to the highest of points.

  “Okay. There it is… as promised.” Sabin pointed.

  An armament of almost alien design protruded at the base of the high ledge. Another plasmatic cannon, of the same type that Halewyn had to combat back on the frontlines. It was a feat of the Hiezers so powerful, so consuming, that it represented their prime line of defense if the Gates of Eternity were ever breached.

  “Sins and Rogues are dying, Lesh. If we don’t figure this out now, they’ll all be lost on their charge into Nepsys. So, uh, help me work this thing.” The hunter poked at the cannon, hoping the assassin had some ideas.

  Lesh stared at him in disbelief. Him… lecturing her? After having to drag him away from every shiny object that stood in their way… unbelievable.

  “Hmm,” he toiled, oblivious to her silent rage. Then bent over the spire ledge on his knees, he scanned the mechanisms surrounding the intricate weapon.

  A clear vial decorated with golden lines reached all the way to the ground, and perhaps beyond. He peered up to the protruding cylinder. The cannon was lined with chrome refractory metals, like microscope slides in a shelved box. Its mouth was wide and deadly, meant for destruction. It scared him, to be honest.

  “Eldra said it would be ready. There’s one internal lever, a charge reel, and two triggers,” Lesh said.

  Sabin dug into the metal’s clefts and poked around. “Some instructions would have been nice.” He then heard a tick and looked up to see Lesh’s eyebrow climb her forehead.

  The weapon began to whir.

  “Found it,” she announced.

  He wrapped his hand around a disc and began to crank it, increasing the temperature of the machine.

  They heard the anti-gravity lift activate behind them.

  “Someone must’ve seen us. You work on this. I’ll take care of them,” Lesh said.

  “Okay,” Sabin agreed and continued probing the cannon. He caught a strange scent that made him wince in place, but kept on moving to arm the weapon since he couldn’t quite place it.

  Veerm.

  It worked. Finally. Sun-colored plasma rose up from the long vial and heated the base of the machine. Sabin stood up, knowing that the weapon was now fully armed.

  “Time to wreak havoc.”

  The sound of another anti-gravity lift snapped into motion opposite Lesh’s position.

  This wasn’t expected. This was bad.

  At first instinct, Sabin ran a hand over his String Blade, briefly thinking back to when his father gifted it to him. Should he turn? Abandon the greater good? He heard screams of dying Hiezers to his right, so surely he could take out whatever leftovers were on their way, couldn’t he?

  But what would be the cost if he couldn’t?

  It was here, in this moment, that he lingered, thinking back to the cryptic message Aldarian had left him, about what it meant to be a leader…

  I wasn’t ready then, pops. You narcissistic asshole. But I am now.

  Sabin could’ve turned to stop the Hiezers rising to meet him, but there was the risk that he wouldn’t return to carry out his mission. Instead, he removed his hand from his String Blade and brought it to the triggers of the massive cannon.

  This thing is bigger than me. I have to do this for everyone I’m meant to protect.

  With both arms in front of him and fingers clenched, he rolled the weapon on its geared track to face the massive crowd of Hiezers beneath him. Without a second thought, he jammed down the triggers. The amount of power that released was incomprehensible. His entire body shook as an endless spear of plasma incinerated whole Hiezer squads in its path. Gunfire turned to Sabin from below, but he swung the weapon down the line, extinguishing a chunk of the elite force within an instant.

  Bodies evaporated into thin air.

  And when enough of the enemy forces were distracted, he released the trigger and ducked down from fire. He sat there for a second with a smile on his face, knowing that he accomplished what he’d set out to do – turning the fight inward on the Hiezers’ turf, and giving the rebellion a chance.

  Another anti-gravity lift appeared. The last one. And Sabin turned to face a lone Hiezer that rose to greet him. He reached for his pistol, but heard a thump resound from his body before he could even react.

  He froze.

  An odd sensation spread all throughout his arms and legs as he looked down. Color drained from his face, gun dropped and tumbled off of the ledge behind him.

  He was in shock, utter dismay… for a bullet had punctured his gut, blood fleeing from the gaping wound proved it.

  “No!” Lesh spat. She killed the assailant with three more knives than needed and rushed to the fallen hunter.

  She dropped to her knees and propped up her fellow commander, staring down with a harsh set of trembling eyes. “You idiot.” She scanned the wound and drew her radio. “This is Lesh. I need four Wings at the eastern spire, now!”

  With pained eyes and a smirk on his face, Sabin looked up at her. His fingers pressed over the wound that was painted with blood. “Four, huh. That’s a little excessive, don’t you think?” he laughed into a cough.

  She huffed, shaking her head and looking away. After a bout of impatience, Lesh lifted the radio to her mouth once more. A hand grabbed her arm before she could speak.

  “There aren’t any Wings close enough. We all knew the risks of this mission going in.” His hand slid down Lesh’s arm to find hers.

  At first, she tensed, and then finally let her fingers relax open to clasp his.

  He peered into the assassin’s eyes, unafraid of the blood escaping him, because if he was going to die… this is exactly how he’d want to go. His irises shined a vibrant gold, and that devilish grin never left his face.

  Lesh on the other hand, remained in a quiet panic, a feeling she wasn’t used to dealing with at all.

  The failing hunter attempted to raise himself up and rest on his elbows, wincing along the way. “Oh come on, Lesh, it’s not that bad. What did they do to you at the Society? You going soft on me?”

  Before he could open his eyes, Lesh
’s lips found his. Shock paralyzed his mind, leaving the jesting hunter speechless for the first time. And so they kissed amidst the fires of war – slowing time between them to capture whatever brief moment they could, until she pulled away.

  “That’s all it took? I just needed to get shot for you to kiss me?” Sabin laughed again. “So worth it.”

  They both glanced down to see Sabin’s hand now doused in gore. Her expression said everything. Whatever little color she had left in her face drained out within seconds. Even his humor couldn’t bring light to this. Nothing could.

  But then Sabin noticed a dose of energy rush back into her. “What are you doing - hey, wait, stop!”

  The assassin unsheathed a knife and cut through his half-cloak. She then shoved the edge between her teeth before rolling Sabin over to find an exit wound through his back.

  “Can’t I go with a little dignity, sheesh,” he said weakly.

  Blood was leaking out of his back. Another curse was muttered under her breath as she pulled the stripped cloth hard around the hunter’s torso, doing what she could to slow the bleeding.

  “Lesh,” Sabin’s tone became serious. “You have a mission to complete. You have to save the Sins. You know we don’t have the tech to compete, so go use that cannon,” his voice began to trail off.

  With the strength of ten men, Lesh hoisted Sabin effortlessly into her arms.

  “Shouldn’t this be the other way around,” Sabin tossed his last joke, before his face paled and his eyes closed.

  Lesh cursed under her breath while running onto the anti-gravity lift. She stared at Hiezer residences on her swift descent - vaguely recalling that each family had its own resident doctor on site - and then jumped before the lift could land.

  Her footsteps were as light as air, as if she weren’t hauling the deadweight hunter over her back. “C’mon, c’mon,” she kept on sprinting for the closest building, ignoring her worst enemy, time, and abandoning her mission for the first time in history.

  Always an assassin first, she’d cleared the roads for the Sin’s greater good and took life in the name of the rebellion. But not today. Not now. She felt as desperate and pathetic as the civilians she detested. But that didn’t stop her. She had to save him.

  Lesh slid to a halt in front of the first mansion she found. Shadows rushed by reflective glass plated around the home, ensuring there was frightened life inside. This was it… her only chance.

  Sabin slumped off of her shoulder as she propped him beside a regal door. She checked his pulse. Fading.

  “Open the fucking door! Now,” her voice was overwrought.

  Her fists slammed until she heard footsteps on the other side.

  “Rot in hell, Sin,” a woman’s voice called back, frightened, shocked, and furious that an exiled was walking freely through her streets.

  Lesh didn’t even have to think. There was no way she could bust down the door or shatter Ordinate glass. There was only one option. She tensed her jaw and shook like a bolt of electricity struck her. Within seconds, her mark burned with fury, Cryos overflowing from it to the point where it dripped down her hand and onto her knife. Once the weapon was imbued, she slid it under the door and then balled her fist, giving it life. The blade jumped and bit into the woman’s skin, leaving screams of horror to resonate on the other side.

  “With the twist of my hand, you die,” Lesh assured. “Now open the door!”

  “What are you!?” the woman’s peril was evident in her shout.

  “Last chance…”

  Other voices sounded within the walls - cries for aid.

  The door opened. A family of three women and a robed man came rushing to the Hiezer with a knife in her abdomen. Lesh was right. The male was a doctor, it was obvious even before he ran to the impaled woman in horror.

  Lesh grabbed him by his collar and whipped him outside. “No. Either you save him, or you’re all dead,” she promised.

  The doctor acknowledged the threat, keeping fearful eyes on the assassin. “Get my kit,” he yelled to the women.

  One of the three scrambled to do as he said, while the other – the Hiezer that Lesh had stabbed - slid to the floor quietly in trembling terror. Lesh shared the feeling for once. This couldn’t be it for him. It couldn’t.

  Kneeling down, the doctor inspected the hunter, then looked up with dread upon his face.

  Lesh’s eyes fell and the color drained from her face once more. “No,” she whispered.

  She looked around in desperation, before reaching inside for the impaled woman and dragging her into the light. “I will twist this knife and rip it up through her throat! One wrong word, doctor. I swear it.”

  The doctor shook his head in despair for all of the lives around him. He bent over and breathed a sigh for the hopeless cause. Sabin’s body was sprawled out on the cold ground with his half-cloak ripped open along with the leather armor beneath it. Skin paler than a pearl, stained with red.

  Drino’s shoulder was raw from a knife wound, where nearly every layer of skin was sliced clean off. The rest of his body was painted with welts and drenched in a fever’s sweat. Every move was agony. He glimpsed his old rival up ahead, General Ruden, moving like the wind with his troop. They made quick work of Sin fighters and Dactuar Crescents the same. To his right, Wes Howard pummeled rebellion soldiers, cracking jaws and breaking necks with his fists of fury. The Sin commander was failing his squadrons. It didn’t matter how many elites he tore open, the black and gold army fought strong. They alternated shield and rifle seamlessly, as he once trained them to. Pride betrayed the ex-general. He had to fall back.

  Drino turned with a limp. “Hold the line,” his voice carried as he stomped past his squad.

  Roars of battle sounded in his ears. Bullets clanked off shields in both directions. The scene was frantic, he was frantic. The war-torn commander stopped every soldier he could find, subordinate or not, in search of a weapon, anything, that could cauterize his wound. Even Rogues were finding themselves abruptly halted in the heat of battle, albeit Drino almost died a handful more times by stopping them so aggressively.

  He didn’t care though, and instead inspected each weapon on his way. A regular gun, no. Electrically charged devices, he thought about it - letting a Volt Unit fry his wound closed - but then thought better of it. No... even the mighty Drino would pass out from such a jolt. And where would the fun in that be? Miss the rest of the war? I don’t think so.

  He nodded to each Rogue that he’d stopped, pushing them forward after each assessment.

  Then a Vacal Wing stepped in his way, startling him and grabbing his arm without warning, a look of dismay etched into her face as she tugged him back.

  “We’re taking you to a MedVan, now,” she demanded.

  Drino grunted with disgust and pulled his arm away. “I need fire!” He harshly pushed past the woman, eyes crazed from lost time. Flaming bodies writhed along the spires, catching his attention. His gaze followed the source to the harpoon wielding Rogue overseer.

  “Jayce,” his depleted voice was lost in the sea of war.

  The pyro stepped on his harpoon’s claw, standing the pole straight up from the ground. He jammed the base of his weapon down into it, clicked his next spear into place and swung into position – flashy and posed. He was ready to impale his next victim, to light them ablaze, but a hand lurched him out of place. Jayce dashed back defensively and raised his weapon to spear Drino, thinking the worst.

  Drino’s breath became heavy, his palm held up. “Jayce. Cauterize it.” He nodded to his shoulder.

  Jayce glared over the torn man with shock.

  “What’s another scar?” Drino said dismissively. “Do it.”

  Reluctantly, the pyro ignited his harpoon and then shook out the flame. “Ready?” he asked before shoving the flat of the spear against Drino’s shoulder. Teeth gritted for the pain the Sin commander endured, his bellow coming deep from his broken body.

  A yell of anguish accompanied every exha
le. Jayce looked at him, stunned that he was still standing. Then his surprise turned into bafflement. Drino’s scarred face and combed blond hair quivered as his voice of pain turned into a laugh of insanity. Explosions gave color to the madness.

  “We’re going to kill them all!” he proclaimed with a hellish smile, energy coursing through his veins.

  Jayce smiled back. “Yes, we are.” The flashy Rogue spun to find his next target upon the gates, laughing with Drino in their enjoyment of the sickness of war.

  The Hiezer Protective Order proved their worth. They withstood the wrath of the largest force in the New World’s history. But still, it wasn’t long before the bottom of the hierarchy overran the luminescent city.

  The Sin frontlines and covert commanders already did the heavy lifting. Bullets couldn’t stop them. There were too many. Explosions were just temporary, fuel to the fire. The Hiezers made enemies with the world. And the world was not to die quietly.

  Eternity was short-lived for the Grand City. Elites had prepared endlessly to keep invaders out, but hadn’t considered hard enough what to do if there was a defector within. The gates were open, compliments of the late Ice Queen. Plasmatic cannons disrupted Hiezer lines on the ground level. Sabin and the Champion did their parts. Snipers above were lit ablaze by Jayce’s scorching harpoon, or electrocuted by Coe’s bolts. Corpses of the world’s citizens were piled all around, their lives sacrificed in the name of freedom. Sin, Yuprain, Terra, Remdon, Templos, Vacal, Dactuar. All the way up the chain, the hierarchy gave life to bring down the Hiezer reign. And they had won.

  Chapter 24

  Blague made for the door without haste, letting destiny guide him for the first time. His calculating mind was now switched off by his own accord. He was complete, done, and content with whatever the wheel of fate chose: to fall with his family or to escape with his flesh.

  Ancient stones from deep beneath the ground clapped the bridge, taking slabs with it and leaving the rest to falter. Death may be yet in the cards.