Calla had never seen her sister like this. They had faced Phantoms together before, yes, but this was different. Never before had Raina had to defend her own mind against intruders. Whatever was inside those walls, she wasn’t going to let her face it.
“COVER!” Chana bellowed, throwing herself behind a Warhound as a Steel Idol, burning apart in a flurry of flames and plasma burns, was sent sprawling into their midst.
Before it could roll further and crush any of the legionnaires, Valkyrie threw up a wall of energy and halted its movement. It crashed into the telekinetic barrier with a dull thud and when it was clear enough dead, she wiped a tear of blood from her eye.
“Raina, you need to withdraw…this is too much for you. I will not stand here and let you be injured” Calla said, laying a hand on her shoulder plate in a loving, concerned expression.
But Raina couldn’t hear the worry through her hate for the enemy and she snapped back, “Don’t, Calla…don’t. I will fight here as much as any of you will. The worst is past”.
Calla was hurt by her sourness, but knew how she must have felt. This was the first time that Raina had ever felt vulnerable. Of course she was upset, of course she wanted vengeance. She gave Raina an understanding look that was returned with the slightest of smiles and the tension between them was forgotten.
They seemed to remember the battle around them at the same time. The immediate area was so busy that they could barely move. The burnt out skeletons of legion tanks were scattered all around, providing immovable obstacles that the remaining forces had to weave around if they wanted a clean shot at the enemy. The Phantom armour, less impeded, spread out and although they numbered fewer than the Guardians, they were menacing and harsh.
Like the outbreak of a new, bigger storm, the noise of the battlefield was overwhelmed momentarily as the city wall on the right flank of the assault force blew apart the same way as the left had done. It was the perfect reflection of the first demolition and though it was hard to see that far, Calla could hear the second ambush spiralling into the legions without mercy or respite.
“Sister…hold the flank” she told Raina as she took form and headed to the core.
Confused by her sister’s direction, Raina waved a group of legionnaires forward to the left flank before yelling “Where are you going?” in her body’s natural voice.
To help breach the gates, Calla replied without turning round. Now a proud, fearsome white wolf that rivalled the size of the Lion, she changed her pace to a run as she sought out the centre of the legion forces. The legionnaires she passed looked on with a mix of fear and awe, but it was the hearts of the enemy she wanted to tear out.
In moments she arrived in the area of the field where the 617th and their Warhound allies continued to stave off the remaining Steel Idols. Nostrils flaring and her feet itching to carve the lives out of the Phantoms’ disgusting forms, she picked a target and attacked.
ON THE RIGHT flank, Phoenix was more prepared than Calla and Valkyrie had been. As the wall cascaded down onto the ground, the enemy was met with a vicious volley of fire from the entire Warhound contingent and infantry legions that stood ready waiting for them. Phoenix couldn’t have known for certain that the strike would occur, but she was damned if she wouldn’t take heed of the left flank and steel her own forces against ambush.
The effect of the Guardian’s counter attack was impressive, an annihilation of the Phantom initiative instantaneous and absolute. Enemy armour burned before they could even push out from the city and unleash their own firepower. The legionnaires roared in defiance.
That hope was soon expunged as larger tanks, hidden behind the initial Phantom force, rolled forward between their burning allies. Bringing their monstrous turrets to bear, the enemy began to return fire. The nearest Warhounds were struck and destroyed in a series of hits, debris flying into nearby legionnaires and cutting them to pieces. The Guardians rallied and fought back, eager to avenge their fallen with every shell and bullet.
Phoenix, Whitewolf, Gaia and Nightingale. To me, the Lion commanded. She looked around herself. Her legion was taking a brutal beating and she doubted that her transfer to the core was best for them. A tank to her right was turned into a fireball and she took form just as the flames reached her. The heat washed over her harmlessly and she conjured a spear of fire at the Phantom tank responsible. Its barrel melted just as its foul crew reloaded the gun. When it fired, it blew itself apart.
Distracting her from the battle, she felt an icy touch on her shoulder so cold that it rivalled the ferocity of her fiery body. Startled, she turned to see Waterfox at her side, forcing the temperature of his hand to sub-zero just so he could touch her and get her attention. No-one had ever been able to touch her when she was in form before. Did it even hurt him, or were they balanced by being polar opposites?
“Go, Phoenix” he said, his words leaving his lips in a cold mist. “I and Cerberus have the flank”.
Phoenix looked back at the legions reinforcing her own and saw Cerberus leap over several Warhounds in a single jump. His gigantic, canine form was as agile as it was terrifying. He was charging toward the horde of paradigms spilling like an obscene tidal wave from the broken wall to face the legion lines.
“My Grace, the Dawntreaders and Hellhounds have fully reinforced the frontline from the far right,” Akurei came over. “We should move to the core without further delay”.
Phoenix looked at her curiously. How had the commander known what the Lion had said only to the Apostles? Perhaps she simply had the same idea, a mere coincidence.
The two supporting legions, the 906th and 73rd respectively, belonged to her fellow Apostles Waterfox and Cerberus. Phoenix had not seen them in action until today, but she saw how closely the legionnaires matched their leaders. The 906th were practically as fluid as their Apostle, weaving between the maelstrom of battle to meet the enemy head-on with relentless volleys of pulsar fire. As whole platoons charged forward in close combat with the paradigms, they dodged and darted away from the enemy attacks as though their armour granted them a speed and agility that no other legion could claim to have. The 73rd followed Cerberus into the fray without fear, spectral flames dancing around their bodies and making them look like executioners from the Underrealm, ghastly enough even to unsettle the Phantoms. They ran through the front lines even as the enemy tanks blew entire squads apart. Death did not scare them; it encouraged them, called to them even.
“Be invulnerable, Oz” Phoenix eventually replied, satisfied that the flank would be safe in their hands.
“When you’re made of liquid, it’s hard to be anything else” he grinned. Without further comment he joined his legion in repelling the Paradigm assault and she allowed herself a second to appreciate his character.
When a legionnaire cried out to her right, struck by a volley of Phantom fire, the sound snapped Phoenix back to her priorities. She waved a medic over to the fallen Guardian and commanded her legion towards the core of the assault force. She was eager to help the Lion breach the city gates and end this battle; too much blood had been shed already and it was time the enemy were finished.
She could see the other Apostles move in to support him as well and marvelled at the speed and efficiency of the reorganisation. As the four Chosen’s legions shifted position, others plugged the gaps they left so seamlessly the firing line never softened to the enemy.
On the left flank, Solitaire remained to support Valkyrie. Phoenix had grown up with the former, seeing her as a true younger sister, but she always knew the day would come when the war would force them to fight apart. She could no longer look after her the way she had always done. The complexity of battle was far too great for that now.
In many ways, she was glad that Valkyrie had Solitaire out of all of them for support. The ambush on the left flank had been more brutal than on the right and it needed the tactical genius that the youthful Apostle had. Her nature may have confused the others, but Phoenix understood it without misca
lculation. Solitaire was not everything she seemed, but the enemy was likely to see that sooner than the Apostles today.
Phoenix glanced one last time at the men and women around her all fighting with their lives to save a people they had never seen. She blazed intensely with pride for the legions’ wrath for the enemy. Projecting her voice so that every member of the Fireblades legion could hear, she gave them the battle cry that the Apostles had taught them, “Retyr Auranair!”
She ran with them to the broken gatehouse with all the intention of winning the battle herself, if needs be. It was time to take back the city and end this.
A SALVO OF rockets flew into the last Steel Idol as it raised its arms to protect itself. The Lion had danced around it, distracting it from the vulnerable legionnaires as it thrashed out wildly in a desperate attempt to take as many of them with it to the grave. He hadn’t stayed for long, though; with thousands of paradigms pouring into the flanks, there were a hundred cries of pain as the legionnaires were slain for the Phantoms’ entertainment. Arcadius couldn’t blame the First Apostle for not knowing where to turn, but he wished the Lion had stayed long enough to defeat the last Idol. Perhaps he knew something Arcadius didn’t, though.
With the rest of its kin destroyed, the machine had the entire energy of its controller focussed through it, and swathes of Guardians lay dead by its hands. The legions’ firepower, now a relentless torrent thrown without cessation at the final machine, barely scratched the Phantom’s armour. Whatever was behind it was using all its strength and channelling it through this walking avatar. Suddenly it unfurled its defensive posture, as though realising it had nothing to fear and the faces sewn onto its front screamed in defiance and torturous rage.
Arcadius had overheard other legionnaires reaching the conclusion that the Idols were wearing the skin of the capital’s human inhabitants. Like them, he was repulsed by the horrific likelihood of that theory and sought to end the atrocity with newfound stoicism.
The Phantom’s right arm turned liquid as its master started to change the shape of the puppet limb and mould it into a new weapon. Where there was a cruel fist before made bloody with its victims, now two muzzles from a twin-barrelled heavy machine gun glared at the Guardians with sinister hunger.
“Get down!” Sulla yelled, tackling Arcadius to the floor as the Phantom opened fire.
Bullets tore into the legionnaires around them who were slower to react, turning them into gory rags and boneless waste. The next few volleys panged harmlessly off a Warhound nearby which had been firing without pause at the enemy tanks now pouring out the city on the left and right flanks. The Phantom’s gun stopped chattering then, the contorted faces rivalling its expressive gait, but Arcadius could detect its gesture of angry surprise that the tank was impervious to its new toy.
The Steel Idol’s left arm changed in a flash, a snarling missile pod now its place. It loosed a full, unforgiving salvo on the blissfully ignorant Warhound. The Phantom was determined to destroy everything in its path regardless of how tough it was. The explosive warheads flew into the flank of the Guardian vehicle faster than Arcadius could track. There wasn’t even time to cry out a warning. There was a cacophony of noise as the blasts joined together and tore the turret from the vehicle, but when he thought the Idol was done, two survivors clambered out and were cut down by its machine cannons. He could swear the thing had smiled when its right arm proved useful again.
Dismayed, the legionnaires around the tank unlatched their gauss grenades and rolled them under the walker. The Phantom looked at the weapons that would undo it at its feet and kicked them back like child’s play. Stunned by its agility and with no time to move aside, it was the Guardians who were flash-flayed alive.
Arcadius watched with regret and outrage as he saw legionnaires he had served with since their creation die. He withdrew from the immediate area, knowing that he didn’t have the firepower to deal with the threat. In truth, none of them did. As he turned, he heard the sound of its thick legs stomp after him and dread filled his heart.
He ran round the side of the latest wrecked Warhound and collided with another legionnaire. They crashed to the ground together even as the Idol chased him with its brutal guns. For some reason he thought it would be Sulla, but he knew she was behind him. When he caught the eyes of the Guardian now helping him up, he saw something he did not expect to find amongst all the blood, death and pain surrounding him; he found beauty.
“Get up, legionnaire!” she yelled over the noise of war.
“W-who-“ Arcadius began.
She shook her head in frustration of his stupidity to move. “Commander Akurei of the 77th Fireblades” the woman answered, pulling him away from a salvo of bullets and hoping her tone of authority would be enough snap him into attention. It didn’t seem to work, so she shouted at him again. “MOVE!”
He finally did as he was told and watched as she sped around him with a squad of the 77th. They laid down supporting fire on the Steel Idol as a legionnaire fumbled to set-up an AGG-II, resting it on the hull of the Warhound. Another squad flanked the walker to its right and a third came in support of Akurei with a rocket launcher.
“Lukas, we need that weapon up faster!” Akurei insisted as a rocket flew into its midriff harmlessly. Despite the danger they were all in, Arcadius couldn’t help but watch the 77th as they fought. Or was he watching the woman that had saved his life?
“I’m trying!” the legionnaire she called Lukas replied. He finally fixed the tripod onto the gun and set the barrel down. He checked the gun was clear and took aim at the Steel Idol, but was never able to fire. A round from the Phantom’s gun took his head cleanly off his shoulders, showering his squad in gore.
Without a moment’s hesitation, as if she wasn’t surprised or even upset by Lukas’ bloody death, Akurei took over and slammed the magazine for the AGG-II home. The Idol was so large that she didn’t need to worry much about aiming the weapon as she washed the Phantom with streams of heavy pulsar fire. Arcadius took cover next to the squad and watched with expected disappointment as the gun did nothing but urge the walker closer to them as its next target.
“That’s not going to work!” he yelled to Akurei.
“We know that, we’re baiting it!” the commander replied.
Arcadius didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at how ludicrous that was. As if to answer his next question, a spear of flame jetted from nearby and wrapped the Steel Idol in a tornado of fire. With it blind, another supernatural assailant took the opportunity and unleashed her power, using her manipulation of nature to turn the floor underneath the Phantom into quicksand.
Arcadius knew before he saw them that the Apostles Phoenix and Gaia had arrived. The walker sank into the ground gradually at first and then it dropped into the ground to its waist as the affected sand took its toll. All around, the legionnaires who had been focussing their fire on the more vulnerable Paradigm hosts, now swarming to the core from both flanks, concentrated their volleys on the trapped, blaring machine.
With its gun still firing wildly, slaying the odd Guardian as its sporadic targeting struck flesh and armour, Phoenix amplified her attacks. Increasing the temperature of her body until it seemed as though she was actually made from lava, she formed a fireball of heat beyond fathom between her hands and took aim at the Phantom’s cannon.
The sphere of fire reached the gun with perfect accuracy, splashing over the weapon and overwhelming the resilient metal of the Idol like a candle to paper. The barrels fused together so quickly the Phantom didn’t have time to prevent itself from firing in one last attempt. Bullets exploded as the distortion in the chambers impeded their path. They set off in serial fashion, tearing the limb from the Idol in a conflagration of fire and screeching steel.
Akurei ceased fire and threw her gauss grenade at the downed machine. This time it was too distracted by its own pain and defeat to use its last limb to deflect the small orb that would end it. The grenade detonated with terrifying force, ato
mising the majority of the Phantom’s chest in a heartbeat.
Now in its death throes, it thrashed about maniacally, the last few missiles launching from its pod even as the energy driving it failed completely. Arcadius watched as the missiles raced through the air and blew up prematurely.
He saw Akurei grin and followed her gaze to look at Phoenix, who had used her heat to ignite the missiles mid-air, lowering her fiery hands pleased with her prevention of the Idol’s final attack. Without needing any instruction, the commander charged forward with her Apostle to the breached gates of the city.
Searching for legionnaires from his own legion, Arcadius was heartened to see Sulla still on her feet. He joined her quickly and took formation in his squad. Checking his rifle was loaded before they went forward with the assault, he heard a chorus of clicks and clacks as the other legionnaires did the same. They were all thinking the same thing; the Phantoms inside had to be exterminated and none of them were going to take prisoners anytime soon.
Legionnaires of the core assault. Now we finish this. Into the breach! The Lion yelled to them all, appearing again from the flanks and leading the attack from the front. Arcadius saw Whitewolf was by his side, elements of her own legion now marching alongside the 617th. Had the Lion gone to help her get to the centre? Had he abandoned his legion for his companion?
Arcadius chastised himself for even daring to think the Apostle could do something so careless. He must have called Phoenix and Gaia to the centre, after all. Deciding it wasn’t his place to question his Lord, Arcadius focussed on preparing himself for whatever was waiting for them in the city. With his gun held tight in his hands and a growing sense of confidence, he ran toward the walls and joined the charge.
LUPUS RAN ACROSS the burnt sand under the city gatehouse, crushing lumber and metal alike underfoot. Guardians from a multitude of different legions were with him as he raced inside. The four Apostles that he requested come with him were nearby, leading their own troops into battle.
The Deian War: Vermillion's Apostles Page 36