by Ryan DeBruyn
Its foot lashed out, and Rocky stepped behind Yin-Yang’s other foot. He slashed out, holding his skill in his sword, as the golem’s foot stomped the ground. The blade cut into the onyx and marble like butter, nearly severing the creature’s ankle. Yin-Yang shouted and flailed wildly, pushing off and jumping away. The golem successfully disengaged, and spiderwork fractures crackled along his ankle. Rocky charged his opponent. He needed to end this—and fast.
Rocky minimized a notification.
Congratulations! You have learned a new skill.
Hamstring
● You are particularly good at striking at opponents’ vulnerable ankles and achilles tendons. Each strike to a load-bearing limb in the future will impart a movement slowing debuff. The debuff will reduce movement by an additional 1% per point in this skill.
Current rank: Weak level 1.
Yin-Yang’s landing shook the ground, and humans screamed as rubble shifted near him.
Yin-Yang took a first step with its injured foot and cried out. Its leg crumpled, bringing the monster to its knees. In Dark Cloaked form, Rocky charged at Yin-Yang and it struck out at him, punching forward with one hand and simultaneously clapping its other two hands together.
Rocky’s body tensed as a half-second stun debuff climbed through his vision and onto the top corner of his interface. The golem’s fist connected with Rocky’s left arm, spinning him away with a sickening crunch.
He crashed onto the ground, and fire tore across his left side as he rolled over. His adrenaline shot him back to his feet as his hand hung limply at his side. Swallowing back vomit at the sight of his swelling shoulder and bicep, he changed his sword to liquid and grabbed a healing potion while stacking two Dark Mends.
Yin-Yang wobbled as it stood up. The golem’s retreat had cost its foot. “I will grind all of your bones to powder. You will die in the worst way imaginable. I will make injuries seem like blessings when I am through with you.”
Rocky clenched his teeth as his bones began rearranging themselves in his arm. He downed the Health Potion before walking away. “Next time I see you, I will remove another extremity. ‘Til then.” He raised his fist with one finger extended over his shoulder, knowing the Dark Cloak covered the gesture but feeling it was necessary.
Yin-Yang howled a string of hatred behind him, and tried to jump toward his retreating form. The unstable leap left the golem nearly defenseless. Rocky turned and added two more Dark Blades into his forming sword, for a combined total of four.
Just as the golem reached its peak and began falling back to the earth, Rocky punched his blade out in a one-handed thrust and released. Yin-Yang had a moment to look surprised before the blow skewered its chest. Thankfully, its body put up enough resistance to change the course of its flight. Instead of falling atop Rocky, its corpse crashed into the ground.
The golem’s landing shifted more rubble, and Rocky was too much of a coward to find out if that meant more deaths. He wasn’t sure he could handle any more loss. He fixed his gaze on Yin-Yang. This moment should mean so much more, but it rang hollow. So many innocent lives lost.
He was surprised to find that there were no other golems around him—the fight with Yin-Yang would normally have drawn them. Yin-Yang was reckless, tossing other golems skyward with his skills as much as enemies. Perhaps the nut job had alienated his fellow intelligent golems.
If it hadn’t wanted to kill me so badly, I would not have won that fight.
He held back a cry as his arm popped painfully, his shoulder joint reforming, then snapping back into proper alignment.
His Health bar was barely half full. Even after a potion. Yin-Yang’s blow had been dangerously close to killing him. His Ether bar was worse, sitting at twenty-five points.
The hour timer ticked over, and his Shadow Clone flashed out of existence. An intense headache flared into existence as his Ether Pool attempted to supply the demand, then rebounded into him. It was the first time he had experienced the excruciating sensation, and he fell to the ground. Fighting through the searing pain, he crawled in the direction where his clone had been. His family was so close.
A calm feminine voice reverberated through the city, “Brothers, group up and coordinate your attacks. These mosquitoes only live because of our inadequacy.”
Rocky continued to crawl as the city shook around him, evidence of golems moving around. He hoped that would mean that the escape would grow easier.
A golem shouted, “Slaves are escaping to the north. Traitors—” the voice cut off, but the information echoed through other golems.
Empire’s voice boomed out. “Golems in the north, engage the escaping slaves. All other golems form on me. It’s time to destroy these tiny flying insects.” A bright light glowed from the approximate location of the massive mound of rubble.
Rocky continued dragging himself toward his family, gravel digging into his forearms. His Health and Ether continued to increase and the pain in his head lessened. He rose to his feet and limped in the direction. Then walked, and finally sprinted. “Nadine! Lacy! Where are you?”
The dirty red of his sister’s hair poked out from behind concrete, and he grinned ear to ear. He rushed over to find her hovering over their mother. Unable to control himself, he pulled both women into a tight hug. When his sister pushed him away, he remembered where they were. He pulled rations out of his bag, followed by two Health potions. “Here, eat all of this and then drink the potion.”
His sister didn’t take a bite right away, but his mother did. “Who or what was that thing that puffed into black smoke a few minutes ago? It looked like you, but it wouldn’t talk to us,” Lacy asked.
“It was my Shadow Clone. Now eat.”
Nadine Shealds
Apprentice-Gourmet
Level 11
Health Points 55 / 110
Starving
--
Lacy Obs
Apprentice-Witch
Level 12
Health Points 68 / 80
Starving
He quickly moved through his tabs and invited his sister and mother to his guild. then shared all the quests with them. It might mean nothing if he couldn’t get them out of this death trap, but it could also mean they would gain a great deal of levels if they survived.
Other survivors inched toward him, and he motioned them over. He handed out rations to those who came close, and that tempted others to join. He withheld the potions, knowing it was unfair, but he only had five left. He added any who accepted to the guild and shared the quests with them. Some tried to ask questions, but he shushed them. There would be time for answers later.
He jogged through the streets back toward Epsilon’s last known position. The journey back was much slower with all the survivors in tow, but he was grateful that the food and Health Potion had made a drastic difference for his mother and sister. He clicked his radio and identified himself before asking, “How are we doing?”
Epsilon responded first. “We grouped back up and are perhaps a mile north of my previous position. There are too many enemies to hold individually, but we still have the corridor.”
Smith was next. “We have too many survivors already to load onto the ship. We have sent one load back to the Territory and are evacuating north under military escort. Rocky, I estimate there are more than one hundred thousand humans who have escaped.”
That was good news. Well, mostly good news. Rocky doubted that there would be a seamless transition into the Territory, but most of these people had spent the last few months as slaves. An explosion a few hundred meters to the left snapped him out of his thoughts. It was far too early to celebrate.
His Ether pool crossed over the halfway mark and he summoned his Shadow Clone. A Mechano-Lord swooped down from above and scanned the area before absorbing some metal and returning to the safety of the sky. Had it seen him?
“Halt, slaves!” A golem stepped into view in front of his group. The concrete construct was composed of grey stone with re
d accents, its body covered with protruding stone-carved faces. Rocky’s skin crawled.
Rocky used Analyze on it.
Metropolitan
Master-Historian
Level 44
Health Points: 4230 / 4450
“I have no desire to destroy you humans, but I cannot let you leave.” Metropolitan entered an awkward fighting stance.
Rocky looked his mom and sister in the eyes. “Follow my clone. Get everyone out of here, and I will hold this thing back.”
Before his mother could protest, his sister grabbed her arm, tugging her away. The survivors followed them and they broke into a jog.
Metropolitan tilted its head curiously at the side-skirting group. It stepped forward to give chase and Rocky shouted, “Your fight is with me, Museum!”
The golem stopped and looked down, surprised by the confrontation. It towered over him, its eyes flashing away, and its mouth moving silently.
Rocky let it struggle with its indecision and clicked his radio. “Epsilon, I sent my family forward with my clone, I need you—”
An explosion cut him off, narrowly missing the fleeing group of survivors. Four Mechano-Lords coasted down, landing in front of his family and the hundred-plus survivors led by his clone. Rocky cursed at himself in all manner of replacement language.
Ernest descended slowly above Metropolitan and shouted, “It was Rockland, wasn’t it? I believe it's time I destroy you and the rebellion you represent.” His pattern of speech was off, and Rocky knew it was Dahrix behind the wheel.
“Rockland, what happened? You cut off.” Epsilon’s voice came through the earpiece.
He couldn’t answer, and his brain whirred, searching for an exit strategy for his family. He drew a complete blank, especially with the four Mechano-Lords training their weapons on the group.
Metropolitan picked up a golem arm and slung it like a boomerang at Ernest. The crux of the elbow connected full-on with Ernest’s back. Rocky expected the heavy concrete would knock the Floridian from the sky, but instead, his boosters kicked in and untangled his body by blasting him upward and disengaging him with a shriek of abused metal.
Rocky activated his Stealth skill and took off toward the other four Mechano-Lords. If he was going to use his Ether, it would be to save his family. He glanced up and saw his points stagnating at seventy. He pulled out an Ether Draught and chugged it on the run. A fourth stack joined his diminishing returns debuff. He only had three of the Ether potions remaining.
He clicked his radio. “I need help to your south, Epsilon. Ernest is here. Protect my family.”
“On route.”
He ordered his clone to lead his mother and sister away once he distracted the Mechanos. He climbed a debris pile, clearing his line of sight, and released a double stack of Dark Blade at the four hovering robots. The blades struck and screeched against metal, pushing the boosters for an instant before they compensated.
The boosters flared and pushed Rocky’s skill back toward him. “Run, now!”
Just as the four pushed his Dark Blade skill aside, Azoth crashed into two of them, dragging them to the ground. Stunned, Rocky wondered how Azoth was here. He was supposed to be with Sela, flying south. Rocky leaped with all of his strength and skewered a third robot. His added weight behind the thrust disabled the robot, and it fell to the ground.
Rocky’s eyes tracked the fourth Mechano as if it moved in slow motion. It turned its back, and for a split second, he was confused, until he spotted its target. The fleeing survivors, maybe one hundred meters away, sprinted for everything they were worth—his clone, sister, and mother in the lead. Pieces of metal broke off from the Mechano-Lord and ignited, creating bursts of intense light. Rocky screamed and threw every drop of Ether he had into his sword. His thrusting Dark Blade ripped from Dark Tidings as a monstrous headache punched him in the cranium.
Everything moved slowly. One second, the six small missiles were beside the robot, and then they inched away. His lancing Dark Blade was on his sword, and then it was closing in. Everything clicked forward again as the explosions rocked the survivors. Rocky didn’t even see what his Dark Blade did to the cursed metal. He was too busy watching the humans being flung into the air like bowling pins.
The Mechano-Lord underneath Rocky grabbed his long hair and slammed him into the ground. He looked at the sky and found an impassive face of metal.
“It doesn’t matter which of my creations kill you, as long as you’re dead,” Dahrix’s voice spoke through the construct.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Rocky felt dizzy, his head ringing, as a metal hand attempted to turn his brain to paste. He reacted instinctually, using a disengaging slash from his Seraphim Sword. His spinning wrist and blade scored deep into the mechanical wrist and forced the Mechano-Lord to release him.
He clenched his core and reversed his slash, connecting with the other arm as it came in. The robotic creature took a step back, and Rocky hopped to his feet. He turned his body sideways and returned to a half kneel, narrowly avoiding a laser bolt fired from the tracking eyes of his enemy.
Rocky used his grounded knee and lunged forward, thrusting at the Mechano-Lord’s metallic throat. The point of his blade slid across the surface before gaining purchase. With a screech, the point tore out a side of the metal neck.
Black liquid spurted, and the creature clamped a hand onto the wound. Rocky slashed forward, again and again, taking advantage of the close range. This was his domain, and he wasn’t going to let this abomination get away.
His opponent finally crumbled into an oily black mess, and Rocky finally had time to catch his breath. Something had happened a moment before—what was it?
All of his strength fled and his knees collapsed. His family! Ernest landed in front of him, waving a hand at Rocky.
He swung sloppily from his knees. Ernest swayed backwards to avoid the strike and started talking.
He wants to taunt me. I will turn him into a grease stain like his friend!
He didn’t understand the words. They wouldn’t register. He didn’t care. He stood and kept attacking. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and Ernest easily parried each blow, toying with him.
Rocky activated Dark Cloak as his anger fueled his frenzied attacks. He didn't use a form, just desperately tried to connect the blade to metallic flesh. Even with Dark Cloak hiding some of his movements, Ernest dodged and batted his sword away.
Ernest fired fists into Rocky’s Dark Cloak. The ability maneuvered them away from his body, and Rocky seized any opportunity to hit Ernest. He scored a few strikes on steel before Ernest's attacks overwhelmed his cloak. A fist collided with his head and he spun to the ground.
***
A bell rang and Rocky tried to concentrate on the muffled voices.
“Rockland, snap out of it. Dmitri interrupted the beacon and is in the process of destroying it.” The voice was Ernest, and as soon as Rocky registered that the man wasn't hostile, he half stumbled, half crawled to the site of the explosions.
Azoth loped up beside him as he struggled. His pet must have either finished off his two opponents or realized they had reverted to human control. He didn't bother checking. Rocky's mind focused on finding his family.
He found scattered bodies covered in blood and death. He discovered his sister's arm and his mother's leg, but he didn't see them. His Dark Cloak pulsed with each heartbeat. His anger swelled, then left on the tide of the pulses. His brain ached, and he ran from corpse to corpse. None of the bodies were theirs.
He cried then, uncaring if a golem came by and ended his life. His cloak stuttered and pulsed around him, swirling like his tangled emotions. His anger surrounded and extinguished all other feelings.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, crying. When he stood up, only Azoth was beside him. His radio buzzed a few times with information and he ignored it. He yanked it out of his ear and stomped on it.
His body convulsed and he roared at the sky. Azoth joined his lion’s ro
ar, and neither of them stopped until Rocky ran out of breath. Even then, he took another lungful and roared at the ground.
Tears streamed down his face, and Azoth nudged him.
Ernest stepped into his field of vision and said, “I am sorry Rockland, I should have listened—”
Rocky pointed at the hovering robot, and spat. “Don't say it. It is too late now—look around you. Look at the death your 'patron' wants!” His cloak pulsed out and expanded, seeming to attempt to grasp Ernest.
Rocky formed his sword and tried to attack the robotic man, but his head rang and he fell to a knee.
He checked his Ether bar, assuming it had bottomed out, but found it holding near fifty points. His Dark Cloak had somehow disengaged, but the fog still hovered in a wide circle. Engulfing Azoth beside him and nearly claiming Ernest. The spike of pain shook him out of his all-consuming rage long enough to grab a tenuous hold on the reins of his anger.
Before he went on a rampage, Rocky climbed unsteadily to his feet and mounted up. The moment he climbed out of the fog, the Floridian spoke again. “I get it. We will do everything we can to help your people escape. What is left of my men will hold the corridor, for as long as possible. When this is over—please come talk with me.”
Rocky's hand shook as he tied himself into Azoth’s saddle. Fighting back tears, he choked, “Anywhere but here or the Territory, Azoth!”
Epilogue
Sela landed at the evacuation site. She had been heading south with Azoth to destroy the beacon when the satellite team told her of a conflict at the Port. The man Rocky had put his trust in had organized a rebellion to disrupt the signal. Or at least she hoped so. It would have taken her a few hours to fly south, and the evacuation needed her organizational skills here in New York anyway.