“Hey Rio,” Pete hollered, “Any chance you’ve got my encoder?”
“Why would I have it?” Rio responded.
“Never mind, got it.” Pete pulled a thin, electronic tablet device out from under his pants. “It was between my-”
“Don’t need the particulars, Pete,” Rio grunted, cutting him off. “Just get us out’a here.”
An amused grin spread across Pete’s face as he poked at the cracked screen of his encoder, trying to get it to work.
“You guys make quite the couple,” Kiara quipped, joining the rest of the group watching Pete work. “What even is that thing?”
“It’s an encoder,” Keith chimed in. “It scans for any coded technology around and copies the data onto the screen, where you can edit it and send it back.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Suriel said.
“That’s probably because it’s illegal, Your Highness,” Keith said, sneaking Rio a critical glare. Rio grunted and looked the other way.
“I’m surprised the Decrepit didn’t confiscate it,” Kiara remarked.
“They didn’t need to,” Rio responded. “After they bite you, the hunger’s so strong, it takes over the entire mind. There’s no chance of plannin’ an escape.”
“Hey, fellas,” Pete interrupted, looking up at them. “My encoder’s out’a juice. I’m gonna need’a drain your PDs.”
“What do you mean, drain them?” Kiara asked, puzzled.
“Don’t ask questions, girl,” Rio said. “Just give him the damned things before the Decrepit return.” He swung his lazy eye over to Suriel. “You too.”
Kiara and Suriel quickly gathered their PDs from the floor and brought them to Pete. One by one, he split open each PD, accessing its batteries and circuitry. Opening a small hatch in the back of the encoder, he removed a tiny metal clamp connected to a wire and connected it to the PD’s battery. Once he’d finished, he closed the hatch and tried again to activate his device.
“That’s my girl!” Pete exclaimed as the screen lit up. He placed the device against the stone, and a sequence of numbers and letters flooded the screen. Pete pressed down on the bottom of the device, and a blue, holographic keyboard projected out from the top.
“The lock operations for the door are located in a computer under this stone,” Pete explained as he typed. “I’ve never seen any code like this before, but it’s nothin’ I can’t piece together.”
Suddenly, the keyboard began to flicker.
“No, no, no!” Pete stammered, pounding the floor with his fist. With one last flicker, the projection dissipated, and the screen turned black.
“What happened?” Kiara asked worriedly.
“It wasn’t enough energy,” Pete sighed, shaking his head in defeat.
“Hey, Keith,” Rio said, stepping forward to face him. “You’re a Builder too, aren’t ya? You just gonna stand there like an idiot, or you wanna lend Pete a hand?”
Keith glared angrily at Rio, rolling his eyes. He looked to Suriel and Kiara for sympathy but found none.
“Fine,” Keith grunted, stomping over to Pete. As he bent down beside Pete to take a look, Rio took a step closer to them, watching Keith with a hostile, calculating glare. He extended an outstretched hand in the man’s direction.
“Rio?” Kiara said nervously, noticing the look on his face. “What are you-”
Before she could finish, he closed his hand into a fist and yanked it back. Keith screamed with pain and surprise. He toppled to the floor as a small, electronic implant tore out from the back of his neck and flew to Rio’s hand like a magnet.
“What did you do!?” Kiara yelled, watching in horror as Keith squirmed for a second on the floor, then grew still. Suriel’s eyes widened in shock, then he raged over to Rio.
“You killed him! You had no right!” Suriel bashed his fist into Rio’s face and tore the device from his grasp.
“You’re welcome!” Rio roared as he staggered back from the blow. “That implant is our only way out of here!”
“That wasn’t your decision to make!” Suriel yelled back.
“Not my decision!?” Rio raged, storming up to Suriel. He spat a mouthful of blood next to Suriel’s feet and glared fiercely into his eyes. “You wanna talk about choice, rich boy? Well, let me ask you somethin’. Did those poor folks have a choice when that piece of garbage tore out their insides? Did they have a choice when he stuffed them with tech and sold ‘em away to the highest bidder so he could enhance his filthy brain with these fancy implants!?”
Suriel opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words.
“That’s right, you high and mighty prince. That implant you’re holdin’ over there, it was paid for in blood. So don’t you lecture me about justice, or what’s right. Down in the Dinges, there’s no such thing as justice. This here’s just about the closest we get.”
Suriel looked to Kiara for help, but she was at a loss, her eyes wide in shock.
“Your Highness,” Pete said, walking up to him. “Either you give me that implant now, or we all die in here.”
Suriel glanced one more time into Keith’s lifeless body, then handed the bloody implant to Pete. Pete walked back over to the spot on the floor, then reopened the hatch on his encoder and began draining the energy from the implant into his device. Kiara and Suriel looked to one another, unsure of what to say or do. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Rio muttered, walking over to Pete as the encoder began to work again.
Kiara moved closer to Suriel.
“I can’t believe he just did that,” she whispered, shaken. “He killed him.”
“Do you think it was the right thing to do?” Suriel asked, troubled.
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Kiara answered, “Or who to trust. But I’m not sure that killing is ever the right thing to do.”
“How do we know he won’t do the same to us when he needs something?” Suriel whispered. “We can’t trust him.”
“No,” Kiara agreed. “We can’t. But at least we know what his power is now. He’s a Charger.”
Rio glanced awkwardly up at the two of them, then turned quickly back to Pete.
“They’re talkin’ ‘bout me, Pete,” Rio said quietly. “They won’t trust me anymore. Not after this.”
“Quite frankly, sir, I don’t blame ‘em. That was extreme. I was wonderin’—couldn’t you have just opened the door with your powers?”
“I tried. That thing’s no ordinary metal, it wouldn’t budge. Either way, I had to do it, Pete, I had to.”
“We needed the energy, true, but we could’ve-”
“He knew, Pete,” Rio said, cutting him off. “He would’ve ruined everything. I couldn’t risk that. Not when we’re so close.”
Pete paused for a moment to look at him, then nodded understandingly.
“Alright, here we go,” Pete said, typing in a few last digits into the code. When he finished, a faint clanking sound resonated from beneath the floor. Everyone turned towards the iron door as it opened slowly with a rusty, metallic screech.
“That’s my boy,” Rio said, patting Pete on the back. “Let’s move.”
They quickly stood up and walked past Suriel and Kiara, exiting the room. Kiara stole one last shuddering glance at Keith’s body, then followed suit, clinging closely to Suriel.
Chapter Seven
A Deal with the Devil
6 days before planet’s destruction
Tap, tap, tap. The sounds reverberated throughout the circular throneroom, bouncing between the colossal marble pillars which lined its periphery. They followed the subtle streaks of bluestone flowing through the white pillars up to the ceiling, where they echoed downwards in unison. They struck with precise, clock-like rhythm as Alaros tapped his foot anxiously against the stone floor. He sat upon a shimmering, crystal throne, staring unwaveringly at the heavy, silver doors across from him.
Tap, tap, tap.
&
nbsp; The King rubbed his dry, bloodshot eyes, wiping a tear on his sleeve. Bright, orange light poured in from the glass-domed ceiling, sparkling throughout the white walls and floors, giving the room a glistening glow. The crystal throne shone brilliantly, absorbing the light and casting an intense, dazzling array of colors upon the surrounding pillars.
With one final strike of Alaros’s boot against the stone, the doors swung open, and the sounds dissipated. The room fell eerily silent and still, and the air chilled and thickened. A tremendous, dark shadow stretched across the room, submerging all the light beneath a layer of shade. Standing in the doorway, at the apex of the shadow, was an angel. It held the pale, bare figure of a towering man, his torso super-humanly thick with defined musculature. His hair was black as night and flowed down his back like a cloak, masking the ground behind him in a sheet of darkness. The angel’s entire body emitted a dark, ethereal glow, and a pair of monstrous, black-feathered wings extended from behind the creature’s shoulder-blades, reaching all the way to the King’s throne.
“G-greetings, Mikael,” Alaros managed to stutter, his voice shaking in trepidation.
“You have failed me,” The angel replied, his deep, powerful voice reverberating throughout the room. He stared expressionlessly at Alaros, his wide, black eyes void of emotion.
“I did what you asked,” The King pleaded in self-defense. “I retrieved the first half of the amulet, and I discovered the location of the second half.”
“I ordered you to bring the artifact to me. Instead, you gave it to your son.”
“You said I was retrieving it for him!” Alaros argued, tugging nervously at his bushy, brown beard. “Now, you took him away, to heaven knows where.”
“He was not ready,” Mikael answered calmly. “But do not worry, my brothers left him in the good company of a woman. They say nothing corrupts a man’s heart faster than love.”
The King’s chubby cheeks flushed, and his brow began to sweat. He stood up from his throne, his short stature rendering him minuscule in comparison to the celestial being.
“We have a deal, Mikael,” Alaros said, growing bolder. “I have done each and every dastardly deed you asked of me! You cannot take my son away!”
“Do not endow yourself with a false sense of importance. I gave you this kingdom. I made you your son. A mortal shall not dictate what I can or cannot do.”
“But-”
“KNOW YOUR PLACE!” The angel’s voice boomed intensely across the room, causing the walls to shake and striking fear into Alaros’s heart. Alaros sat back down, staring frightfully into Mikael’s empty, black eyes.
“I shall recover the amulet myself,” Mikael said. “I no longer need to hide in the shadows. The redemption approaches, and it is time to make my presence known. As for your judgment, you will not be deposed. So long as you continue to supply me with Enlai for the feedings, you remain useful.”
“And my son?” Alaros whimpered.
“Suriel shall remain under my supervision. If you have given him the amulet, he must have already discovered his connection to it. The plan will proceed earlier than expected.”
Mikael retracted his vast, feathered wings to his shoulders, allowing some of the light back into the room. He turned around, walking back through the doorway. Alaros exhaled a sigh of relief, stretching his neck to relieve the tension.
“Alaros,” Mikael called out suddenly as he exited.
The King froze.
“Do not disobey me again.”
The silver doors slammed shut with extreme force, and a gust of wind whirled at the King’s face, blowing the bejeweled, crystal crown right off his head. As it clanged clumsily against the floor, the breeze settled, and the light returned to the room in all its intensity, causing Alaros to squint. His eyes began to burn again, sensitive as always to the brightness. The King sat for a moment, breathing deeply, processing what had just taken place. Then he stood up abruptly and marched down the marble steps of the throne’s pedestal to a circular platform at the center of the room. The platform stood out from the rest of the floor, adorned with intricate artistic shapes and patterns sculpted into the stone.
“Take me down,” he huffed.
The platform disconnected from the surrounding floor and began to descend from the throne room into a small, hidden square chamber below. The chamber was dark and dusty, lit only by a dim lantern which flickered from one of the brick walls. A human-sized tunnel was carved through another of the chamber’s walls, leading out into darkness. A hefty, metal chest rested against the opposite side, locked by a six-digit, coded touchpad.
Alaros rushed over to the chest and dialed the appropriate numbers onto the touchpad, and the chest unlocked with a click. He pulled out the first of its contents: a hand-drawn portrait of a smiling, young woman. He gazed into the woman’s eyes, brushing his finger against her cheek.
“Melina,” Alaros whispered, his voice tinged with sorrow. “My first and only love.”
“Your majesty,” A voice called out from behind, interrupting the King’s reminiscing. Startled, Alaros spun around towards the tunnel entrance. A tall, burly man stepped out from the darkness, dressed in the complete armored attire of the White Knights. A menacing, golden saberblade extended from a silver hilt in his hands, burning the dust around it. The infamous weapon, a laser-infused, razor-sharp sword, was feared throughout the kingdom, rumored to be deadly enough to slay even an angel.
“Are you here to assassinate me, Kain?” The King asked coolly, eyeing the blade.
“Just a precaution, Your Majesty,” the Knight replied from behind his mask, his voice calm, but rough. He flipped a switch with his thumb on the hilt of the weapon, deactivating the laser, and the blade ceased to shimmer. He returned it to a sheath on his belt.
“The situation is deteriorating, Kain,” the King said worriedly, shaking his head.
“I’m aware, Sire.”
“So you observed the meeting, then?”
“As you requested.”
“Mikael is getting dangerously out of hand. He has taken Suriel captive.”
“An understandable response to your decision of giving Suriel the amulet.”
“So you’re on his side now?” the King puffed, growing irritated.
“I am simply addressing the facts as they are,” Kain responded, unperturbed. “As an angel, Mikael is immune to emotion. His actions are driven by logic alone. Logically, he can no longer trust you to act in his best interests regarding your son.”
“He’s changing,” the King replied. “I’ve seen him display emotion. He’s becoming erratic.”
“Then why do you believe he took Suriel?”
“Kain,” the King said, calming himself. “I don’t care why he did it. I just want my son back.”
“Getting your son back would only postpone the inevitable,” Kain replied frankly. “Mikael wants to use Suriel for some greater purpose. He will stop at nothing to get him.”
“Then we must slay an angel,” Alaros growled, his hands clenching to fists.
“My thoughts precisely,” Kain said, his fingers wrapped eagerly around his blade.
“And I’m assuming you have a plan?” Alaros asked.
“Mikael expressed his intention to enter the public spotlight. That would provide us with an opportunity for an attack. I will take the White Riders to track him down. As for a weakness, I will continue to gather information about these amulets he seeks. If we can rescue Suriel and find the second amulet before Mikael does, perhaps we can use your son to destroy him.”
Alaros nodded. “Make it so.”
Kain bowed his head in acknowledgment. His eyes wandered over to the portrait in the King’s hands.
“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?” Kain said suddenly, his voice growing suddenly soft.
“Huh?” Alaros asked in confusion, still on the previous topic.
“My sister,” Kain said, motioning towards the portrait.
“Oh,” Alaros said, understand
ing. He let out a deep sigh. “Beautiful is an understatement.”
“She was lucky to have a husband who loved her so much.”
“Thank you, Kain. Melina may be gone, but her love continues to bind us together. You are more than my loyal knight. You are my family. Or what’s left of it, at least.” Alaros clasped his hand firmly upon Kain’s shoulder. Kain nodded warmly, and Alaros removed his hand.
“With your permission, Your Majesty, I shall take my leave now.”
“Permission granted, Kain,” Alaros stated formally. “We have an angel to kill.”
Kain bowed courteously, then disappeared back into the darkness of the tunnel.
Chapter Eight
The Palace of the Rai
6 days before planet’s destruction
“What is this place?” Kiara asked as she trudged carefully across the slippery, cold floor. Rain poured down from the caved-in, arched ceiling above, flooding the cracks between dislodged chunks of stone. The vast, dark passageway was built entirely from rugged blocks of black limestone. Ancient, chiseled arches stretched across the walls and ceiling every few feet, supported by towering pillars. A torch was situated on both sides of each arch, their flames mysteriously impervious to the downpour. The dim light of the torches reflected off the water below, giving it a glistening, haunting glow. Cracked, stained glass windows decorated the outer wall, depicting hundreds of planets, moons, and stars.
“Looks like it was built for giants,” Pete chimed in from in front of her, looking up at the high ceiling.
Kiara hopped from one stone slab to another, trying to avoid the water as much as possible. The air was frigid and smelled strongly of mildew, and the rain did not make it any more comfortable. Kiara hugged her own body to conserve warmth as she moved, hardly able to feel her frozen, bare feet. She glanced to her side at Suriel, who marched relentlessly through the rain, shirtless and soaked, with a fierce, determined look in his eyes. Something about the Prince—his defined, handsome face, his fiery gaze, his broad, muscular chest and abdomen, made it hard for Kiara to look away. Suriel caught her staring, and Kiara quickly turned her head, her cheeks flushed.
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