by Tao Wong
Seconds. Everything has happened in seconds.
Dimension Locked!
Reality has been stabilized in the immediate area. You may not enter another dimension or pass through space while this status is in effect.
Note: Dimension Lock may be breached using a Master Level (4) Skill
I get thrown into the air, where additional rockets home in on me. I throw up another Soul Shield, my hoverboots engaging as I literally find myself jumping through the air and cutting apart one rocket. I dodge one only to be struck by another. Explosions ripple from the one that hit and the one I dodged, throwing me around. More rockets fill the air, along with high-powered beam rifles. I’m still falling, but my entire body is buffeted by shrapnel and continuous explosions. I cut and twist, doing my best to dodge even as I fall.
“Unlocked. Go!”
My lips pull back as I engage Blink Step, reappearing out of the blast zone and higher in the air. I spin, engaging my hoverboots as I kick off again. Seconds later, the same dimension lock status appears as beams of fire point at me, but I’m right next to one of my attackers now.
A spider-human hybrid, an Uttu, is standing next to a field artillery beam weapon on the edge of a skyrise, the weapon pointed down towards where I was. As I drop, I can see the muzzle of the weapon swing up as the artillery piece tries to retarget me. The Uttu itself is covered in a silver-and-grey armored jacket, protecting its body and fractal eyes while a portable force shield covers portions of the weapon itself. None of that matters.
A Blade Strike shatters the barrel, and a portion impacts the force shield, which quivers. I throw myself aside as the hover boots whine, their engines badly damaged from the numerous explosions. But they hold for now, allowing me to dodge an incoming beam attack. Another Blade Strike shatters the shield. Then the remaining beam attacks find me.
My skin bubbles, armor melts, and cuts cauterize under the attack. Even as I struggle to get away, I’m caught in another explosion as an arrow I never saw slams into me, wrapping me in green flame and acid. As I fall, my hoverboots finally give way, dropping me faster toward the ground. My throwing knives flash outward, catching the Uttu even as the assassin leans out to continue its attacks.
Down, down I go, spinning and twisting as I streamline my body in an attempt to get away from the incoming rockets and the area lock. My mind splits, one portion tracking the attacks, the other fast-casting the Improved Flight spell, though I hate to waste Mana right now.
“Shit. They locked the area right below you too, boy-o.”
My eyes widen. My health is already down to half of what it should be. Even layering on Soul Shield does little to slow the accumulation of damage as more attacks land on my falling form. My armor is shredded, my body wrapped in caustic acid. Harden does nothing because my defenses are crumbling nearly as fast as I get them up. They have me cornered, and I’m falling too fast to deploy things like smoke.
I finally catch a good glimpse of what’s attacking me from above. A floating gunship, one that uses mundane rotors, anti-gravity skids, and magic to keep it aloft. Beneath its stubby wings are rocket tubes spitting out more firepower than should physically be possible. And in its front are individually tracking beam weapons. There’s no convenient window to show me my attackers, but my minimap tells me there are three within.
I use the sudden increase of thrust as my spell kicks in to send my body toward a hole in a nearby high rise. Another explosion from behind shatters my Soul Shield again, sending me through the hole faster than expected. My hand grips and grabs at floor as I skip along, a sword conjured and plunged into the floor to slow me down. As I skip along, I flex my Elemental Affinity to loosen the bonds of the flooring, allowing me to crash through the floor on my next skip and the one after that. That puts some distance and visual impediments between my attackers and me.
I finally come to a halt next to a reinforced wall, my health down to a fifth, even with my regeneration. I push myself up, groaning slightly as the weapon shop’s interior vault creaks alarmingly. With an exertion of will, my spells are released, allowing my Mana to begin its slow regeneration. Another exertion of Mana and I layer another Soul Shield before I cast my other buffs and scramble for a health potion.
“You guys might want to clear out,” Ali says, making himself visible as he darts in. “You don’t want to get caught in this.”
The employees don’t need another warning. They rush out as fast as they can.
A second later, the roar of engines grows louder. Explosions and beam weaponry chew their way through the building, forcing me to run again.
“Are they insane?” I snarl, wondering how many people have died by now. How much destruction have they caused just trying to get to me? I can’t help but wonder where Irvina security is. Or who was paid off to stay away. “Ali, can you take out the ship?”
“No chance,” Ali says as he floats beside me. “The Machine Meld piloting the gunship is soaking up any damage it’s receiving. And the Master Class who’s sitting shotgun will tear me a new one the moment I start attacking.”
A beam punches through the air ahead of us, cutting across the corridor and burning to death a non-Combatant who hides behind a wall. I snarl, throwing a series of cuts into the floor, and drop through the newly created hole, putting more walls between the attackers and me. “Damn it. Security?”
“On their way. Six minutes for anything effective.”
Effective is the right word. As I run, I scan the information dump Ali is feeding me of what’s happening outside. Automated defenses, robots, and other sentinels have already started their attacks on the ship. But it’s too well-armored, too well-defended for automatic defenses meant to suppress Basic Class troublemakers to hinder it. For that matter…
“Can you channel Beacon?” I say as I stop cutting and head deeper into the building.
I’m safe, for now at least, as I put more masonry between my attackers and me. I pant, eyeing the minimap, and grimace. Too many dots, most of which are color-coded grey for unknowns. Trouble could come from any direction now, and I’m not sure which way to run, even if the dimension lock is gone.
“Possible. But you’d be stuck with the collateral damage from fighting back,” Ali says. “There’s… a lot of people.”
“Yeah,” I exhale, slowing my run and slamming down a healing potion. I watch as flesh and skin knit together, wounds slowly closing as my body fixes some of the damage.
I hate running. But backing off now is the best idea. I form a Portal, picking a location far away, and figure I’ll pay the fine later for Portaling in the city.
“And there they go,” Ali says, interrupting me.
I blink, staring at the information as the red dots pull back. The Uttu disappears from the map entirely while the three in the gunship burn oxygen and run for it, fast disappearing from my minimap.
“That’s it?” I mutter, staggering to a halt.
But it makes sense. They could cut through the building again, but I could easily run. Each angle change forces them to blow up even more areas. And with security on their way, they don’t have the time. They must have banked on finishing me off quickly and didn’t realize my defenses were sufficient to hold them off this long.
Or this could have been a warning. An elaborate and destructive warning.
“Think we should go somewhere else?” I say, cocking my head at Ali, who keeps floating in circles above me, looking uncommonly serious.
“Go where?” Ali says with a snort. “You’re the victim, not the perpetrator. Nor did you try to hide your identity.”
“Yeah…” I say, calling back up the notification when I viewed the Uttu.
??? ????, ???? ???? (???? Level ???)
HP: ????
MP: ????
Conditions: Masked, ????, ????
It did tell me a few things. For one, either it or someone in its party was at the Master Class Level to be able to hide their Status from me. Eye of Insight might not s
eem that powerful on first look, but its ability to cut through stealth-based Skills of a lower rank means that surprise attacks are much harder to pull off. So I’m facing at least two Master Classers—one who can lock down space and another who can hide their abilities. Potentially one, but I’d be surprised if that’s the case.
“That Machine Meld guy, how’d you know?” I say, realizing something.
“They forgot to shield the vehicle itself,” Ali says. “And I know the ability the Master Class was using. It’s a Mastery Skill.”
“Right,” I say, rubbing my face. “The Uttu?”
“No idea. It was hitting you with empowered attacks, but I didn’t get a chance to dig into the details.”
“John?” Katherine’s voice cuts in, resounding in my ear.
It’s an emergency line that patches her directly into my helmet, making my eyes widen. Shit. Did they attack her? “Trouble?”
“Yes”—my hand rises, a Portal forming even as I ping the map for her location—“but it’s over now.”
I drop my hand, my chest relaxing.
“They left a warning at the front doors of the embassy,” she says. “And killed Kylie and Meo.”
“How?” I snarl, my hands clenching.
“They were attacked on their day off. I’ve recalled everyone and rescinded leave for now. Are you all right?’
“We’re fine. Harry triggered his Skill and disappeared once we broke apart, so they never went after him,” I say, recalling the party notification I had ignored while fighting for my life. “Mikito’s out of contact, but she’s in a dungeon with others from Tig. She should be fine.” I doubt they’d drag in the guild with attacks like this. “I hope.”
“Stay safe, John.”
“I will.”
We cut the call as I hear the tramp of boots making their way toward me. Ali even nicely highlights the security forces in blue on my map. As they close in, I dismiss my sword and layer on a Soul Shield, getting ready to greet them.
Hours later, I’m finally free to leave the scene of the attack and make my way back to my residence. It amuses me somewhat that the investigators felt the need to play good cop, bad cop, even with the use of Skills and all the technology that showcased exactly what happened. I wonder if that’s just a way to extract more information. Or are there enough people lying and setting up fake attacks that it’s something they need to do? That’s a rather disturbing thought. In either case, I ended up spending a lot of time answering the same set of questions, all phrased a little differently. It’s only when I threatened to get up and leave that they finally let me go.
Harry finds me soon afterward, a flask in hand and a slightly glassy look in his eyes. Not too inebriated, but “tipsy” as his status condition says. That amuses me, as does the large and obvious security force that brings us home eventually.
When we’re secured in the flying car, I turn to the reporter. “You okay?”
“Just fine. Takes more than a few overenthusiastic buggers shooting me down to stop me. Not exactly the first time either,” Harry says. “Did I ever tell you about the time Daesh took a shot at the army ‘copter I was in? Took out the tail rotor. Bam! Lots of screaming then too. The pilot had to do an autorotative landing. Threw up so much that time.”
“And the drink?”
“Steadies my nerves,” Harry says, offering the flask to me.
“No thanks. I’ll wait until we’re back safe,” I say.
“Don’t trust the security?” His wave encompasses the multiple flanking vehicles and the security officer in the back with us.
“Don’t trust our attackers,” I say.
A downloaded memory presses into my mind, reminding me that a common advanced ambush tactic is to launch a second one after a failed first. Most untrained individuals would, like Harry, expect that the attack is over. The second ambush catches them by surprise, finishing the job. Of course, I wonder how untrained Harry is. Maybe he knows and doesn’t care.
Of course, under the System, the second ambush would need to happen a lot sooner. Otherwise, outside of the psychological blow and some minor drop in consumables, the effect of a second attack is mitigated. After all, in ten minutes, all the wounds and Mana would have regenerated fully. Which means another attack is unlikely. But, perhaps they could be counting on that.
“Coward!” Harry chugs down the drink again. “Wait till I put out a clip on them.”
“You have a lead?” I say, my eyebrow rising.
Unfortunately, I was too busy running to pay attention to any of their threads. Even the Uttu only left an impression of her connections, one that ensured I would never miss her again if I saw her. But it was insufficient for me to track her down.
“Lead, smlead,” Harry says. “I’m a reporter. Finding sources and investigating is what I do.”
The security guard with us snorts through its big, piggy nose but doesn’t say anything else.
Harry still catches it and stretches himself upward fully, fixing the alien with a serious gaze marred only by the slight green around his eyes. “Just you wait.”
“Of course. Of course. Not as if we don’t have hundreds of investigators of our own. Master Class ones,” the demihuman says.
I sigh, doing my best to ignore the byplay. “Fine. You go do that.” I lean back, half-closing my eyes. “Can you contact all the people who we’ve signed on? Tell them to be extra careful. And let’s look at moving up the timeline for shipping them off-planet.”
“What if they get hit en route?”
I’m unsure what to say. Insurance helps, but that’s no guarantee that the pirates won’t ignore the damn insurance and go ahead with physical attacks. Especially if they’re being paid more to attack than the insurance would pay out. “Find better armed transports.”
“Sure. I’ll just click my little red heels and wish them up.”
“Ali…” I send warningly.
The Spirit sniffs. “You’re always so uptight when you don’t get a chance to hit back.”
Ignoring the Spirit, I close my eyes, reaching out with my Skill to check on the threads that run from me. If someone wants to target me, let’s see if I can find them. And maybe make their day a little bit worse.
Chapter 13
An hour and change later, I’m standing in front of Katherine, having opened a Portal directly into her office. Between the exception granted by the ambassador into her offices and the one offered by the security forces, I’m now allowed to pop between locations with less hassle. While Portaling isn’t exactly banned, it is significantly discouraged via the requirements for a license. One that, until just recently, I had not been granted. Amazing what the destruction of a large swath of a neighborhood and just over a hundred civilian deaths can do to the wheels of bureaucracy.
Interestingly enough, Oria is here too, seated across from Katherine when I walk in. Hondo has his hands behind his back, glowering at me as I step through the shimmering black Portal. I don’t miss the way his hands twitch, sliding a pair of knives back into their sheaths once it’s clear I am who I am.
“Representative Oria. Perfect,” I say, offering her a half-smile. “I was hoping to speak with you.”
“And I, you,” Oria says, fixing me with a disapproving look. “How is it that a simple request has become the talk of the town?”
“Talent.”
“Do you think this is a laughing matter?” Oria says, eyes glowing. “Lives have been lost, property damaged, reputations sullied. All because you people could not do a simple task without complicating things.”
My lips curl up slightly as her words dig into my guilty conscience. “You wanted a Dungeon World. You have one. What’s the use of having a Dungeon World in the Edge’s corner if you aren’t going to use it to its full potential? We could easily take hundreds of thousands of people, grind them through all our monsters, and spit them back out to be productive members of society. But you’re too scared to take the steps, too scared of the Traditionali
sts, the corporations with a stake in the unfair institutions. Well, tough. Time to ride the tiger.”
“Ride the wha… ah. Right.” Oria’s eyes flash as information is injected or searched or something. Her cold eyes regard me as a finger slowly moves in a circle on the armrest. “It seems that Graxan’s warning that you’re a troublemaker and foolhardy actually understated the matter.”
Katherine looks between us before leaning forward, coughing gently to attract our attention. “Whether the actions taken were wise or not, rescinding them would be an admission of defeat. It’s not something my government is willing to do. Nor, I think, something that your Duchess or the other members of the Edge desire. We would be losing reputation with no gain.”
Oria looks at Katherine before she finally inclines her head slightly. “No. We would not want you to rescind your offer now.”
“Yes!” Ali crows.
“That does not mean we are happy with what you have done,” Oria says. “Still, we shall set that aside and discuss appropriate compensation later.”
I growl slightly, but Katherine shoots me a look that tells me to stay silent. I cross my arms and press my lips together. I’ll tell Oria where to shove it later.
“In the meantime, we need to deal with these attacks,” Oria says. “I understand you’ve seen a drop in your recruits since the incidents?”
“We have. There are scattered reports that Artisans are facing additional violence. Some have had their workshops and wares destroyed. Others have been fired. And of course, the companies have been purchasing debts, as they have promised,” Katherine says. “Couple that with the reduction in recruits from the Combat Classers after the most recent incident and we are down by around thirty-eight percent.”
“Not as bad as we feared then,” Oria says. “We have arranged for a few of our troop transports to arrive soon. Those transports will take all your recruits directly to Earth. In turn, Earth will pay a premium on their transportation to cover the dangers we expect to see in space.