Mydia's End

by Sean Davies

  Remembering back, Winston had called Corriztis ‘a pathetic excuse for an Omni’, which Alice thought was a strange remark—the Omni were the tyrannical Archmage rulers that had dominated Mydia thousands of years ago before they were torn from the dimension, along with most of their fellow kind and the majority of Mydia’s now restored magic. The evil Archmage Omniosis that had bent Winston to his will (both by playing on his ambition and slipping a temporary psychic suggestion into Winston’s head to make him more trusting) was the amalgamated form of the Omni’s most powerful leader, Omniultrix, and his followers who had been fused into his form to retain their sanity and power under the diminishing effects of the Gloom. Alice wondered if Archmage Omniosis had told Winston about Corriztis before his devolution into a liquefied Demon.

  The private HCD messages from the Demon had begun a few weeks later, thanks to Theodore’s inside knowledge of the Justiciar organisation. At first they had been random strings of gibberish, but gradually became more articulate as though the Demon was teaching itself how to write again. Alice and her peoples’ first instinct had been to trace the source of the transmission and storm it, but Corriztis had been two steps ahead of them every time and always left a gruesome arrangement of deadly traps to greet its pursuers.

  “What now, Alice?” Chloe asked, looking down at the black and blue ooze.

  Alice considered taking a sample for her science team but decided that it was too risky. Thanks to the presence of Theodore Miller, the corruption Demon knew all about the Justiciar’s protocols and procedures, and loved using that insider knowledge to aid in its nefarious schemes. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the hybridised microscopic weapon was ‘programmed’ with a belated secondary purpose, so Alice pressed a button on the side of her thigh armour, opening a pocket-like compartment, and retrieved a can of purifier spray from beside her shrunken magical book. She sprayed the substance all over the remains of poor Nathan Philips and averted her eyes as the puddle was burnt away by intense blue and white light, leaving nothing but a faint golden shimmer that dissipated soon after.

  “We’re going to the beach,” Alice began. “To find that hidden portal,” she added before Chloe could make a wisecrack about taking a vacation.

  “For a second I thought you wanted to go there for fun,” Chloe joked anyway.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  As the Conclave of Nations came to a close, Winston thanked everyone for attending and gratefully acknowledged their hard work and cooperation. Everyone began filtering out of the amphitheatre, except for a select few individuals who remained seated; Winston’s unofficial ‘inner circle’. However, to the Primary Regulator’s annoyance, Edward Anderson stayed where he was.

  “You may leave, Manager Anderson,” Winston said coldly.

  The Manager scrunched his face up in anger. “But—”

  “I’m conducting a trial tomorrow morning,” Winston began with a cruel grin on his handsome face. “Do you want to be standing next to them when they receive judgement?”

  “Fine, fine, I’m going,” Edward conceded miserably.

  Veronica was still in a foul mood, but even she sniggered.

  “Speaker Johnson,” Winston called loudly towards the NDR delegation who were almost out of the arena. “Please remain present.”

  The other members of the New Desem Republic patted her on the back and shook her hand as Lana looked around in shock. Lana Johnson quickly composed herself, feeling honoured, and returned to take a seat on the podium level opposite Winston, where the other prestigious delegates were settling. Edward Anderson crossed her path and shot her a filthy look on his way out, but Lana just smiled at the horrid snake of a man that she considered a poor excuse of a politician.

  Primary Regulator Reynolds resettled his obsidian wreath as he waited for the Manager and a few other lingering groups to disappear into the main building, and when they were replaced with guards he stood up, stepping forward and leaning against the ledge of his box casually.

  “Lana, how’s the DVO looking in the regions outside of Neo-Industria?” Winston asked in a surprisingly unconcerned tone.

  “Not good,” she replied honestly. “At first, we put it all down to monster attacks on the pumps, but since the Highway One Hellions and Desem Patriot motorcycle gangs allied they’ve got them well covered. The reservoirs are drained dry, but the weird thing is…” She stopped herself suddenly.

  Winston opened his hand in a gesture for the woman to continue. “Please.”

  “It’s running out faster than it should be, we’re not pumping out that much,” Lana said, despite how mad it sounded. Deep Vein Oil had never shown any signs of running out before, let alone vanished completely, as the substance seemed to replenish itself. “It’s not being used up by us—it’s going somewhere else.”

  “I hear the levels are even lower than when Ricardo Stern photographed the caves and channels,” Queen Azalea commented.

  The illustrious Ricardo Stern was a daring celebrity of the new world. He was an Imperia City rich kid (in his thirties) who had taken the dimensional merger as his perfect opportunity to climb out of his parent’s shadow and make a name for himself. Armed with bags full of cash, Ricardo had enlisted the aid of a family-run bodyguard business to accompany him into the mysterious and deadly Archmage ruins that had sprung up above and beneath ground all over the planet. The self-taught adventurer and his bodyguards’ renown had steadily spread, as had their ranks, until the exploits of Ricardo Stern and the Swords of Fortune mercenary group were enjoyed by people all over Mydia. The Supernatural Archivist organisation, as well as the new governments, often enlisted them to explore, secure, and raid the ancient ruins in their territories for magical artefacts and treasure.

  Lana Johnson nodded. “You can go down there for miles and miles now, the natural tunnels lead to mechanical pipes that just seem to stretch on and on. It looks like the Deep Vein Oil is meant to be flowing up from them, but instead it’s going the other way.”

  “Whatever makes the substance might be broken,” Albert Tiberius suggested.

  “The planet could have a leak?” DVAM pondered, scratching his fabric chin with his mechanical fingers. “Dimensionally speaking. That it could!”

  “I bloody well hope not,” Veronica muttered, trying to place the moment when speaking of ancient underground machinery had become normal.

  “The merger went perfectly,” Winston assured everyone. “Everything went exactly where it should have been in the first place. It’s structurally sound.”

  “No Deep Vein Oil means no more Sanctium,” Cherriesa reminded everyone in her high-pitched, sweet Tropican accent that was often laced with poisonous intent.

  “And plasma,” General Stein added. “So no more energy weapons, Autons, airships—”

  “At this rate we’ll be lucky to have cars,” Lana interrupted.

  “Has there been any progress with the integration of Gloom-tech into our own?” Winston asked the Foreman.

  “Yes, so much, Winston!” the Foreman bellowed happily. “You should see the explosions!”

  Winston rubbed his temple and sighed. “I meant with powering our technology, not destroying it.”

  “Oh.” The image of the Foreman superstructure slumped into a bored pose. “No. Sorry. It works for a while… until it doesn’t.”

  “Our stuff is interesting at best,” DVAM mused, “indeed it is. When it’s crossed with your stuff, it becomes a lot more interesting, but a lot more unsafe. That it does!”

  “It might be the best we can hope for,” Lana said. “Maybe if it’s toned down. A lot.”

  “We’ll have trouble getting anything to work if the null-zones spread,” General Stein remarked.

  “On Tropica, the DVO shortage seems tied to the null-zones,” Azalea began. “The patches are only appearing in the most depleted areas. We’re keeping a lid on it, but we’ve lost an entire village in the north near Calousha—I mean, Liberty Basin.”

  “We, too, have
had the same issue,” Silvario, the silver haired and silver-tongued Mage ruler of the Trinity began. “Whole sections of the known Catacombs are becoming unusable. Supernaturals lose all their powers, and humans grow weaker when they’re in the vicinity.”

  Two months after the merger, tiny patches of discoloured soil had been noticed by a Werewolf Shaman collecting samples of magical plant life in the dense jungles and rainforests surrounding Tropica City. A few weeks later, the Werewolf returned to find they had grown by an inch or so, and the pallid discolouration had spread to the grass and plants. Under closer inspection, the afflicted areas seemed as though they had been coated in ashes or turned to stone, and the Werewolf felt extremely fatigued after studying them for just a few minutes. He shared his findings with his colleagues around the world and found that he wasn’t the only one who had stumbled upon blighted patches of land. Word had spread to the Conclave who had investigated these ‘null-zones’ for themselves, and Winston had quickly taken control of the situation. He had also made sure that it was kept quiet from the majority of Mydia’s population.

  “I hate to say it,” Christopher Thorne hedged, “and I mean no offense, but could the Gloom exposure caused by the Alternatives be responsible for both? Their presence does change… things.”

  Both Winston and Veronica grimaced, knowing that Thorne was referring to what little he did know about his son’s fate, while the alternatives present (and the crackling hologram of the Foreman) stiffened in response to the allegation.

  Before an unpleasant argument could break out, Queen Azalea spoke up. “The location I mentioned earlier was an Alt village, so I don’t think there’s any correlation. When my people arrived, they found the Alternatives had become as drained, colourless, and lifeless as their nullified surroundings. They were apparently no different from statues, but when my forces moved them out of the village they sprang back to life.”

  “The Gloom creatures could not be responsible for the ground shaking, the surges of erratic magical energy, or the sightings of the dead,” Cherriesa added with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “We both saw my old master, Astrocrates, the other day,” Silvario said, still awestruck just from the memory of the experience. “He reiterated the importance of unifying the Vampires, Werewolves, and Mages of the world to defend against the fanatical human witch hunters.”

  “I thought it was a deception, so I tried attacking him,” Cherriesa said in her cute voice, “but he disappeared as though he was never there.”

  “I think we can all agree that whatever’s at work here goes deeper than our issues on the surface,” Albert said, before turning to Silvario and Cherriesa. “And Catacombs, of course.”

  Winston rubbed his chin and mumbled to himself before speaking up. “I think I can fix this. If I obtain more power, then I should be able to force the world to create more DVO and fix these niggling problems…”

  “There’s something else I need to bring up,” Azalea said as Winston trailed off. “We recently investigated the other side of the planet, following a vision I had, and found a massive pillar in the centre of the endless ocean. It appears to be of Archmage origin but features technology that looks older, like that of the Deep Vein Oil channels.”

  “I thought there wasn’t anything on that side of the planet except water,” General Stein remarked.

  Azalea gestured to one of her aides, who linked their HCD to the arena’s wireless network. A blue holographic image of Mydia filled the amphitheatre and Azalea gestured with her dainty hands, causing the sphere to turn onto the previously empty side of the small planet and zoom in considerably until all that was left was a cropped section of ocean. A flat-topped column was in the centre of the sea, standing solitary amongst the calm waves, and looked like an enlarged version of the marble pillars used in ancient Imperian architecture and the Conclave building.

  “There wasn’t until recently, but this structure rose out of the ocean floor,” Azalea explained. “It appears to be some sort of access shaft, but to what exactly we don’t know.”

  “Yes, yes… that’s it,” Winston muttered as Azalea applied some visual filters to the image.

  “It’s what?” Veronica asked, concerned.

  Winston looked startled for a moment. “What’s what?”

  “You said the pillar was ‘it’,” she replied quietly.

  “Did I?” Winston frowned before chuckling awkwardly. “Sorry, sweetie, I must have been day-dreaming. It doesn’t help that you’re dressed like that—you know that’s one of my favourite dresses,” he added cheekily.

  Veronica looked like she’d seen a ghost. “You like it? But you said you wanted me to dress like an adult?”

  “That doesn’t sound like me at all,” Winston laughed. “I’d be more than happy to see you walk around here naked if you wanted to, hun, but you know I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you for a second,” he said flirtatiously, adopting Veronica’s trademark wink.

  Veronica’s jaw dropped as Winston turned back to Azalea’s presentation. In an instant she had been reunited with the husband she knew, and Winston was right about his previous behaviour; it hadn’t sounded like him at all. She strained her telepathic powers in an attempt to penetrate Winston’s fortress-like mind, but all the Vampire Bloodmage gained was a sharp migraine and a wave of fatigue that left her hungry for blood. Luckily for Veronica, the lavish amphitheatre box hosted a drinks cabinet which included a refrigerated unit packed with freshly bottled blood.

  “Our long-range airships have made several visits now,” Azalea began, “and each time the magical energy in the area has significantly increased, especially underneath the ocean floor.”

  The visual zoomed out and Azalea’s aide put on a red overlay to highlight the areas that were heavily saturated with magic. Some of the hazy red light beneath the surface made out the rough shape of gargantuan gears and pipelines, while a pulsing aura radiated intermittently from the pillar structure out into the sky and above.

  “Look at all that machinery!” the Foreman gasped.

  “I wonder if that’s where the DVO is heading,” Lana pondered. “It’ll be a logistical nightmare, but we could set some sort of drilling operation up. We’d need some hefty protection from the sea monsters, though.”

  “We’ve got ya covered there!” the Foreman bellowed. “My ironclad boys and gals are aching for some action!”

  “I think we’re overlooking the main point here,” Albert Tiberius interjected.

  “I concur,” Silvario said, sweeping his majestic silver hair over his scrawny shoulders. “This column structure may be causing irreparable harm to our planet.”

  “Then we destroy it,” Cherriesa said sweetly.

  “I second the destruction!” the Foreman called.

  “I third that!” DVAM cheered. “I made an energy-launcher that still needs testing…”

  Azalea coughed politely to bring silence to the arena. “I don’t think it’s the pillar that’s the problem; I’ve seen something underneath it. Either way, it has defences—”

  “It needs a Book Wielder to gain access,” Winston interrupted.

  “Yes. How did you know?” Azalea asked, raising a pretty pink eyebrow.

  “Yeah, how did you know that, sweetie?” Veronica echoed, concerned for her husband’s mental state.

  “Don’t call me sweetie,” Winston hissed at his wife before turning to the delegates. “I have been studying Archmage legends recently, I must have seen it somewhere… oh, it’s a shame that Alexander has already left; he’d be able to clue you in better than I could. Queen Azalea, please continue.”

  Veronica flinched from the harsh tone. She was utterly heartbroken. The busty Vampire poured herself a tall glass of whiskey and seated herself well away from Winston.

  Azalea nodded and continued her tale. “I called in Ricardo Stern and the Swords of Fortune to investigate; however, there was a deadly incident when they were denied access. Some of them made it back, but dis
appeared before we could debrief them. Next thing we hear they’re doing another sweep of the DVO channels under Desem, then almost straight after we received word that they’d popped up in Tropica, some people said they had gone to Beachhead Two but no one in town recalls them.”

  “He’s buying their silence,” Winston chuckled. “No matter. We can pay more, or use other, more unpleasant ways to get the information we need.”

  “I’d prefer it if we avoid violence all together,” Azalea said sternly.

  “If it’s a matter of global security then I’m afraid we might not have a choice,” Winston said in a slightly patronising way.

  “Winston is correct,” Cherriesa agreed. “The feelings of a few plebeians cannot outweigh the safety of Mydia as a whole.”

  “It won’t come to that,” Veronica said, cutting the budding argument short before it could begin in earnest. “If everyone gets their people to keep an eye out for Ricardo and his mercs, and to call in any sighting immediately, then we’ll track him down in no time, without needing to break any fingers. He’s rich as fuck but he can’t bribe everybody,” she added, before draining her glass dry.

  “My wife is as intelligent as she is beautiful,” Winston said to the delegates, but there wasn’t a trace of affection in his voice. “Find Stern. I want to know what’s waiting for me at the top of that pillar,” he ordered the attendees.

  “Remember to report anything suspicious immediately,” General Stein began. “I’m unsure if Darkheart, his co-conspirators, and Corriztis are responsible for these strange events or not, but they certainly can’t be helping.”

  “I’m sure the Lord Imperator will pull through,” Winston began in an icy tone, but quickly became more reasonable. “Increase the bounty on their heads immensely. I’ll pay the difference. Now, thank you all for attending— let’s get down to work.”