by Sean Davies
The short-haired woman from before stood frozen in panic at the ruined altar, covered from head to toe in stinking black stains, staring wide-eyed at the eleven bloated bodies piled on the floor before her.
Even at a distance Kavarne could see that they had been drowned in Gloom water, and he knew that they would soon be up on their feet acting like nothing had happened while secretly serving the most powerful and evil force in the vicinity unquestioningly.
On his way inside the foul-smelling building, Kavarne didn’t see the Gloom water outside running suspiciously off-course and seeping into the cracks of a nearby drain.
“Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here quick!” the Werewolf shouted to the woman.
“W-what?” she stuttered, coming to her senses. “Who are you? W-what’s happening here? How did they die?!”
Kavarne frowned. “You don’t remember? We’re the Highway One Hellions. You spoke to us a few minutes ago.”
The woman shook her head, sending tears sprinkling into the air. “No, no I didn’t. The last thing I remember was the thirteen of us holding the doors and praying for a miracle!”
“You mean the twelve of you?” Kavarne asked critically. He didn’t have time to play twenty questions, but he needed to know if he was talking to the real woman or the puppet.
“No, there were twelve of us and a guy from out of town—thirteen!” the woman screamed erratically.
Kavarne held his hands up. “Fine, fine, I believe you.” He was dead-certain that the man from out of town was Corriztis, and the poor unfortunate survivors had unintentionally locked themselves inside a building with a Demon. “Come on, let’s get out of here. But don’t even think about leaving my side ‘til you get tested,” he added, knowing she was already going to fail it.
“But… but… what about them?” the woman sobbed, pointing at her fellow townsfolk. “You can fix them now, right?”
“Sorry, lady. There’s a line when it comes to a cure,” Kavarne grumbled, “and they crossed it when they died. There’s nothing we can do for them. Now come on, we’re in the middle of a warzone right now!”
“Kavarne, Kavarne!” Lynette called from outside. “They’ve stopped!”
All around the town of Abilton, the ooze globules stopped moving and flattened, and the mutated Alternatives liquefied into puddles of dark oil littered with patches of fabric and stained padding.
Lynette, who had returned to her human form, stood naked amidst the thinning black gunk, and was soon re-joined by Jonathan and the ruggedly handsome Kaine, who was in an equal state of undress. Everyone looked around for a moment, waiting for the sludge to come alive again, but fortunately for the Highway One Hellions the strange, seemingly unending battle was finally over.
“Where are the other survivors?” Lynette called to her other half, not one bit fazed by her lack of clothing.
“Corriztis drowned them,” Kavarne replied gruffly. “He was right here—or at least part of him was. He’s the one who opened the chapel door and chatted to us,” he added before growling.
Everyone stared at the reeking blonde woman, but she was too distraught to notice.
“You’ve got to be shitting me!” Lynette said, stomping her feet aggressively.
“It looks like the people in the town hall got out before we arrived,” Kaine said, scratching his hairy yet muscular chest, trying to add some good news to the dire situation. “We should get the tests done, and get dressed sharpish—you know how prudish Justiciars can be. Jonny-boy certainly does, don’t ya, lad?” he joked, nudging Jonathan in the ribs.
Jonathan wheezed an acknowledgement and rolled his eyes.
Kavarne approached the two Mages. “Burn it to the ground,” he said, gesturing to the chapel, while dragging Corriztis’ temporary host away.
“Fire pretty,” the blonde woman said with a big smile, watching the building disappeared into a towering inferno, as the residual traces of Gloom water altered her mind.
They all headed outside of Abilton’s borders, standing well away from the others who either hadn’t entered or had fled from the ruined town, and gathered around their jeeps to test themselves for Gloom exposure.
The test bracelets were individually packed in securely sealed foil bags that changed from a metallic blue colour to an alarming shade of red when opened, to help prevent against faulty readings or potential sabotage. Every individual that had entered Abilton received one, and they quickly tore the packets open and fastened the white bracelets within around their wrists, knowing that their lives could very well depend on it.
The thick watch-like devices were an extremely sophisticated mix of enchantment and technology that was incredibly quick and easy to use. Once fastened, a small needle would take a sample of blood from its wearer and scan for any dangerous foreign elements, primarily those that originated from the Gloom.
Kavarne, already in the clear, was forced to administer the chapel survivor’s bracelet for her, as she was engrossed in singing a song about how her name was Kate and that it rhymed with mate, on an annoying continual loop.
As they’d already known, the woman named Kate was incredibly infected, and her white bracelet pulsed with a bright red light, beeping aggressively and constricting tightly around her wrist. The magic within the test bracelet froze the survivor solid, putting her into stasis until she could be cleansed at the Aldacium medical facility.
Lynette looked down at her own bracelet and waited for it to turn red, knowing that some of the mutagen had entered her system during the fighting; to her astonishment though, the bracelet flashed green, chimed happily, and unfastened itself from her wrist. It switched off all functions and fell to the floor as an unusable band of biodegradable material.
“How am I not infected?” Lynette gasped. She looked around and saw that out of everyone, only poor Kate had failed.
“It wasn’t Gloom water that messed up the town, or anything like it,” Jonathan replied. “I’ll study the sample as soon as I’m back in the Catacombs.”
“At least Sanctium will still fuck it good and proper,” Kaine said cheerfully.
“You said it, old man,” Kavarne agreed, as he carefully lifted Kate’s frozen form and carried her to a jeep.
A little while later, Lynette watched on as a Justiciar airship, hovering over Abilton in the distance, unleashed a Sanctium warhead towards the ruined town. The primary charge detonated, sprinkling a rain of bright liquid over the town along with a cloud of powdered aluminium. As the rain of Sanctium touched Corriztis’ Alt-mutating ooze, it flared with blinding intensity and began to scorch the foul substance out of existence. The warhead’s secondary charge activated, igniting the aluminium flecks and Sanctium particles in the air, and the corrupted town of Abilton disappeared in a humongous blue and orange fireball of both scientific and arcane origin.
Lynette swore, knowing that if the corruption demon wasn’t stopped soon then three more towns would share Abilton’s cruel fate.
✽ ✽ ✽
The rain on Central Isle hadn’t let up all day and Veronica Reynolds pulled up the hood of her crimson cloak to shield her long, raven-black hair from the miserable weather, as she exited her sleek red sports car and walked towards the Cathedral of the Twin Goddesses. The Vampire Bloodmage had chosen to park a short distance away so that she could tell if she was being followed or not.
The magnificent Cathedral had been built on Winston’s orders a month after the merger. It was an architectural masterpiece, combining aspects of Mydia’s middle-ages with the current high-tech style. It had extremely detailed stonework including blue and gold archways that contained small statues of crescent moons and open books, gargoyles (both real and fake) that sat on the cobalt-coloured roof tiles and beside the guttering, amazingly detailed stained glass windows depicting the twin Archmages and their brave disciples that had originally foiled the Omni’s evil plans, and two bell towers that reached out of the steeped roof and pointed towards the heavens. Winston had spared no
effort or expense in its construction; a great deal of gold and silverwork had been used to top and compliment the stonework, and on a good day or clear night the cathedral was outlined by a soft glow. On such a gloomy day as today though, the building’s extravagant metalwork was as dull as the sky above.
Veronica knew that Winston felt guilty for the casualties his scheming had inflicted on Central Isle during his rise to the top during the War for Reality, especially as he’d orchestrated a devastating attack on the Inquisition at Central Isle before the Archmage Omniosis had revealed himself, and the brilliant cathedral had been his way of showing that and trying to make amends, particularly to his old foe Alice. She and Winston had even planned on renewing their marital promises there, as the original ceremony had been conducted by Omniosis, but Winston had soon forgotten the idea once he’d propelled his way up the political ladder.
Even though the myth of the Twin Goddesses had been ravaged by the truths learnt by both sides during the recent conflict, the religious community had increased dramatically in the wake of the merger, swelling to levels not seen since before the human’s Great War. The fact that the twin Archmage rebels weren’t truly Goddesses didn’t matter to the faithful; they were happy to honour their memory, peaceful teachings of unity amongst all peoples, and selfless sacrifices. Not only had the twins banished themselves from the real dimension in their struggle to stop the Omni’s atrocities, they had also diminished themselves completely to empower Alice so that she could defeat Omniosis once and for all.
Confident that no one was watching her, Veronica wiped the tears from her pretty red eyes and quickly entered the Cathedral to the Twin Goddesses.
The interior of the building always took Veronica’s breath away, no matter how many times she visited. Enchanted flowers growing on trellises lined the walls, amidst banners of religious texts and songs, pewter basins containing radiant enchanted water, and statues of calm-faced priests and priestesses. Even the pews had been handcrafted by the best carpenters on Rura. Beyond that at the very far end of the main hall was a massive pipe organ, reaching up to the painted roof which depicted the rebel Archmages as bright stars amongst a hazy void, just as they had appeared far above the curdled purple clouds of the Gloom after their self-inflicted banishment.
However, the feature that really knocked Veronica off her feet every time were the giant white marble renditions of Elysiana and Anastrixia, the twin rebels in their true Archmage splendour, that stood either side of the lavishly adorned alter, holding diamond-encrusted silver crescent moons towards each other to form the symbol of the Church of the Twin Goddesses. Veronica was confident when it came to her looks, especially since she was rated as one of the sexiest women in the world by many fashion, glamour, and pornographic magazines (her personal favourites being Slutty Supernaturals and Arcane Ass Magazine), but even she felt plain in comparison to the two identical angelic beauties and imagined they must have broken the hearts of many an Archmage admirer back in their time.
Alice and Veronica often discussed their private business within the cathedral’s beautiful walls, as Alice knew most of the priests and priestesses from her upbringing on the isle, and Winston hadn’t set foot anywhere near it for almost a year
The Lord Imperator was flicking through a hymn book, wearing a plain grey vest top and a pair of black combat trousers, and sitting on one of the centre pews beside a damp green overcoat. Even without her power armour, Alice still retained her powerful stature; her strong, slightly overbearing demeanour always made her seem twice the size.
Despite the dire circumstances, Veronica made a mental note to jazz up Alice’s wardrobe at some point (whether the Lord Imperator liked it or not), as she took a seat on the smooth polished wood and shuffled closer to her friend. She also remembered how ravishing the Lord Imperator had looked in her silky white wedding dress at her marriage ceremony (which had been performed in this very same cathedral), and knew that Alice had the potential to be a stone-cold stunner if she wanted. The thought of forcing Alice into some skimpy attire made the Vampire Bloodmage smirk and helped to ease her nerves before the impending discussion of what they had both witnessed in the arena.
“What took you so long?” Alice whispered harshly.
“Nice to see you too, Ali. Some weather we’re having today—yes, you look lovely as well,” Veronica replied dryly.
Alice gave the Vampire an unamused glance and raised her eyebrow critically.
“I got caught up with Winston,” Veronica sighed, taking a hymn book for herself. “I didn’t want to make it look too suspicious. I did try to call you—”
“I’ve left everything behind with Stein, I didn’t want anything to derail this chat,” Alice interrupted. “How was Winston, after his performance?”
“Annoyingly average,” Veronica replied softly. “We chatted to some Book Wielders who had arrived back from Beachhead Two, after they’d stopped a disagreement between a Vampire Ironfang and Werewolf Shaman before they could cause any real damage. Winston seemed like his old self; all smiles, and absolutely no demi-god action.”
“Where is he now?” Alice asked.
“Off playing diplomat with the pretty pink princess,” Veronica answered. “Winston is very eager to get down that pillar,” she added, critically.
“It’s probably some new source of power he’s after,” Alice mused.
Veronica looked around at the magnificent building. “I thought he was done with all that, after everything we all went through. This whole building is like one big apology for the pain he caused, especially to you and your forces…”
The guilt Winston had harboured was plain for Alice to see in the early days of their partnership, and he had continually gone out of his way to make amends to the ex-Inquisitors and the entire world. The Lord Imperator had struggled to let bygones be bygones after the initial shock had subsided from defeating the Archmage Omniosis and seeing magic spread across the once mundane land, but Winston’s charitable nature and desire to help build a brighter future had warmed her heart. However, she could no longer imagine him feeling anything of the sort, at least not without a potential gain for himself; a powerful sign indicating that what she truly feared was not unfounded.
“One way or another, he’s gone back to his old ways,” Alice said after a thoughtful pause. She also couldn’t help but worry about her former Inquisitor General’s involvement with the spire on the other side of the planet. “I wonder what’s in it for Azalea. Perhaps she’s got her sights on more than just Tropica?”
“Oh, there’s nothing sinister going on with little miss bubble-gum,” Veronica assured Alice. “I know you two have that icy ex-Inquisitor history going on, but she’s only interested in it for the Fate side of things.”
“More visions. Great,” Alice groaned. Though she couldn’t deny that Fate existed in some shape or form from her own experiences, she still didn’t like it and preferred the idea of being in control of her own actions.
Veronica nodded. “The new Book Wielder is as significant as she is sexy, somehow. Even I saw it… before…” she stammered, remembering the incomprehensible figure that had ripped Connie from the strange sphere of light. She had assumed that it was Corriztis, but now a new terrifying theory blossomed in her mind, one she realised Alice was working on herself. She pervaded as much of the Lord Imperator’s mind as she could and confirmed her suspicion. “You think he’s Omniosis?!” she asked in a course whisper.
Alice shuffled closer to the Vampire and spoke as quietly as she could. “I don’t know what he is, or what he’s becoming, but it’s certainly not Winston. No Book Wielder can fight like that—I don’t think anyone can— and when his persona shifts…”
“Oh, Goddesses above,” Veronica sobbed in shock. “Maybe Corriztis got to him? What if he corrupted him to bring the Omni back?!”
Alice looked genuinely confused. “I was thinking more about the psychic suggestion Omniosis planted in his mind, back when he empowered Winston and
took even more control over his creepy blonde friend. Maybe some part of Omniosis attached itself or smudged with him.”
Veronica’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“He didn’t tell you?” the Lord Imperator frowned. “Oh my, maybe he never knew…” she said, trying to recall a time when he’d brought the incident up, but she realised they’d only ever come close to the subject once or twice before being interrupted.
“You’re difficult to read at the best of times, not to mention quite bland when your defences are down,” Veronica began angrily, “and Winston’s mind is impregnable. So, please, please just tell me what happened!” she begged, needing to know what had transpired with her husband.
“When I met the Goddesses, they told me that Omniosis knew Winston was too smart to be swayed with just the promise of power alone,” Alice explained quickly, for the sake of Veronica’s growing anxiety. “They said that Omniosis put a temporary suggestion in Winston’s subconscious so that he would trust him more, but it was so subtle that it wouldn’t corrupt Winston to the point where he was unable to fulfil his destiny; his power would’ve been diminished otherwise, and the Archmage wanted that power by his side, for his own nefarious purposes.”
“I can’t believe you never said anything,” Veronica gasped, completely distraught.
“I’m sorry, I really thought you both knew,” Alice said sadly. “The twins said that it would wear off quickly. I just didn’t think…”
“What do we do?” Veronica said as the gravity of the situation truly dawned on her. “What do we actually do from here? If there’s even a fraction of that tyrannical shit-head in my husband’s mind…” She thought back to her vision of universal, trans-dimensional conquest and shuddered.
“We need to confirm it first,” Alice said, forcing her mind into gear, “and there’s only one person I know who might be able to penetrate his natural defences.”
“Oh no… not Cherriesa,” Veronica groaned, before acknowledging the grim truth; Cherriesa was the only Bloodmage on Mydia with even a chance at seeing inside Winston’s potentially corrupted mind. “We’ll have to trade her something significant to get her on side, to work for us, and to keep it a secret.”