Mydia's End

by Sean Davies

“Lord Imperator Alice Eve has Archmage blood, just like Emperor Winston,” Corriztis explained, digging into a piece of cherry pie. “Cruelty and oppression run through their very veins. It’s in their nature—”

  “And yours,” Daedrian interrupted meekly.

  The Demon’s sunken-eyed host looked both surprised and intrigued by the remark. “I’m the only one who can stop Mydia’s end, remember?” he replied in a firm but kind voice.

  Daedrian moved the cup to her lips using her powers, taking a sip of the warm tea and then lowering it. She thought about what Corriztis had told her and suddenly she couldn’t fault his reasoning, or understand why she’d ever doubted him in the first place.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Darkheart said, assured that she was making the right decisions. “Are we ready to go on the radio front?”

  “All set,” Corriztis said in a pleased tone.

  Daedrian’s teacup suddenly shattered under the weight of her sheer power; she had not intended to break the object, and she reflexively tried to fix it using her telekinesis. The tea remained hovering in thin air, as though it were still contained within an invisible glass, and the shattered pieces of the cup turned into a fine powder. She could feel every part of the broken object, down past the unseen molecules and atoms to the protons, electrons, and neutrons beyond. Daedrian’s senses pushed further, but a polite cough from Corriztis brought her into focus, and she saw that her tea was surrounded by a blaze of energy, wrought from the very building blocks of reality. Although the energy glowed like a star it offered no warmth, but her intuition told her that the subatomic particles could be manipulated in another way altogether to create a bomb that could rival its magical counterparts with ease, and the knowledge scared her to the core. Daedrian remembered what she had wanted in the first place, and a simple cup formed around her floating beverage a moment later.

  “I’m getting even stronger,” Darkheart said in amazement as she tried to turn her beverage into liquid gold, but she was unable to repeat the process. “Still need more practise, I guess,” she muttered to herself.

  Corriztis smiled slyly and scooped another spoonful of cherry pie into his host’s mouth. He could feel himself located in hosts all over the world, a sensation that grew more disturbing with every passing day as his mind repaired the eons of psychological damage wrought the Gloom’s corruption, and he knew that it wouldn’t be long until he would be limited to one solitary host. However, he was confident that he would have the best vessel available to him within a mere few days; the potential-brimming body of Alice Eve. Corriztis saw himself inside his ancient Tropican facility, in the body of Theodore Miller, and entered the successful results of his latest experiment on Daedrian into the database.

  Chapter 8

  Gloomingdale City

  Constance had never put much thought into where she would lose her virginity, but she would've never guessed in a thousand years that it would be in an airship toilet. It was cramped and far from comfortable, and Constance had stood with one leg rested on the sink for so long that it was sore, but as she ran a hand down the front of her skirt and clutched at Genevieve’s blue hair, she found she really didn't care. The extremely skilled, half-naked Vampire brought her to climax yet again, and Connie's whole body shuddered in satisfaction.

  “Oh my...” Constance gasped, trying to recover. “I think it's your turn.”

  “Uh-uh, nope. You’ve got at least one more in you,” Genevieve said in a playful tone as she forced Connie to stay in place. “Better make it a good one,” she added, cheekily licking her fingers.

  “Wait, no, it's too sensitive—hey! Get out of my butt!” Constance exclaimed meekly, but soon moaned joyfully as Genevieve reached up with her free hand and pushed two fingers inside of her vagina too.

  “Sorry, did you want me to stop?” Genie asked innocently. “Or do you like being pleasured in more than one area at the same time?”

  “You… are… you’re filthy...” Constance stammered.

  “I'm just warming up,” Genevieve grinned as she moved her head closer and began sucking on Connie's clitoris.

  “Fuck… me!” Constance squealed, far too loudly.

  The Book Wielder’s eyes rolled into the back of her head as Genevieve put her superhuman speed into practise, and Connie yanked down her own top and clutched at her small exposed breasts and pulled on her brown nipples with her trembling fingers. Within a few minutes, Constance felt like she'd been turned into a human water feature, and she screamed out in sheer ecstasy before Genie finally halted her relentlessly amazing work.

  “I thought so,” Genevieve said as she pinged off her wet bra and slid out of her underwear. “You’re a secret squirter,” she giggled.

  Constance slid onto the toilet lid and looked down at the mess she’d made in shock. “I am so sorry! I didn't know I could cum that much!”

  “I think it's pretty hot,” Genie replied flirtatiously, enjoying the Book Wielder's reaction.

  “We need to clean this place up,” Constance said, still embarrassed.

  “Don't think about it until after,” Genevieve said, standing up and stretching out her toned body seductively.

  “Hey! Are you alright in there?” a voice called from beyond the door. “Someone reported screaming. I'm a medic—”

  “We—I'm fine!” Constance shouted back in a fluster, as Genevieve covered her mouth to stifle her giggling.

  “Say you had a Desem chilli pepper curry for dinner last night,” Genie whispered unhelpfully.

  Constance gave her a scowl before calling back to the medic, “I just slipped on some water, but I'm totally fine now!”

  “Water? I thought that giant puddle was your sweet pussy juice…” Genevieve whispered, continuing to wind the Book Wielder up.

  “Constance, is that you in there?” the medic asked. “The Lord Imperator is looking for you and Jameson.”

  The Book Wielder frowned. “Okay, thanks. Give us—me—ten minutes to sort myself out and I'll be right there!”

  “Ten minutes? That's not very long at all,” Genevieve purred as she played with herself.

  “Sorry, looks like I'll have to return the favour some other time,” Connie sighed.

  “I don't know, I think it could be done,” Genie replied cheekily as she picked up her handbag.

  Constance chuckled. “We don't all have superhuman agility.”

  “You know that night Veronica tried to hook us up, and the room she'd hired was full of toys?” Genie began. “Well, I might have kept a few.” She showed Constance a long, sleek vibrator in each hand.

  Connie licked her lips slyly as she took the sex toys in one hand and kissed Genevieve passionately. She turned the Vampire around to face the bathroom’s mirror, and Genevieve leant on the sink and smirked into the reflection as she pushed her backside out.

  “Time for some payback,” Connie said seductively, as she stroked a finger slowly all the way down Genevieve's spine and between her buttocks.

  “Be gentle with me,” Genevieve joked in an innocent voice.

  “Not a fucking chance,” Constance replied cheekily, before wetting the vibrators with her mouth, twisting them on to their highest setting. “Your ass and pussy are mine, Genevieve Jameson,” Connie chuckled, as she slid them inside the gorgeous Vampire Nightclaw.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “I feel violated,” Genevieve complained jokingly a little while later.

  “You started it,” Connie replied with a coy smile as they approached the airship’s bridge.

  The young women had hastily left the bathroom after their passionate encounter, but their clothes were so dishevelled that they had been forced to sneak into the cargo hold and change into fresh outfits. Constance quickly slipped into a grey long-sleeved mini-dress, a pair of tights, and a cropped black jacket, while Genevieve put on a blue tartan miniskirt and a white short-sleeved shirt.

  Both Constance and Genevieve were dreading seeing the stern look on the Lord Imperator’s face;
they were running extremely late, although neither one of them regretted their use of time in the slightest.

  “I miss the old you,” Genie chuckled. “That pious preacher girl from way back when.”

  “That was only a few days ago,” Constance giggled. “And I blame you for my corruption. Besides, it’s not as if I'm like this for every Supernatural that comes along,” she added lovingly.

  Genevieve smiled, but didn't say anything. The Vampire Nightclaw knew what her heart was like and didn't want to lead the Book Wielder on.

  Constance picked up the vibe and changed the subject. “So, how angry will the Lord Imperator be with us on a scale of one to ten?”

  “About ten million out of ten, I reckon,” Genevieve smirked. “But it was worth every minute,” she added under her breath.

  Constance winked playfully and prepared herself for the wrath of Alice Eve.

  Inside the bridge, Alice stood behind the pilots looking out at the dark horizon. She put a hand inside her white trench coat and held out two vials of energy potion.

  “I forgot to give you these,” Alice began dryly. “They're energy potions from Jonathan, seeing as we haven't slept...” She trailed off, trying her best not to come across too disapproving of their behaviour, as her instincts had gotten the better of her in the Trinity's Alchemy lab.

  “Thanks, ma'am,” Constance said, surprised she wasn't in trouble.

  “Cheers, Ali,” Genevieve said gratefully.

  “Just be warned—they pack quite a punch,” Alice advised. “You might want to sip them.”

  Both Constance and Genevieve had already downed their energy potions and looked as though someone had struck them in the face with a frying pan.

  “Never mind,” Alice sighed. “We're coming up on Gloomingdale now, I thought we should go over things one more time.”

  “We head to the Dragon to see what he says about the state of the world—” Genevieve rattled off quickly.

  “While you track down Ricardo, get your intel, and then convince him and the Swords of Fortune to accompany us—” Constance added hyperactively.

  “And then you go and speak to the Mayor,” Genie concluded.

  Alice raised an eyebrow. “Right. We've heard that Ricardo's currently staying at the Stitches and Britches,” she said distastefully. “I'll call you when I find Ricardo and get what I need from him.”

  “Awesome, awesome, awesome,” Constance stammered excitedly.

  Genevieve giggled. “Lightweight.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Connie said, nudging the Vampire playfully.

  The Lord Imperator coughed deliberately to bring about quiet. “I was hoping to introduce you to your retinue before we arrived, but we'll save it for when we land. We wouldn't want to miss the view,” she said sarcastically under her breath.

  The sky ahead darkened drastically, and bolts of green and purple lightning crackled through the thick black, grey, and violet clouds that were permanently suspended above the Alternative’s city of Gloomingdale.

  Most of the Alt population that had lived in Gloom City, the dark reflection of Imperia City, had chosen to migrate south to the city of Galleon Anchorage following the merger of the two dimensions. A political agreement had been brokered between Prime Minister Albert Tiberius and the Mayor, and the majority of the human and Alternative residents in the two cities had effectively swapped places, as a safety measure to protect against the unpredictable effects of Gloom exposure. The Alt Mayor had renamed the city to Gloomingdale as soon as he was settled in.

  Tall, twisted structures rose from the horizon like the claws of a monster reaching for the curdled clouds above, and soon the smaller dark dwellings and numerous dockyards—along with the wickedly assorted wooden boats, over-armed ironclads, and massive floating dirigibles—came into view, as did the distant outline of old dragons and biplanes darting across the corrupted sky. The waters surrounding the port city were jet black and bubbled with unseen life beneath the surface.

  “I remember the days when I was so glad that the Gloom was confined to another dimension,” Genevieve reflected, sobered by the sight of Gloomingdale in its entirety.

  Constance’s first thought was of Stitches, and she pursed her lips. “You don’t feel that way now, do you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

  “Of course not. The Alternatives are just as messed up as the rest of us,” Genevieve chuckled cynically. “Although, they sounded a lot scarier in the days before Winston,” she added, wondering if poor Veronica was having any luck saving her husband.

  Connie breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and looked around the bridge excitedly. “Where is Stitches, anyway?”

  “Meeting the troopers that will be accompanying you on your mission,” Alice replied dryly. “Like you were meant to be.”

  Constance grimaced at Alice’s remark, but glanced over to see Genevieve pulling a face behind the Lord Imperator’s back. Both the Vampire Nightclaw and the Book Wielder burst into uncontrollable giggles.

  “I should have given you the potions after we landed,” Alice grumbled.

  Constance and Genevieve tried to control themselves, only letting the odd chuckle and snort escape, as the airship flew into the dark city.

  Nothing in Gloomingdale took any interest in their approach, and the airship landed in a large, rundown parking lot that was only occupied by a few rusted and burnt-out cars. The rear cargo ramp opened, and the troop truck rolled out on to the cracked asphalt. Constance and Genevieve gathered their things and headed outside to meet the others while Alice stayed back to don her power armour.

  The city around them was bleak, lit by flickering electrical lights and the sickly glow of witchlight and witchfire, and the whole place was reminiscent of what Book Wielder’s faced when they used to cross over into the Gloom. Along with the fabric, wood, and ceramic Alternatives, there were also Humans and Supernaturals dressed in a maddening assortment of gothic, steampunk, cyberpunk, and ultra-formal pre-Great War fashions, stalking the streets with thick black bags under their dark eyes. Copper-coloured Spidercars charged down the roads on their heavy legs, while beastly dark metal tracked trucks roared along spilling out thick clouds of smoke from their enormous exhausts.

  “Have you been here before?” Constance asked Genevieve, finally feeling the initial energy buzz of Jonathan’s potion abating.

  The Vampire Nightclaw nodded. “A couple of times on business. It takes a certain type of character to stick around longer than needed. Call me boring, but I prefer a night in my apartment with some good tunes and a PC game, or even at the fort with a decent book—with a party every now and then for good measure, of course.”

  “What type of games?” Connie was shocked that the cool blue-haired Vampire wasn’t partying every night.

  “Turn-based and real-time strategy, and role-playing games, mainly,” Genevieve replied. “I dabbled in first person shooters since the high-speed continental network was opened to everyone, but I get my ass handed to me so often I’d rather stick with single player,” she chuckled.

  “Shut up,” Constance said. “Turn-based are my favourite! Have you played the one where you get to manage your own civilisation? Queen Connie-Lee and Duke Stitches of Alternia dominate the world, every time,” she joked, holding the Vampire’s hand without thinking.

  “Pfft, the monarchy of Connie-Lee is no match for the Imperium of Genie-Jay,” Genevieve laughed.

  “There you are!” Stitches called merrily when he saw the two young women. “Where have you been?” he asked as he approached them on the long metal ramp.

  Genevieve let go of Constance’s hand and started playing with her hair.

  “Erm…” Connie hesitated as she sniffed at the questionably scented air, which made Wastewater Isle smell like a bouquet of roses in comparison.

  “I was showing Constance some moves with my Katana,” Genevieve lied.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Constance agreed nervously. It seemed mad that she and Gen
ie had just had sex, and the more she thought about it, the more the aftermath felt oddly unsettling; she didn’t know where she stood, or what she should do next

  “Oh, you should have called me,” Stitches said innocently. “I would’ve loved to join in.”

  “Maybe next time,” Genie chuckled.

  Constance elbowed the Vampire Nightclaw playfully, and decided not to overthink whatever they had together, especially in the face of her potential destiny.

  Stitches gave them a disapproving look as he finally caught on, but he chose to move past it. “Our guards are loading up the truck, by the way. Let me introduce you.”

  The smartly-dressed Alternative took them to the rear of the black and white heavily-armoured truck, where five individuals were shifting supplies and munitions into the spacious transport. Three of them were in black power armour, the white war-hammer emblem of the Justiciars marked on their large shoulder pads, while the other two were in white power armour marked with Azalea’s pink five-petalled flower on their shoulders, the seams of their armour plates decorated with raised sections of artistically crafted flowers and thorns.

  “They don’t get on,” Stitches whispered before they got too close.

  “Ex-Inquisitors who joined Azalea, and ex-Inquisitors who stuck with Ali?” Genevieve guessed.

  Stitches nodded. “They bicker quite a bit. The Sergeant stays out of it—he reminds me of the Lord Imperator, except without the awesome Book Wielder skills,” he added quietly.

  “Hi, everyone,” Constance said with a friendly wave. “I’m Constance Lee, and this is my… friend, Genevieve Jameson.”

  “Howdy,” Genie said with a casual salute.

  The troopers stopped what they were doing to greet the Book Wielder they would be protecting as they delved into the unknown ruins. Chief amongst them was the Sergeant, easily recognised by the golden markings on his power armour. He had a neat buzzcut, a square jaw with a thick perfectly groomed moustache over his lip, and brown eyes that seemed permanently fixed in a serious look.

  “Hello. Your friend Stitches has told us all about you,” the Sergeant said with a formal salute. “I am Sergeant Matthias Winters. These two are Licinia Florens and Hector Webb, two fine troopers ready to do their duty.”