by Sean Davies
“Goodbye, Lord Imperator Alice Eve,” Daedrian said plainly, before closing the door on the gobsmacked leader of the Justiciars.
After a moment, Alice regained her composure enough to open the door, revealing only a standard restroom.
“Did you get her?” Chloe asked eagerly.
Alice shook her head, still rather dazed from seeing a window into another world. “No. But we won’t be seeing her again.”
“O-kay…” Chloe replied awkwardly, unused to seeing the Lord Imperator so unsure of herself.
The Gallant rumbled as a series of explosions sounded in the distance, and Alice snapped back into action-mode.
“Speak to me, Brooke,” Chloe said, putting her phone on loud speaker.
“Explosions from within the cargo containers, yellow and black smoke coming from the cracks—manned section all fine, no major damage to the Gallant,” Brooke relayed in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Nice sniping, by the way,” Chloe complimented quickly.
“Cheers, O’Kelly. Mikey-D says thanks too. Is Alice with you?” Brooke’s voice asked over the phone.
“I’m here. Good work, you two.”
“Thanks, Ali,” Brooke replied. “Did you get Darkheart?”
“It’s… complicated. I’ll explain later.” Alice was still processing the sheer amount of power hopping planets must have taken the girl.
The train rumbled again, and Brooke swore down the phone.
“Autons, Alice! A shit load of Autons are tearing out of the cargo sections,” Brooke said frantically, in-between loud gunshots. “They’re climbing along the train—they look really fucked up, Alice!”
“That will be Corriztis’ plan-B,” Alice snarled. “Move in closer and give us air support, I’m going up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brooke said before hanging up.
“I bet that’s what they nicked from the shipping yard!” Chloe realised angrily.
“Probably. I thought we’d found them all in the War for Reality…” Alice said, while piecing a plan together in her mind. “Chloe, call for back up and move down the train, get the passengers to head to the front sections—we need to keep them away from the renegade Autons.”
“But—” the redhead began.
“You’ve already disobeyed me once today,” Alice interrupted sternly. “Do it again and I’ll personally ensure you spend the next three months assisting the Justiciar’s admin department. Besides, your boots don’t magnetise.”
“Yes, ma’am, message received loud and clear,” Chloe assented quickly, before dialling into the emergency channel. The idea of her creative mind being stuck with a pile of administration work was enough to scare her into loyal obedience.
“Stay near the front of the train, your lives depend on it!” Alice shouted at the frightened passengers as she hurried back out to the inter-carriage gangway.
The Lord Imperator reached over to the carriage’s metal rung ladder and hauled herself up onto the top of the train. She found herself wishing that one of her gauntlets hadn’t been torn off with telekinesis, as she watched the scout airship littering the rear end of the Gallant with gunfire before lurching to the side to avoid a barrage of yellow energy from the robotic Autons.
Alice quickly tapped her heels together four times to activate their inbuilt magnets, and lurched along the top of the carriage as the strong smoky breeze pushed into her back and whipped her hair into her face.
“If only this was as easy as it is in the movies…” Alice grumbled to herself, as she equipped her pistol in her unarmoured hand and wielded her hammer in the other.
She could see the humanoid Autons marching relentlessly along the top of the train, while others crawled along the sides on all fours. They fired intermittently at the scout airship, but seemed purely focused on advancing forward, even as Brooke, Mikey-D, and the airship’s remote weapons picked at their ranks.
“They’re after me,” Alice realised with a groan, although she was relieved that they weren’t interested in the civilians.
The Lord Imperator doubled her awkward pace, and could just about make out what Corriztis’ latest chemical weapon had done to the armoured automatons.
The Autons were coated in an oily yellow substance that slithered in and out of their protected shells, repairing damage, and altering and enhancing their weapon systems.
Alice took some pot-shots at the marching robots, scoring a few lucky headshots but doing little to thin the mechanical herd, as the airship came around for another pass.
The sky above curdled, turning into a violent vortex as Brooke Sienna abandoned her rifle in favour of her Werewolf Shaman spells. Blinding bolts of lightning smashed down into the Autons, slowing their advance towards Alice, but they mainly focused on the broken containers where more robots were emerging.
✽ ✽ ✽
Mikey-D cheered. “Nice one on the lightning storm! Fucking epic!” He paused, eyeing Brooke speculatively. “So… are you and your husband close?”
“I’m going to pretend that was a joke,” Brooke replied dryly, as she focused on summoning more lightning.
“It was a joke,” Michael said defensively.
“Uh huh,” Brooke replied, unconvinced. “Now, please be quiet—this spell is knackering.”
Two additional explosions sounded, and more cargo containers were torn open from the inside.
“Fuck me sideways…” Mikey-D groaned as he performed a fresh set of headshots.
✽ ✽ ✽
Alice was psyching herself up for a headlong charge when a middle-aged businessman clambered up onto the train.
“You… ruined… my plan!” he panted, struggling to hold on.
“Just call off the Autons,” Alice said coldly. “You know you can’t win this.”
Corriztis’ host snarled angrily. “If you care about Mydia, then let me have your vessel!”
Alice unloaded her pistol over the cowering Demon host, felling five more Autons, before continuing. “Not a chance, Corriztis. We’ll find your hideout eventually, then its game over for you,” she said, feigning ignorance about the secret Tropican city.
“You’ll… argh…” the man groaned, as he struggled to stay on the top of the train. “Excuse me for one moment…”
The host vomited up a stream of foul black liquid and fell from the train before Alice could save him.
A fresh Demon mask gazed at Alice, before sliding out of the way of two Sanctium shells from the airship.
“You’re not going to get me with the same trick twice,” Corriztis gargled mockingly. “Soldiers—take down that blasted flying machine!”
As Alice went toe-to-toe with Corriztis’ fluid form, the full force of the small Auton army was turned against the scout airship, and not even Brooke’s lightning could deter their relentless energy blasts.
Despite being forced to fall back, Brooke cheered through Alice’s HCD. “Lynette and Kavarne are here!”
Alice dodged a tendril of black Gloom water and lashed out aimlessly with her hammer, knowing that the Demon would dodge it effortlessly, but it gave her a chance to glance down at the sides of train.
A fleet of motorcycles belonging to the Highway One Hellions and the Desem Patriots had formed on either side of the Gallant, and the bikers immediately joined the battle.
Mages flung lances, jets of ice, and balls of fire and lightning, as they steered their vehicles onehanded; Vampires swung out with their melee weapons and fired their guns with deadly efficiency; and the Werewolf Shamans aided the Mages, while the Swiftpaws and Brutebeasts carefully slowed their bikes, transforming and leaping onto the rear section of the Gallant. The human gang members blasted the mutated Autons with shotguns, rifles, and revolvers, while the few trucks in the convoy unleashed the full fury of the heavy weapons Winston had given them upon the cargo carriages, severing them from the rest of the train.
✽ ✽ ✽
“Brooke, is that you up there?” Lynette the Werewolf Swiftpaw asked through
the open emergency channel, riding alongside the train on her faithful Gloom motorcycle, Merv.
“It sure is—you’re a sight for sore eyes! Kavarne looks like he’s having fun,” Brooke replied happily, watching from the airship as the hulking Werewolf Brutebeast hacked through Autons with his battle-axe like a tornado made of dark fur and steel.
Lynette chuckled. “Please tell me you didn’t leave Alex behind? We could really use ‘The Artillery’ right now!”
“Nah, he’s back on CI, babysitting Cherriesa,” Brooke said guiltily as she picked off a few Autons encroaching on Alice’s position.
“Wow, that sucks ass. You owe him, like, a thousand blowjobs,” Lynette joked.
“I know, I know…”
“Right, I’m gonna help Ali,” Lynette said seriously. “Feel free to rain Sanctium on cunty Corriztis.”
“Roger that,” Brooke said, loading another precious Sanctium round in the rifle. “Mikey-D, get ready. Demon-boy’s about to get a nasty shock.”
Michael smirked as he reloaded his gun and readjusted his aim. “Two Demon kills in one day? That’s got to be some kind of record.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Alice stopped batting at Corriztis and pointed at the horizon. “The containers are stationary, more airships are inbound, and you are horribly outnumbered,” she sneered.
“I am taking you with me!” the Demon roared, quivering all over like jelly.
Just then, Lynette, in her furry four-legged Swiftpaw form, leapt over the train, slicing into the Demon with all of her razor-sharp claws before leaping back again for a second attack.
“That is so annoying!” Corriztis roared, just as two more Sanctium rounds engulfed his entire form in a shroud of flaming energy.
“So much for not being caught out twice,” Alice said, mostly for her own satisfaction as Corriztis was no longer in any state to hear her.
“All forces,” she announced into her handheld computing device. “This is Lord Imperator Alice Eve. Finish off any outstanding Autons, and make sure to douse the scraps in Sanctium. Get emergency response teams ready at the Beachhead One station to administer medical support and corruption tests. Oh, and let everyone know that Daedrian Darkheart is no longer a threat to Mydia,” she added cheerfully. ‘And Corriztis is next,’ Alice thought assuredly to herself, feeling as though the tide was finally turning in her favour.
✽ ✽ ✽
Alexander had managed to occupy the Mayor and his Needle Maiden fiancée Arria for most of the evening, but the overstuffed Alternative had eventually lost his patience and snuck off the second the Mage dropped his guard.
By the time Alex had ran back to Winston and Veronica’s quarters it was too late, and he could hear Cherriesa's voice yelling threats from all the way down the hall.
“For the last time, get out before I tear you limb from limb, you blustering idiot!” Cherriesa yelled.
Alexander pushed the door open and headed into the bedroom, where he found the Mayor darting around the bed in a panic.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no!” the Mayor cried, lifting Veronica's white arm up and letting it flop to the bed. “Mrs. Winston is afflicted too!”
“She is not ill, you fat fool. She is inside Winston's mind!” Cherriesa hissed.
“Your dark skin looks so sleek and shiny…” Arria mused evilly. “It would make a lovely souvenir.”
“Don't be silly, my dear dreadful delight,” the Mayor said mildly, poking Winston’s Archmage mask. “Charming Cherriesa is a Vampire. Her skin would turn to ash as soon as it leaked too much blood—that it would!”
“Alexander, rid me of these damned pests immediately!” the Vampire leader of the Trinity said in an acidic tone.
“Oh, my pretty poisonous Cherriesa,” the Mayor sighed lovingly. “If I wasn't a taken man, I'd sweep you off your fleshy feet, that I would…”
“Don't make me jealous, my beloved Mayor,” Arria pouted sadly. “You know how murderous I get when I'm sad.”
The Mayor pulled on the filthy collar of his stripy shirt and exhaled excitedly. “I'm coming over all flustered, all flustered indeed!”
“Alexander! Get them out—now!” Cherriesa screamed in a voice so sharp it hurt the Mage's ears.
“Erm... maybe we could go to the fancy restaurant and order every sweet dish they have in stock?” Alex suggested meekly, rubbing his sore ears.
“Too much work to do in here for that right now, Alan, too much work indeed!” the Mayor replied as he plucked the mask off Winston's face. “This is an insult to my precious Winston, that it is!” he said angrily, incinerating the Archmage mask in a flash of witchfire.
“It will only come back, numb-skull,” Cherriesa tutted.
“Not this time, Cherriesa, my barbaric bundle of barbed wire,” the Mayor said, flashing her his sparkling golden teeth before studying Veronica and Winston again. “They're in big trouble, big trouble indeed!”
“You don't say?” the Tropican Vampire asked sarcastically.
“Yes, they really are!” the Mayor nodded dumbly. “Is this red vortex thingamabob between their heads your doing, Cherry-pie?”
“It is the link that is keeping Veronica’s consciousness inside of the construct within Winston's mind, which is incredibly hard to maintain when I am being interrupted all the damned time!” Cherriesa snarled.
“Hmm... interesting, interesting indeed,” the Mayor pondered, scratching the side of his head.
“The mask hasn't reappeared, how fascinating,” Alexander mused, stroking his chin.
“Yes, it’s all very interesting—now shut the hell up!” Cherriesa snapped at them both.
“Do you have a plan, my large lardy love?” Arria asked, stroking the Mayor's arm.
The Alt Mayor suddenly stiffened all over and raised his finger in the air in a moment of elated inspiration. “I've got it! That I do!” he cheered, lowering his plump finger down towards Cherriesa's twirling wisps of blood magic.
“No, don't!” Cherriesa screamed.
The Vampire and Alexander rushed to stop the Alternative from interfering but they weren't quick enough, and the Mayor's fabric finger intercepted Cherriesa’s ongoing spell, turning the red magic a sickly shade of bright green for a few seconds before returning to its original colour.
“There, all done,” the Mayor cheered chirpily.
“What did you do?! What did you do?!” Cherriesa screamed shrilly, completely enraged.
“Why, I sent Winston and Mrs. Winston some backup, of course,” the Mayor said merrily. “The best backup they could ever hope for, the best backup indeed!”
“Oh, my hero hubby-buns-to-be,” Arria sighed seductively, before snogging the Mayor loudly.
“I am going to be sick,” Cherriesa gagged, before fixing her angry red eyes on Alexander. “I demand a bigger reward for this lunacy!”
Alexander sighed and pulled up a chair. “It's going to be a long evening...”
✽ ✽ ✽
Winston paced angrily within his endless dark prison inside the Dreamscape, cursing the Archmage Omniosis with every combination of swear words he could think of.
After recovering from the effects of the giant robot’s nauseating crowd-control missiles, Winston had awoken in a bleak void with only a floating piece of parchment and quill to break up the endless vista of nothingness.
He had inspected the floating paper and found that it was a simple contract, stating that he, Winston Reynolds, agreed wholeheartedly to relinquish control of his ‘vessel’, and featured a long straight line for him to sign his life away on. Winston had ripped it to shreds, only to be presented with another, and then another, and so on, until the act of destroying the document had become a somewhat gratifying experience compared to doing absolutely nothing; of course, after that, they had stopped reappearing.
Winston had wandered about, running for what felt like miles and feeling no fatigue what so ever, and had now been sat cross-legged on the floor (which didn't even look like it was there) f
or what seemed like years. He suspected that his perception of time had been altered, but he couldn't tell for certain.
“Let's try this,” Winston said to himself as he tried to manifest a bouncy ball in the palm of his hand, even though every effort he'd made to create objects within the void had failed so far.
To his merriment, a blue ball popped into existence. When he tried bouncing it on the floor, however, the ball just kept on falling until he could no longer see it.
“Dick move, Archmage, real dick move,” Winston said, giving the finger to the space around him.
A terrible rumbling spread through the dark space, knocking Winston to his feet, but the Book Wielder was just grateful that something was happening to break up the unbearable monotony of his confinement. The quake continued, and when no visible change in the void occurred, Winston looked down to where his ball had fallen and wondered if he had triggered the shaking somehow.
A monstrous sigh echoed through the bleak prison, followed by an ear-splitting roar which had Winston covering his ears desperately. The tremors increased in intensity, and the sky of the black space started to glow orange.
Suddenly, Winston found himself lying on the floor of a dull metal cell stained with dried blood, with violently flickering lights set behind barred panels in the walls. The whole room was vibrating rapidly, and the ceiling was glowing orange and white, radiating a painful amount of heat.
Before Winston could shield himself from the scorching roof, it was blown away by a tremendously powerful gale of witchfire, momentarily revealing the smoky skies of the dreamscape above and the burnt-out carcasses of Imperia City’s tall buildings surrounding the Inquisition detention centre, before another tide of sickly green fire washed over Winston’s roofless cell.
The Book Wielder dropped to the floor as more of his prison was blown away. He covered his ears as a slow, happy laugh bellowed and boomed through the dreamscape, followed by the catastrophic din of crashing concrete repeated dozens of times over.
Winston felt hands tugging at his arm and opened his eyes to find Veronica crouching over him and shouting, but he couldn’t hear a word she was saying over the chaos.