Mydia's End

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Mydia's End Page 51

by Sean Davies

“Come on, Chloe, Alice probably doesn't have long!” Karamo said, urgently tracing the quickest route to the lab the Lord Imperator was being held in.

  “No... I think I've got a way to end this game of cat and mouse, once and for all,” the Book Wielder mused. “We've got to take a quick detour to this area first—”

  “Sorry, but I think Karamo is right. We should rescue the Lord Imperator first,” Singarus cut in.

  “And what happens when we bowl into that lab?” Chloe asked, rolling her eyes. “The same fucking thing we've done with Corriztis since he crept into poor old Theo: we fight, some of us die, he runs, and then we do it all again! I've got a way we can pin him down for good.”

  “I'm down with not dying,” the female trooper said, backing Chloe up.

  “Same here,” the bald Justiciar agreed. “We've lost enough people to that disgusting Demon already.”

  “And it's what the Lord Imperator would want,” the third Justiciar added.

  “What are you suggesting, then?” Karamo asked Chloe impatiently.

  “That's what I was trying to get ‘round to in the first fucking place...” the redhead Book Wielder muttered under her breath. “This looks like some sort of production facility. From what I can make out of the text, it channels chemicals and gases into the various machines and labs around the building, and probably the city above too.”

  “So...?” Singarus asked, not following her chain of thought in the slightest.

  Chloe grinned. “What if we can get the facility to replicate our Sanctium?”

  “He'd be trapped—down here, and up in the city too!” Karamo gasped.

  “But it doesn't bode well for us Supernaturals,” Singarus interjected.

  “Let's take a look. At the very least, it will give us a bargaining tool,” the Book Wielder replied.

  “Come on, let's move,” Karamo said, waving them out of the security room.

  Chloe’s work with the controls had definitely paid off, and the kill team managed to progress deep into the facility unhindered by the Demon's traps.

  They arrived at the production area, which was a combination of a factory with dormant conveyor belts and mechanical arms, and a chemical plant with hundreds of clear pipes; all of which were filled with black Gloom sludge, shooting out from dozens of ceramic, crystal, and metal vats, and up into the dark ceiling far above.

  “Don't touch anything, not even the weapons and ammo,” Karamo advised. “Who knows what devastating concoctions they're filled with.”

  “Here's a console,” Chloe said, spotting a similar panel to the one in the security section beside three glass silos of dark muck.

  The Book Wielder—her confidence with her basic Archmage language skills building—tapped away at the panel quickly, while the others in the team kept watch.

  “Do you think this is him?” Singarus asked, pointing at all the tubes and vats of black liquid. “Corriztis, I mean?”

  “If it is, Demon-boy is in for a nasty fucking shock,” Chloe chuckled. “Someone chuck me a Sanctium round or vial.”

  Karamo looked around at the ooze-filled pipes. “I don’t think this goop is Corriztis. He would’ve reacted to our presence by now.”

  One of the troopers removed their clip and pushed out a Sanctium-filled bullet, handing it to the Book Wielder.

  “Ta very much.” Chloe placed the round on a circular metal pad above the keys. “Right, the computer is analysing the Sanctium and attempting to replicate it,” she explained as the holographic monitors displayed a series of bars, charts, and lots of sprawling code.

  “Think we could use this to solve the DVO shortage?” the bald Justiciar asked.

  “Nah,” Chloe shook her head, indicating to some full bars of alarming red on the monitors. “From what I can gather, we’d probably end up burning more DVO trying to fuel the process than we could ever hope to make back. DVO is a key ingredient in Sanctium, and it’s absolutely slaying these systems to make.”

  The floating displays flared red, and big strings of text floated in the air as an alarm rumbled throughout the underground area.

  “Chloe…” Singarus sighed, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” the ginger Book Wielder cursed repeatedly. “It’s got to purge all these tanks first!”

  “Me and Singarus will go and buy the Lord Imperator some more time,” Karamo began. “You four stay here and get this working!” the Vampire Nightclaw shouted as he sped off, leaving the shadow Mage trailing behind.

  “Argh!” Chloe grunted, slamming her hands against various buttons in a futile attempt to hurry the process along. “You three had better pay close attention,” the Book Wielder said to the Justiciar troopers, as she managed to bring the lab’s internal cameras up on a separate display. “You’re going to have to man these controls in a minute or two.”

  The troopers looked between the panel of foreign keys, the floating displays of ancient gibberish, and one another, before groaning in trepidation.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Alice Eve didn’t know what had caused the alarms to sound, but when she saw the look of aggravation and bewilderment on Corriztis’ stolen face, she couldn’t help but grin. She was grateful for anything that would stop the Demon from putting the finishing touches on her syringe-lined cage.

  “How… who could’ve gotten in here and interfered with my stockpiles?!” the corruption Demon mumbled to himself. “Your Justiciar thugs don’t know how to read our superior language!”

  ‘Chloe can,’ Alice thought, immensely relieved that the wily Book Wielder had somehow managed to wriggle free of the Demon’s grasp.

  “This is your doing!” Corriztis accused. “What are you up to this time?!”

  Alice shrugged as much as her restraints would allow, and tried not to focus on the shifting shadows on the left-hand side of the lab.

  Corriztis growled and turned to tend to his infernal devices, but found himself dodging a rapid-fire blade storm from the Nightclaw Karamo. He quickly attempted to retaliate with a swarm of grey and red blood magic wisps, but the Vampire was too quick to be caught out.

  Spectral scythes formed around Alice and sliced through her restraints before disappearing, only to reappear beside Karamo to assist in harassing the slippery Demon.

  The Lord Imperator hopped onto her feet and tried to block as much of Corriztis’ magic as she could, while Singarus and Karamo chopped away in vain at his ever-shifting form.

  Corriztis began to laugh. “You know you can’t stop me,” he began, as one of Karamo’s blades passed through his face, causing Theodore Miller’s body to ripple like water. “After I’ve killed your friends and taken my leave, I’m going to discard poor old Theo and find a new host. Who knows—maybe I’ll even stop by the Highway One Hellions’ compound and take that Werewolf Brutebeast’s body…”

  “Not this time, dickhead,” Chloe panted as she entered the room, dragging Alice’s Spell-forged steel war hammer along the floor. “Hit it, guys!” she shouted at the ceiling.

  Glowing Sanctium coursed all throughout the hidden Tropican city, and a fine jet of it sprayed down from Corriztis’ main lab, narrowly missing Singarus. The shadow Mage yelped and leapt to the side, while Chloe swore at the ceiling, hoping the troopers manning the hacked controls would improve their aim.

  Corriztis made a mad dash for a worktop and held a rectangular white device to his forehead. “If I die, so does Theodore, and he wants to live—don’t you, dear host?” The Demon shuddered, and his voice changed considerably. “Alice?! Alice, don’t listen to him, just end this nightmare, please!” Corriztis trembled again, and scowled. “Well, whatever he says… you don’t want his death on your conscience along with all of the others, do you? Step aside—or better still, leave my facility and allow me to fix Mydia’s predicament before it’s too late.”

  A thin trickle of Sanctium began to run down the sides of the room, barring all escape.

  “Game over, Corriztis,” Alice said, taking h
er hammer from Chloe with a pleased nod. “There’s nowhere for you to run this time.”

  The Demon looked around desperately before throwing the device at Singarus’ face, liquefying himself and engaging in a series of desperate attacks and possession attempts.

  Alice used a series of invisible barriers to block the Demon’s every move, and then she raised her war hammer, ready to obliterate the Corriztis puddle and put Theodore out of his misery.

  Chloe O’Kelly closed her eyes and forced every ounce of her power into her hands, expelling it as a web of black star-studded space just as Theodore Miller’s body reformed from Corriztis’ mass of black sludge, trapping both the Demon and his host in a timeless prison.

  The Lord Imperator’s hit connected nevertheless, and the corrupted Vampire Bloodmage was thrown across the room, wrecking an Archmage terminal along with several devices and workstations in the process.

  “Ali! The plan?!” the red-head Book Wielder exclaimed, forcing her exhausted limbs to hobble over towards Theo.

  “Shit,” the Lord Imperator cursed. “I didn’t think—I just acted…”

  “Huh, he’s fine,” Karamo said, picking the frozen host off the floor. “He’s like a statue, and he doesn’t weigh anything at all.”

  Chloe tiredly poked Theodore’s face, which was stuck in a perpetually stunned expression, and nodded appreciatively at her own work. “We’d better get him—it—them, to the Aldacium medical facility ASAP. I’d like to say this spell holds indefinitely, but…”

  “I’ll call in the border forces and we’ll go now. Well, once I get some clothes on,” the Lord Imperator replied bluntly, trying to keep the elation out of her voice and remain professional despite the astounding success of the mission. “Karamo and Singarus: please ensure that every inch of this foul place is scoured from Mydia.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Karamo and Singarus replied proudly.

  “Don’t you think that’s a bit of a waste?” Chloe challenged. “There’s so much useful tech down here!”

  Alice shook her head. “We could be damning Mydia to another round of nightmarish infections. I can’t risk this place falling into the wrong hands, even our own—all it would take is one missed vial, one accident, or one biological weapon fired at the wrong time. Besides, I think we owe it to all the poor souls who perished here, even if it was in ancient history.”

  “I suppose so,” Chloe reluctantly agreed, carefully shouldering the weightless Theodore with no effort whatsoever. “Just don’t let Alexander find out. He’ll literally cry.”

  “I have to debrief him, unless Winston is up and about,” Alice replied, once again hoping that she wouldn’t return to find a second Demon host to deal with.

  “So, Darkheart and Corriztis are down,” Chloe grinned. “Maybe things will finally calm down a bit.”

  “From what Corriztis told me, we haven’t even begun to see the worst of it,” the Lord Imperator replied gravely. “The fate of Mydia may now hinge on Constance Lee and the others heading to the pillar.”

  “Oh, I forgot about stuck-up little-miss big bum,” Chloe scoffed. “I hope she’s not driving Genevieve up the wall.”

  Alice raised an eyebrow. “They seemed to be getting on quite well last I saw,” she replied tactfully.

  The ginger Book Wielder stuck her tongue out in disdain. “Ergh… right, come on, let’s go and burn Demon-boy out of Theo. We can deal with the rest of Mydia’s troubles later, preferably after a very long sleep.”

  “Thank you, Chloe,” Alice said earnestly, extending her hand outwards. “None of this would’ve been possible without your efforts.”

  Chloe shook Alice’s hand and smiled. “Always a pleasure, Alice Eve. Let’s hope Genie and Connie are as good at saving the world as we are.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Genevieve Jameson’s cheeky gambit had paid off, and by the time she and Constance Lee had made it to Gaelliard City on Rura's south-eastern tip, the other members of their expedition had already concluded their business.

  After slogging through numerous bars and lodgings, Ricardo and Az had located two more members of the Swords of Fortune—Monica Valkeria and Peter Zelphinas—and convinced them to return to the mercenary group for one last swing at the ancient pillar.

  Monica was a voluptuous Werewolf Shaman, with attractive elven features and long hair dyed leaf-green. She specialised purely in restoration and nature-based magic, and was famed amongst the Swords of Fortune for keeping them all alive.

  Peter, on the other hand, was a jovial bald Mage with a cool goatee beard and a knack for lightning magic. He had also developed his own spell which greatly enhanced the combat power of those around him, an idea he likened to a ‘buff’ from role-playing video games (instantly earning Connie and Genie’s nerdy respect).

  Ricardo Stern (along with many of the others) had planned on staying in a hotel overnight and then arranging passage to Beachhead Two on Tropica’s northern point the next day, but the strict Sergeant Matthias Winters had soon dismissed the idea, using his rank to acquire them all a place on a passenger liner in the evening. The stern Sergeant had not been expecting the tenacity of his adventurous companions, however, and the late-night voyage had soon descended into a booze cruise.

  Constance and Genevieve had only partaken in a few drinks, just to acquaint themselves further with the two new members of their team, before retreating to their room early to indulge in each other until the early hours of the morning.

  They were not the first couple to disappear into their rooms for some physical fun; most of the group had noticed the absence of the Tropican and Justiciar troopers. Hector Webb and Olishia Rose had snuck away early in the night, followed by Licinia Florens and Joran Ward a little later. Constance had been extremely amused, remembering how little they’d thought of each other initially, and likened the situation to her own experiences with Genevieve.

  Connie felt that she was very much in love with the Vampire Nightclaw, although she hadn’t risked ruining the moment by saying it out loud, especially as they hadn’t known each other for a long period of time—but she strongly suspected that Genevieve felt the same.

  She had feared that the appearance of Annabelle’s ghost would’ve set them back, but if anything, their relationship had become stronger than ever, and every minute Constance had spent in Genie’s presence was a minute where she hadn’t focused on the Creator.

  The passenger liner had been due to sail directly to Tropica City, but Matthias Winters had once again used his authority as a Justiciar officer to force the captain of the vessel to stop off at Beachhead Two before continuing to Tropica’s capital. Once everyone had departed, and the troop truck and Genevieve’s sports car had been driven off the cargo ramp, the Sergeant had put them all straight to work.

  Although Beachhead One on Desem’s northern tip had grown to the size of a city during the Great War, with the invading Imperian forces using it regularly as a key supply route, Beachhead Two had never reached a particularly high population; the Imperian infantry had learned early on that fighting a conventional ground war through Tropica’s thick jungles and rainforests would be too costly to invest in fully, compared to the barren lands that had belonged to the Nation of Industria.

  As such, there was less ground to cover than in the city of Gaelliard, and Genevieve had somehow managed to convince the Sergeant that she and Constance wouldn’t be of much use on their search around the quaint sandy town and bustling dockyards, and that their time would be better spent on ‘training’. The Vampire Nightclaw had driven them both south-west, towards the coast just outside of Beachhead Two to a secluded section of beach, but not before visiting a small shop beside a DVO petrol station to gather some supplies for their day in the sun.

  Connie looked up from her signed copy of Genie’s book, Dreamleaf Blues, and watched her girlfriend as she fought several rampaging Crustaciate—turquoise man-sized lobsters that rarely left their deep-water habitats—under the beating Tropican sun in a
ridiculously skimpy purple string bikini. The Book Wielder looked down at her own black string bikini that barely covered anything she wanted covered, and groaned, reminding herself to never go along with a dare from Genevieve again.

  The dare had started as an innocent joke in the shop they’d stopped off in to grab some beachwear. Genevieve had picked up a relatively normal two-piece and goaded Constance into buying it, so Connie had picked up a smaller outfit for Genie, and then the Vampire had picked up the first truly risqué outfit and dared the Book Wielder to wear it… things had only spiralled downhill from there.

  Constance was beginning to suspect that her girlfriend had planned to get her into some skimpy swimwear long in advance, as Genevieve had shaved the Book Wielder’s legs and armpits in the shower of their ferry room, and slightly reduced Connie’s thick triangle of trimmed pubic hair into a cute heart-shaped patch which suspiciously ended a few millimetres away from the edges of her new outfit.

  “Feel free to help out, honey…” Genevieve called over from the shoreline, as she sliced through the carapace of two nearby Crustaciate, felling them quickly and painlessly.

  Constance peeked over the book again. “You look like you’ve got it all under control. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable getting up wearing this bikini.”

  Genie scoffed as she somersaulted over some snapping pincers. “Why? Your privates are just about covered, and even then, it’s legal to be naked on any Tropican beach that isn’t specifically signposted stating otherwise…”

  “I know, I have lived in Tropica my entire life,” Connie snapped back.

  The half-naked Vampire Nightclaw pulled a mocking face and killed the last of the giant lobsters, before returning to her moody girlfriend, sliding her Katana into the warm white sand.

  “Come on… there’s no one around,” Genevieve said, trying to convince the Book Wielder to get up. “Besides, even if there was, they’d be too busy checking out my hot bod to notice you,” she joked.

  “I’m too busy reading about your duel with that frost Mage bitch Scythe,” Constance replied plainly.

 

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