by Sean Davies
“Do you think Constance Lee is enough for this task?” Alice asked. “Shouldn't we send more forces into the access shaft itself, rather than on top of it?”
“She'll do just fine…” Queen Azalea assured her, her voice sounding distant, the way often did when she was focusing on a vision. “As long as she makes the choice that I think she will.”
“I'd like to base the future of our planet on more than just your intuition,” Alice snapped back. “No offense.”
“Well, maybe we could take your approach and hit the Creator with a hammer until he plays nice,” Azalea retorted dryly.
“If we need to help out then we'll be in the right place,” Winston intervened, before the two former Inquisitor Generals could continue arguing. “However, I do believe Connie will do us proud, and I'd rather not be tempted with that much power given my poor personal history,” he joked self-deprecatingly. “Queen Azalea, do you have another long-range airship we could borrow?”
“There are a few in development, but I'll make sure at least one is flyable as soon as possible,” the alluring pink-haired Queen of Tropica replied. “The Mana Du Vortes is mostly done…”
“Awesome, help yourself to whatever personnel and resources you need to make it happen,” Winston said, ignoring Alice's disapproving stare. “Thank you all. I'll announce the official Conclave shortly—feel free to stay on Central Isle while I make the arrangements.”
All the high-ranking officials thanked Winston in turn, and congratulated Alice and Chloe (who stayed seated as the room emptied), before whispering to each other about the planet's supposed origins and the bizarre turn of events.
When the office door was closed, Winston let out a long, relieved sigh and slumped down in his chair. “How did I do?” he asked.
“Fine and dandy,” Chloe said, making the okay symbol with her fingers.
“It's good to have the old you back in the command seat,” Alice told him. “Although, I'm still not sure that informing everyone about what's going on is such a good idea.”
“The panic caused by not knowing may be worse than the initial shock,” Winston replied. “It all depends on how long Connie takes, but judging from what V and I saw in my mind, the Creator's likely to up its game sooner rather than later.”
“We should advise all the parties that attend the Conclave of Nations to increase security,” Veronica suggested. “Some people will probably use it as an excuse to start stealing and stuff… speaking from my own extensive experience of criminal life,” she added with a smirk.
“Definitely,” Winston agreed. “At least there are two less threats to world stability now—really nice work on that, guys.”
“You’re welcome, boss-man,” Chloe said with a smile.
“Just doing my job,” Alice said, shrugging off his compliment. “Though I must say, I'm glad you didn't turn out to be Omniosis incarnate, or Dark-Winston—I was worried you'd be my third target.”
“After fighting a giant robo-Alice, I'm glad for my own sake that wasn't the case,” Winston chuckled.
The Lord Imperator looked puzzled. “Excuse me?”
“We’ll explain another time,” Veronica laughed.
✽ ✽ ✽
Deep inside the ancient pillar, the expedition team lost track of time as they studied the endless pit below them and paced miserably around the room they were trapped in, stricken with grief and despair.
Stitches had patched up his many rips, tears, and punctures in silence, using the special sewing kit that his Needle Maiden sweetheart Spensa had kindly given him, and had then burnt Quoronastra’s and Monica Valkeria's bodies with witchfire, as there had been no other way to conceal their corpses with dignity. The brown fabric Alternative had then spoken a few words for each of the fallen, and Charlotte, Leanne, and Peter had also given a brief eulogy for their lost comrades, followed by a tearful thanks from Genevieve who acknowledged their sacrifice in the name of Mydia's future.
Ricardo and Constance were simply mute, and took a great deal of time to snap out of their depressed states.
As time dragged on, it became clearer to the small team that time was indeed acting strangely; none of the group required sustenance or rest, and they even found that their energy was rapidly restored if they wandered close to the edge of the metal ledge. Nothing, however, could cure their terrible woes.
After a fair amount of time, Genevieve got to her feet. “There's got to be some way to continue,” she said resolutely.
“Not unless you can fly,” Ricardo droned tonelessly.
“I can glide, but not that far,” Genie replied. “Come on, this can't be it.”
“I can walk on walls, but I won't be able to carry everyone,” Stitches said unhappily. “If Quoro was still with us, I'd be able to copy his Dragon form...” He trailed off miserably.
Genevieve sighed and racked her brains for any idea that could prove beneficial, trying her best to think objectively despite the dire circumstances. Then, Genie found herself remembering the night Veronica had tried setting her up with Constance, at the Endless Overlook restaurant on Central Isle, and an idea popped into her head.
“Connie, your party trick!” the Vampire Nightclaw gasped.
“My what?” Constance asked with a bemused frown.
“The thing you do with your book, where you get it to show you the past!” Genevieve elaborated excitedly. “Tons of Book Wielders must have passed through this place in the days of the original Conclave—we just need to see what they did!”
Connie's pearl-tinted white eyes went wide with understanding, and she quickly opened her book out on the floor. “You're right… you gorgeous genius, Genevieve Jameson!”
The Book Wielder dried her eyes and placed both hands on the blank pages of her book, forcing her distraught mind to be calm so that she could will the old tome to show them the way.
Lines of black ink wiggled erratically back and forth across the pages, sketching out a shoddy outline of a robed figure walking above a large triangle. The image looked like a child's interpretation of a street sign, and Connie could only hold it steady for a moment before her mind clouded with thoughts of her lost companions and the picture faded away.
“What did that mean?” Constance demanded, catching her breath after the strenuous spell.
Genevieve shrugged. “Looks like there's a pyramid we're meant to walk over. Maybe part of the floor is marked?”
“I think I know,” Ricardo said, scooping up a handful of bullet casings from the floor. “I think that picture was at the wrong angle.”
“I did my best,” Constance grumbled, taking offense.
“No, no—I'm not saying there's a problem with what you did, baby doll, I'm saying we were looking at it the wrong way,” Ricardo explained.
“You think the triangle is the ledge, and that the figure was walking over it?” Stitches guessed.
“Exactly, Alt-man!” Ricardo beamed as he approached the edge. “Of course, if I'm wrong then we're all pretty screwed.”
The adventurer tossed the bullet casings over the ledge, but instead of falling into the black abyss, they fell towards the metal wall and clattered to a stop a few metres underneath Ricardo.
“The gravity’s been altered!” Genevieve gasped.
“I bloody well hope so...” Ricardo exhaled, pausing for a moment before taking the first brave step over the edge. Luckily for the adventurer, his body was pulled firmly over the side, and he continued to walk down the wall as if it was the floor. “What are you lot waiting for?” he called back behind him fearlessly. “We've got a planet to save!”
Stitches walked over without hesitation, as he'd never truly known the restrictions of gravity in the first place, and the others gathered their things and precariously followed, ignoring the churning in their stomachs and the overwhelming sense of vertigo that was telling them that they were about to fall to their doom.
“See? Nothing to worry about,” Ricardo said with a cheeky grin, hiding the f
act that he'd been just as unnerved by the experience as the others.
“Why couldn't they have just put an elevator here?” Charlotte moaned.
“My thoughts exactly,” Peter Zelphinas added.
“Samesies,” Leanne agreed, looking ahead at the walkway reaching off into the new dark horizon.
Stitches studied his non-functioning pocket watch again before replying, “If time is so distorted here, I guess there was no need for anyone back then to hurry.”
“This isn't the Conclave's territory anymore, either,” Constance replied knowingly. “Where we're going is all the Creator's doing.”
“Can you feel that we're close?” Genevieve asked.
Connie nodded in confirmation before looking off into the distance. “Well... relatively speaking.”
The expedition team walked down the metal walkway for what felt like hours, but no one could tell for sure as even their perception of time was becoming noticeably clouded.
Eventually the tunnel widened, and the sides dropped away so that only the thick metal ‘floor’ remained, floating in a sea of darkness. Soon after, the sound of hissing steam, clunking gears, and loud rattling and whirring filled the void. As they walked, they began to come across bands of floating light that revealed the expedition team were surrounded by ridiculously gigantic mechanisms, all moving in strange patterns, floating about and refitting themselves into new positions, liquefying and reforming into different parts, and firing streams of golden energy through engraved geometric rivulets like a pulse. Wide channels of Deep Vein Oil snaked around the walkway in wonderful arcs, flowing in and out of the walls like it was being propelled through invisible pipelines.
“I guess this is where the DVO is disappearing to,” Leanne said, turning around in circles as she gawped at her mind-blowing surroundings.
“We should’ve brought a few barrels for the return trip,” Peter Zelphinas joked, stroking his goatee as he tried to cheer the team up.
“Quoronastra would’ve loved to have seen this,” Stitches said mournfully.
“They all would’ve done,” Charlotte added quietly.
“We’ll make it up to all of them—except Till—by succeeding, no matter what’s ahead,” Ricardo said resolutely, putting an arm around Charlotte and Stitches. “Right?”
“Right,” the Alt and the mercenary both said together, patting the adventurer on the back.
“You okay, babe?” Genevieve asked Connie.
The Book Wielder reached out and put her arm around Genie’s slim waist. “I just can't believe how many people died... because of me.”
The Vampire Nightclaw shook her head vehemently. “They didn't lose their lives because of you. They died defending Mydia, like heroes. We'll honour them by fixing this whole Creator mess, just like Ricardo said.”
Constance cuddled up to her girlfriend. “I really don't know what I'd do without you, Genie.”
“I'm not going anywhere, hun,” Genie assured her, kissing her girlfriend reverently on the head as they followed the others.
They continued onwards, and the magic radiating from the Creator’s devices became so intense they could actually see it in brilliant colourful waves, ripples, and clouds.
The Supernaturals were so energised they felt like they'd been knocking back Rushdust all day, and even Charlotte and Leanne—the only regular humans left in the group—found they could perform small harmless spells. They proceeded to start a snowball fight with each other, as they carried on walking for what seemed like an eternity.
The machine-covered walls were obscured by the hazy magical clouds, which only thickened the further they walked, and they soon resembled a wall of ever-changing abstract art.
No one knew how far they'd travelled or for how long, when the shifting patterns and colours eventually blended together and formed a sea of space, stars, galaxies, and nebulas, as though they had walked into the very cosmos itself.
Without warning, as though the group had woken from a joint dream, they were standing on an endless field of blue grass underneath a sky filled with twinkling stars. Within the scenic landscape was a large pair of golden doors, standing alone and appearing to lead to nowhere.
“This is where I came before,” Genevieve gasped, remembering her near-death experience from her early days in the Golden Fangs gang. “This is the afterlife... or at least a window into it.”
“How? And why?” Charlotte asked distractedly, mesmerized by their surroundings.
“The power radiating from the Creator is probably softening the fabric of our dimension,” Stitches explained. “Like with the ghosts on the surface, but on a much bigger scale.”
“Yay, ghosts,” Charlotte sighed sarcastically.
“If there are ghosts, they’ll probably be people you know, Char-Char,” Leanne reassured her. “Although it is a bit scary being around things that bullets can’t hit.”
“I don’t know,” Ricardo shrugged. “Genevieve can dodge bullets, and she doesn’t seem that scary to me… sexy as sin, but not scary,” the adventurer flirted cheekily.
“You haven’t seen her in the bedroom,” Constance whispered in Ricardo’s ear.
“No, but it’s on my-to do list,” he said with a wink.
“Never gonna happen,” Genie grinned, giving Constance a deliberately long kiss. “But you’re welcome to keep on dreaming.”
Peter wolf-whistled and Ricardo pretended to go faint, as Charlotte and Leanne laughed.
To no one’s surprise, a handful of ghostly figures soon appeared in the distance, and they began calling to different members of the group. As the apparitions grew nearer, it became clear that they were dearly departed loved ones and relatives of the team. One by one, the group fractured and began to converse warmly with the ghostly people, fearing no ill intent from the familiar spectres.
Genevieve looked around and wondered how long they should dawdle, until someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see her old boss Lucius, his second-in-command Xavier, and their stunning Vampire wives from an age long since passed.
Lucius was dressed in a black pinstriped suit with the Shadow Circle gang’s logo stitched onto his jacket’s front pocket, and Xavier was wearing a vintage crimson suit. Both Vampires had their long black hair tied back with red ribbons.
Lucius’ wife had incredibly long ginger hair that had been arranged in an elegant half-up, half-down braid, held in place with an emerald hairclip in the shape of a beautiful butterfly, and she wore a marvellous green ball gown. Xavier’s spouse had wavy dark brown hair that was swept over one shoulder, tumbling over her black and red ball gown, just short of her waist. Both women were as pale as fresh snow and had looks to die for.
“Is this the Nightclaw that makes you look slow, dearest husband?” Xavier’s wife asked.
“Yes, honey. Genevieve Jameson herself,” Xavier confirmed with a friendly smile.
Genie was stunned with happiness, and tried to say several things at once.
“I know, I know,” Lucius said with an amused grin, “it's terribly unsettling to see Xavier acting human...”
Lucius' wife poked her husband in the ribs. “Be polite, you haven't even introduced us yet!”
“Yes, my dark midnight flower, at once, my dark midnight flower,” Lucius sighed, rolling his eyes but clearly loving every second in her company from the joyous expression on his pale face.
Before the former leader of the Shadow Circle could introduce them, Genevieve pounced forward and hugged him and Xavier tightly, thankful that the ghosts were solid enough to touch.
“I missed you guys so much!” Genevieve said tearfully, squeezing tighter. “It's just not the same without you! Gregory and I are doing our best though, and all the others are doing well.”
“We know, well done...” Xavier grunted.
“I'm proud of you, but please stop killing us—one death was quite enough for one lifetime, thank you,” Lucius joked, patting Genevieve on the shoulder.
“Oops, sor
ry!” Genevieve apologised, letting them go quickly. “I’m just so sorry for… you know, what happened to you both.”
Lucius regained his composure and straightened his suit. “We lived the good life and took what we could, while we could. We had a good run, Genevieve, don’t worry about us. We’re back with our beloveds.”
“You kept us waiting long enough,” Xavier’s wife complained.
Xavier chuckled. “Well, I’m sorry we didn’t die sooner, honey.”
Genevieve laughed. “You’re right, boss—it is weird seeing Xav with a sense of humour.”
The ghosts sniggered, before Lucius’ wife gave him another encouraging nudge in the ribs.
“Right, right, introductions,” the former leader of the Shadow Circle gang said to appease his other half. “This is my wonderful wife Alicia.”
“Charmed, my dear,” Alicia said, taking Genie’s hand and kissing it.
“And this is my wicked wife Stephanie,” Xavier joked.
Stephanie sighed and shook her head at Xavier, before she too kissed Genevieve’s hand. “A pleasure, to be sure, and I love what you’ve done with your hair. Oh, what interesting styles you youngsters sport these days!”
“Thanks,” Genie grinned. “It’s really nice to meet you both.”
“Sorry, guys—mind if I cut in?” a cute female voice asked from behind the married Vampires.
“Annabelle?!” Genevieve gasped, feeling as though her heart was about to pop out of her chest.
“We’ll leave you two to catch up,” Lucius said with a polite nod. “Give our love to the others.”
“And tell Winston to keep out of trouble,” Xavier said, before leaning in closer to whisper, “but I suppose it’s too late for that, considering he’s already married.”
“I heard that, mister!” Stephanie chided, making the other Vampires giggle.
They waved goodbye and faded away, leaving Genevieve face-to-face with Annabelle.
The alluring blonde bombshell was dolled up to the extreme, wearing a figure-hugging white dress that left little to the imagination. As always, she was the perfect mix of angel and devil that took Genie’s breath away, and her confident green eyes cut deep into the Vampire Nightclaw’s soul.