Gods of Myth and Midnight: A LitRPG Novel (Seeds of Chaos Book 3)

by Azalea Ellis

  She scowled at me. “What do you mean, ‘actually?’ I have good ideas all the time!”

  I grinned at her. “You realize we’ll have to take off all our armor before we go in there, right? We might be recognized otherwise.”

  Her eyes widened. “Err… Breakfast is overrated anyway—”

  “We’re stopping for breakfast, everyone!” I called out, overriding her mumbled objections.

  In an alley behind the restaurant, hidden behind a huge trash bin, we stashed our bikes and armor and made sure we were bundled up in enough cold-weather gear to hide as many of our distinguishing characteristics as possible.

  We thought Adam might be a problem, but he used ink to coat his actual legs and controlled the ink to make it look like he was walking normally. Still, his eyes narrowed as he examined the diner’s entrance. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Jacky seemed to have regained all her enthusiasm when she smelled the scent of hot food wafting from the inside of the restaurant. “Yes! All my ideas are good, Adam. You agree with me, no?” She cracked her knuckles threateningly.

  He just groaned in a put-upon manner and grumbled to himself.

  Birch hid inside Kris’ pack, and though a few patrons glanced our way as we entered, no one paid us much attention.

  Our group took up two whole booths, and when the tired-looking waitress took our order, her eyes grew wider and wider along with the size of our food order. She hesitated before going back to the kitchen. “Um, will you be wanting any of this to go? We can wait to cook it till you’re finished eating.”

  “No,” I said, speaking through the shemagh still covering my lower face. “We’ve been on the road for a while, so we’re pretty hungry. I doubt there will be any left over.”

  We were so excited to eat something besides preserved rations that, when the food arrived, we dug in like animals, practically inhaling it off our plates. That drew a few more looks, as did Kris feeding sausages into her pack, where Birch was hidden, but, in general, the other people in the restaurant continued to ignore us.

  Most of the patrons were focused on a smartglass screen hung at one corner, which was displaying a fluffy pseudo-news station.

  When my face popped up on the screen with a reminder to contact the Department of Defense with any information about me, I choked on my eggs. They had my name as well as a general description of me now, probably obtained from NIX.

  Jacky pounded on my back, doing more harm than good as she tried to help me breathe again. The image changed away from my face to a film clip of a group of people riding motorcycles. They crashed through what looked like a glass wall in slow motion, shards and water flying everywhere.

  The people landed in a pool and there were some glowing blue light waves under the water, one person who shot through the water like a fish, and another small form that had turned completely black. Then the camera focused on the nearby edge, where Zed popped out of the water, followed by me again.

  In the film, I crawled out of the water, hair plastered to my face, my eyes glowing in the light of the sun. I slowly looked the person behind the camera over, from their feet to their head. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, my voice rough and a little deep, like black coffee. When I stood, I towered above the eye-line of the camera. I gazed into the distance like a character shooting a dramatic commercial for shampoo or something. Or maybe a trailer for an action film.

  Watching this in the diner, I gaped stupidly at the screen as the reporter responded to me in shock. Was that what I looked like to other people?

  "We are being chased by aliens," the Eve on the screen said. "I doubt they're friendly, and I doubt they're going to care if you get squished as collateral damage. We can't protect you. Run away if you want to live."

  The reporter and her camera stayed for a few more seconds before Zed snapped at her and she ran off, taking her camera with her.

  The clip ended there, and the screen cut to a man and woman, the show’s hosts, both leaning forward in excitement. “If you’ve had access to the news channels or the net, you’ve probably seen this clip. We have with us Maria Vanderhurst, the reporter who managed to film the mysterious woman, now revealed to be Eve Redding, and her group of fellow superhumans who have been fighting against the alien invaders,” the female host said.

  I turned to Jacky and elbowed her in the side surreptitiously. “I look so cool!” I gloated, low enough none of the other patrons would hear.

  The camera cut to the reporter who’d happened to be standing next to the mall pool when we crash-landed into it. She smiled brightly and thanked the two hosts.

  The man flashed a too-white smile at her. “So, Maria. How did it feel to meet Eve Redding? What did you think when the wall behind you exploded into pieces?”

  Maria grinned proudly and leaned toward the camera as if sharing a secret. “Well, Brad, I’ll be honest, I was shocked. There’s something the camera didn’t catch. I saw them coming, and I thought they would smash into the side of the building and then fall to the ground. I don’t know if you’re aware, but the reinforced plastine that wall was made of isn’t some window glass you can break so easily. They flew over using some of their powers, and then, just as they were about to smash into the side of the building, a black spear formed and blasted right through the wall! Everything blew up, and they landed safely in the pool.”

  The questioning went on from there, and Maria answered confidently, making things up about our powers and personalities like an expert, despite the fact she’d met us for less than a minute. On the bright side, she was adamant that we were the good guys, and hadn’t kidnapped anyone.

  One of the other restaurant customers turned to another table and asked loudly, “Look at what they were wearing! No way that’s military, I tell you. They don’t even match each other, not to mention they’re completely different than those bodysuits the other guys were wearing.”

  “But they have powers,” a man at the other table insisted. “You ever met a normal person with powers? How else did they get them if they’re not part of that secret military division?”

  A younger man at a booth scoffed loudly, turning around to face the rest of the room fully. “I’ll tell you what’s going on! Obviously, they escaped from some government research facility. You want proof? Look at the rest of the group. Some of them are kids! How else does the military suddenly pop up with superhumans perfectly suited to fighting these aliens and their powers? They’ve been planning for this! Experimenting on people in secret! They must have known about the aliens before they said anything, and this Redding chick and the kids were some of their experiments.”

  The man who’d insisted we were military rolled his eyes, but the first speaker smoothed his mustache thoughtfully. “That would explain why they’re offering a reward for her.”

  A woman with a smoker’s hoarse voice said, “How the hell would they get away with experimenting on children? No, if you ask me, this girl was experimented on by the aliens. Did you notice that skin on her arm and that weird thing stuck in her throat? Hell, she had six fingers, and she spoke their language. She had to have escaped from one of their ships and now she has a grudge against them. That’s why the aliens were coming after her and they crashed into the mall to escape.”

  Our whole group stared at the other patrons in astonishment.

  —Act normal, guys. And maybe we should hurry up and get out of here. We’re just asking to be recognized.—

  -Eve-

  We called for the check and had the second half of our food boxed up to go. Adam paid with some random person’s hacked account information, and we tried to look as normal as possible, despite still being all bundled up inside the warm restaurant.

  The waitress gave us an amused look, no doubt thinking we’d gotten full earlier than expected. When we pushed back into the cold of the outdoors, however, she opened the door behind us, holding a couple more bags of boxed up food. “Here,” she said simply, thrusting them ou
t toward me.

  I reached forward slowly, and took the bags from her.

  Before I could ask what she was doing, she said, “Thank you. My sister was in that city.” Then she turned back around and hurried into the restaurant, leaving me standing there, speechless, with two full bags of food in my arms.

  Adam groaned and rolled his eyes. “Is this the time for an ‘I told you so?’ Because I did.”

  Sam, surprisingly, smiled. “I don’t think she’s going to report us.”

  I grimaced. “We’d still better get out of here. She might not be the only one who recognized us. Besides, we got what we came for.”

  Jacky grinned, completely unconcerned, and grabbed one of the kids under each of her arms, sprinting to the hidden bikes and armor while they shrieked in delight and struggled to escape her grip. “If NIX comes after us, we’ll just beat ‘em up again!”

  Chapter 23

  On the coldest nights

  I’ll look for your glow

  among the burning embers

  of your fiery soul.

  — Christy Ann Martine

  Whether or not anyone else recognized us or reported us, we didn’t see any signs of pursuit.

  At another small town we passed, Adam stopped at a local tattoo parlor and purchased a whole box of ink. He used some of it to refill his stash of cartridges, but, to my surprise, he had something else in mind for the rest.

  When we stopped again at a roadside rest stop to stretch our legs, he came over to me with one of the bottles. “You need some shields,” he said, no room in his tone for argument. “Permanent ones, that you can use at any time, whether or not I’m able to protect you.”

  “You want to give me a tattoo?”

  “I want to give the whole group a series of tattoos,” he corrected. “But you’re first, because, in my experience, you’re the most likely to get yourself killed doing something stupid. And,” his voice softened a bit, “whatever’s coming isn’t going to be easy. We need every edge we can get.”

  I nodded. “It’s a good idea. Let’s do it.”

  Gregor and Birch both trotted over with almost identical looks of curiosity. “Us, too? Even though I’m still eight?” Gregor said.

  “Err,” Adam looked to me. “The tattoos won’t actually be permanent, they’ll go away as soon as they’re used—”

  I waved my hand at his hesitation. “It’s fine. After everything else that’s happened, a tattoo isn’t something to be worried about.”

  Adam agreed, then settled down and started shoving ink into my skin. He didn’t need any sort of equipment, he simply let a drop fall onto me, then used his Skill to shape it and force it past the surface of my skin. It hurt, but, compared to the injuries from the things we’d been through, the pain was negligible. “These are normal shields,” he said, pressing the ink spot on the back of my wrist into a dark grey oval shape and then covering it with a fractal web that stood out from the background. “I’ve been experimenting whenever I’ve got energy to spare, and my Skill seems to like the design aspect. It might look weaker because the base layer is so thin and it’s covered in raised lines, but it’ll do a better job of defending you than a plain black circle.” When blood welled up around the tattoo, he gently wiped it away with a sterilizing pad and then covered the area with a strip of liquid skin bandage.

  “I’ll heal in a couple hours. I probably don’t need a bandage.”

  “I know,” he said, but he still pressed it onto my skin and rubbed it softly to make sure it was fully attached.

  Next, he sank an image of a three-dimensional sphere beside the oval shield. “This is a spherical shield. It won’t move with you once you’ve activated it, though.” Once again, he covered it with abstract designs. “Since these are actual tattoos, using blood and flesh, and significant as I can make them, they should be fairly strong. At my current Skill level, each one should last for about five minutes once you activate it, unless whatever you’re defending against puts undue stress on it.” He continued that way till I had a bracelet of seven complex little shields lined up all the way around my wrist, his cold fingers pressing into my skin as he worked.

  It only took a few minutes, but he was tired by the time he’d finished. “My Bestow Skill isn’t very strong yet. I’ll do more later, for everyone.”

  Torliam, who’d been sitting nearby and glaring at Adam as he worked, crossed his arms. “Hmph,” he scoffed. “Save your strength. I will not need such a limited method of defense.”

  Adam’s hand, still holding my wrist, tightened in anger.

  “Adam can do more than just shields,” I said. “He gave me wings last time.”

  “My Skill is of the upper air. When I am at full strength, I can fly on my own. I struggle to see what his weak Skill might do for me that I cannot do better myself. With me by her side, Eve will not have any need of your little scribbles.” Torliam sneered at Adam, obviously trying to provoke him.

  “But you’re not a full strength, are you?” Adam snapped. “I certainly haven’t seen you flying around like it’s nothing. And if you don’t want it, that’s fine with me. I’ll save my strength for doing something worthwhile.” He used an ink construct to help him stand, the multi-legged form raising him even higher than Torliam. He opened his mouth to continue, but, instead of speaking, he looked to the side and frowned.

  I followed his gaze to Zed, who was sitting at one of the picnic tables. My brothers’ eyes rolled around spastically as his eyelids fluttered.

  My awareness had exploded out of my skin before I realized it, searching for an enemy or signs of a hostile Skill, even as I hurried toward him. I found no signs of an attack, and pressed my hands against his shoulders, both to help steady him and to make it easier to push Wraith into his body and search for signs of injury.

  “‘M not hurt,” he mumbled. “It’s my VR chip. Windows are going crazy with gibberish, and I’m tasting and feeling things that aren’t there.”

  I forced my mind to calm and focus, then pushed my awareness gingerly into Zed’s brain. When I found the VR chip, which was one of a few chips in his brain, I focused Wraith on it, forcing my awareness to deepen, till details too small for even my augmented eyes became clear to my senses.

  His VR chip was…teeming with little artificial bodies. I frowned. It was made of nanites, but the way they were swarming around it seemed abnormal. I couldn’t be sure, though, because none of us had the same concentration of nanites he did, or any bodily augmentations which depended on them. I caught a hint of a few scattered Seed organisms, too, but nothing that seemed dangerous. In fact, the nanites seemed to be repairing or replacing sections of the chip.

  I withdrew my awareness and motioned for Sam to do his own check. “It looks like maybe there was damage to the VR chip, and the nanites are repairing it,” I said.

  Adam scowled. “Do you think NIX gave us defective booster?”

  Zed’s disorientation seemed to settle. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. “I don’t think so. I can feel when a lot of the nanites start to degrade. I feel tired and sick and my body starts to ache. After I took the booster, that went away, so unless they hid something else in it, I don’t think the ingredients were off. My nanites repaired themselves just fine.”

  Sam drew his hands off Zed’s forehead. “He’s not injured, for what it’s worth.”

  Zed shrugged, his smile a little lopsided. “Maybe this is just what happens, when your whole body is full of nanites and you starve them of the elements they need to repair themselves. Besides, I feel better already.”

  Adam and I shared a doubtful look. “Let us know if it happens again,” I said. Though what we could do to help him, I didn’t know. I hoped Zed was right, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to believe it. Nothing was ever so easy.

  We continued north, meticulously avoiding any large cities despite the crowding of even the backroads. It grew colder and colder as we went. Keeping a group of irritable, frustrated, cold, and wind-bi
tten people and children driving all day, every day, was a recipe for hot tempers and bickering.

  I spent some time looking through the chemistry book I’d taken from the abandoned pod and trying to refine my control of Chaos with simple things like wood carving, turning water into mist both by boiling it and by instantly subliming it, and a couple other tricks that weren’t as cool as what I could do in the dream, but were more appropriate training for my actual ability. I was beginning to understand why Behelaino had thought I was so stupid when I was barely able to grasp the simplest use of Chaos.

  We made it all the way to northern Canada before we had to rent a plane. Adam paid way too many credits for us to ride along with the cargo. Of course, we didn’t care, because they weren’t our credits.

  We flew north to a land of semi-eternal darkness, Ellesmere Island. Weak lights glimmered from the few buildings that housed the people who stayed there even during winter.

  "This close to the north pole," Gregor said, "it will be dark all day long."

  I was glad that we had kept the winter gear from our trip through the Other Place, because the temperatures were miserably frigid. Just standing there on the landing pad of the tiny little airport nearly froze me solid.

  "We must still go further north," Torliam said. "However, I have the sense that we are drawing close."

  Gregor huddled further into the hood of his jacket, like a turtle. "This is the northernmost island in the Arctic Archipelago. This god better be close, or we’ll have to cross the Arctic Ocean. If we keep going we’ll be in Russia, on the other side of the planet.”

  Jacky reached out to pinch his cheek, but was rebuffed by a slap of his hand. “Aww, you’re so smart, bambino,” she cooed.

  He glared at her and stomped away to hide behind Torliam.

  Our bikes weren’t really meant for off-road travel, so we decided to find a sturdier ride before beginning our exploration.

  Since Sam was the most harmless-looking and simultaneously forgettable adult in our group, we sent him to one of the few local businesses to get supplies and information, while the rest of us hunkered down in an unlit, unheated waiting complex near the airfield.