The Phoenix Fallacy_Book III_Magnus

by Jon Sourbeer,

  Ramirez appeared, grabbing Celes firmly, and in one rather effortless motion, hauled both of them up.

  Janus felt a terrible pit in his stomach and looked back. The railing, and Marcus, were gone. Celes stared distantly at the place where Marcus had been. Ramirez put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “Celes…” Janus turned but stopped. He was about to say thank you, but that seemed vaguely inappropriate. “Come on,” he concluded, hanging his head down.

  She nodded. They didn’t give the pit another glance. They couldn’t afford to.

  Lyn was waiting for them in the observation room, resting against the surviving console. “Lyn!” Janus exclaimed in amazement.

  “Are you OK?” Celes asked quietly.

  She smiled cheerily, “Well, other t’an a pounding head and Janus screaming at me, I think I’ll be fine. I jus’ woke up.” Her Outskirter accent was particularly thick at the moment.

  Janus lowered his voice, “Sorry. Glad you’re OK,” he finished weakly.

  Ramirez knelt beside her, and she smiled at him, but her smile quickly disappeared. “What’s wrong?” She asked him.

  Janus opened his mouth, but stopped. He couldn’t look her in the eye. He suddenly realized he couldn’t look anyone in the eye.

  Celes cleared her throat, “Marcus…”

  Lyn reached for Ramirez urgently, motioning for a helping hand. He pulled her upright effortlessly, and Lyn clutched her head, a grimace on her face, “What happened?”

  “He fell,” Janus said to the ground.

  She took a sharp breath and clutched her back, then shook her head. “We can’t stay here ta think about it, and I don’t think Marcus would want us ta’.” She paused. “What we’re lookin’ for is below.”

  Janus clenched his fists. “No.” He forced himself to look at Lyn. “You’re in no shape to continue. It’s incredible you’re even walking right now.”

  Lyn smiled, tapped her head, and winced.

  Janus looked at Ramirez, “We can’t just leave you here.” Ramirez nodded in understanding.

  Lyn wobbled over to a broken console, “I’ll make my own way out. Ya can’t afford ta not have Ramirez with ya.”

  Celes agreed, “Janus, Lyn is right, we have to finish the miss—”

  Janus cut her off, “What we can’t afford is to be any more distracted than we already are. How useful will we be while we wonder if Lyn’s wobbled her way into a group of Inferni? No, Ramirez will accompany you.”

  Lyn stole a glance at the pit, and then to Janus, but offered no further objections. She nodded, grimaced, and pointed to her left, “While I was trying ta figure out how to help ya, I was studying the consoles. I’m pretty sure…” she woozily reached down into the broken controls, and Ramirez sprang forward, but she waved him off. “That this is the lift control.” She grasped a couple of protruding wires, tied them together, and hit a large button. The light on the lift turned green and rose back into the observation room.

  Lyn waved at the lift, “We’ll send ya down, then head for an exit.”

  Ramirez pointed to a functioning screen adjacent to him, “There’s a hanger close. A few levels down, but close.”

  Janus turned to Celes, but she spoke before he had even opened his mouth, “Let’s finish this.”

  Janus paused, then nodded solemnly. He stepped onto the lift, turning to face Ramirez and Lyn. Celes stood next to him. For a moment, the world went quiet. Ramirez supported Lyn. Janus stood next to Celes.

  “For ODIN.” Lyn said.

  Ramirez helped her stand straight. “For our way,” he grunted.

  “For the past, and our future,” Janus breathed.

  “For everyone we love, and everyone we’ve lost,” Celes whispered.

  Janus gazed at her, and she smiled.

  “For Marcus,” they all said together.

  Chapter 50: Crossroads of Destiny

  Row after row of cryochambers flashed by, as the lift shot downwards. Robotic daedulus arms, working tirelessly, fed gaping black maws along the walls. But the glimmer of light glowing brighter and brighter below them held their attention. Celes held a lingering look back upwards, and Janus understood. Did Marcus fall all this way?

  In a rush, the cryochambers disappeared, replaced by hard stone, peeling away to reveal a gigantic cavern deep within the earth.

  Celes stared in wonder at the immense, underground structure, “Was this natural?”

  Janus stiffened, pointing down, “That isn’t.” In the middle of the yawning cavern, a giant metallic structure seemingly hovered above the abyss. Heavy columns disappeared below into the darkness. It was shaped like an ancient compass rose, with a square center stretching out in four directions, and a massive circular ring connecting the four points. Below this platform, a tangled mess not unlike the halo up above hummed with energy.

  And on each of the four corners, steam issuing eagerly from their vents and engines, waited an ancient, ballistic missile.

  Celes gasped in realization, “Each of the cryochamber bays must also be a launch silo! That’s why it’s taken Delacroix so long – Phoenix literally collapsed into the heart of it. The excavation alone must have taken years.”

  Janus silently agreed, crouching low. Two other lifts descended from above, bringing cargo and Troopers to the edges of the compass, while a third ascended up another passage, bearing a load of supplies. Hundreds of S.T.s rushed back and forth. The cross was a hub for all of the Phoenix underground, and with the ongoing attack from ODIN, it was being used as a crossroads for all of the Titan Troopers it could handle.

  Janus stole a quick peek over the edge. Heavy crates surrounded the edge of the small receiving area. Their small lift had undoubtedly been used as an impromptu cargo elevator before Delacroix had locked it down.

  “Two Inferni,” Janus said, unsheathing his Ghostblade just a notch. “I’ll take them.” Celes nodded in understanding.

  The lift slowed and Janus performed quick flip over the heads of the Inferni. They didn’t even glance up, and Janus dispatched one as he landed with a vertical slice. The second whirled upon Janus, but a quick horizontal slash eliminated him. Janus took a quick glance around, they were hidden within a mass of crates marked P.S.R.s.

  “Food supplies for the army,” Celes noted. They must be using this cavern as the main supply warehouse because of its accessibility.”

  Peering from between the crates of Passers, Janus studied the cavern. The elevator had dropped them on a standalone platform along the northernmost arm of the compass. The compass itself was off-center from the cryochamber control room far above them, and far larger. A short flight of stairs connected them to the Northern side, just adjacent to the circular bridgeway connecting the four arms of the cross.

  It was like being in the eye of the storm. All around them, Troopers rushed, but not one glanced in their direction. Each was too busy with their immediate task to notice them. A squad of Troopers escorting a loading trolley rumbled past – carrying their Zeus rifles in one hand.

  It became clear there was nowhere to hide. The press of S.T.s was simply too much too stay unnoticed if they tried to move along the compass. Only the shadows of the dark cavern and feeble lights would grant them any protection.

  Where are Norm and Magnus?

  As if to answer his question, Delacroix appeared from the tangled mess below, striding up a set of stairs in his command suit, surrounded by a group of chattering technicians in Titan uniforms. They all seemed to be surprised that the suit was undamaged.

  Delacroix’s angry voice resonated, amplified by his command suit. “Where is he?” Delacroix grabbed an S.T. by the bottom lip of his helmet, pulling him forward.

  “I don’t know, sir!” The S.T. had to stand on tiptoes as Delacroix yanked him upward. The man struggled to speak, “You—you said yourself that he boosted into one of the prep—prep rooms.”

  Delacroix tossed the S.T. aside, and grabbed the nearest Infernus, “Find him! Now!”

>   “Yes, sir!” The Infernus performed an awkward salute and leapt away as fast as possible. S.T.s scattered, dropping boxes, forming a no man’s land around Delacroix.

  “Prepare the missiles for launch,” Delacroix said irritably. The technicians scurried away.

  Celes grimaced and whispered, “We need to stop those missiles.”

  “I don’t think we are going to be able to reach the command console – it’s too heavily guarded,” Janus said.

  “Do you think a variable grenade or two could do it?”

  “Maybe – but aimed where? The console, or the missiles themselves? And we would have to get closer. It’s much too far a throw,” Janus mused. “Can you get a shot on Delacroix?”

  Celes sighted the command suit, shaking her head, “Maybe. But it would have to be a clear shot at his visor.” She paused as two more Inferni hustled up to Delacroix and fidgeted nervously nearby.

  “What is it?” Delacroix asked coldly.

  The first shoved the second forward. The volunteer fumbled with his words, his voice nervously high, “Uh…sir, the launch silos are blocked.”

  Delacroix said nothing. The Infernus’ stuttered for a moment, before reluctantly continuing.

  “It appears someone is causing the cryochamber transfer arms to stop up the tubes. We can’t launch until…” he petered off.

  “And who is doing this?”

  “Well, sir…uh…we presume that…that is to say…”

  The first one spoke in a single rapid sentence, “The-Inferni-in-the-halo-were-driven-back-so-we-think-it-is-the-Mercs.”

  Janus smiled inwardly, Lyn and Ramirez.

  Delacroix’s stared at the unfortunate Infernus behind the dark command visor, “So, get back up there and Unblock. The. Tubes.” He pointed to the observation room lift.

  Without hesitation, the pair dashed towards the stairs, heading straight for Janus and Celes. Janus immediately signaled Celes – Where?

  Celes grimaced and pointed down. The pair leapt to the back of the elevated platform and swung over the edge, pressing themselves against the thin struts. Janus turned his head to see a lone S.T. on the circular bridgeway gaping at them.

  “Merc!” The Trooper yelled while fumbling for his weapon.

  Janus had only a moment to flash Hide, and then he leapt from the struts, his Ghostblade drawn. He had no idea what else to do.

  Chapter 51: The Lost Legion

  Janus crashed into the S.T. roughly, rolling over him and grabbing the railing to arrest his momentum. Two more S.T.s came rushing around the corner. Pulling his Ghostblade from the dead Trooper, Janus whipped out his Fenris pistol and dispatched the two.

  And then Janus took off, emerging from behind the stairs and running straight for the nearest missile. Running at top speed bought him a head start, and little else. He was surprised how quickly the Inferni and S.T.s had reacted. Zeus fire tore apart the platform around him as he ran, and he ducked, barely keeping his feet in front of him as he hurtled forward.

  Janus raced ahead frantically. The tip of the compass offered little solace. A large gap separated him from the missile, but a set of stairs led down to the launch platform.

  Zeus rounds whizzed by, but a new hole in the side of the massive weapon resulted in a scream of dismay from Delacroix, and the firing ceased.

  A pair of S.T.s rushed up from the stairs, but Janus quickly dispatched them with a few shots and a kick, using them to clear a path below. A press of troops arrived above him and Janus flew headlong downwards. More Troopers appeared above him, and Janus fired indiscriminately over his shoulder, hoping to slow the gathering mass. But the pounding of boots sounded from both directions, and Janus searched frantically for any way to escape. A pulsing glow from deep within the tangled mass of the compass caught his eye.

  A fusion reactor. The largest he had ever seen – enough to power twenty million cryochambers for a hundred years. Its bright blue hue glowed innocuously. The entire bottom level of the compass was a huge power station for managing it.

  The roar of jump jets snapped him back to the moment. An Infernus deftly landed next to him, claws extended. Without hesitation, Janus unsheathed his blade and leapt forward pushing the tip towards the Infernus, who tumbled backwards at the fearsome weapon and over the railing. Janus followed, leaping onto the Infernus as it struggled to slow its fall towards the bottom platform. The Infernus thrashed at him while firing his jets, and Janus latched onto his back. Only a few meters from the ground, Janus dropped, slicing through the soldier and landed neatly on the ground with a roll.

  Janus looked up. Dozens of Troopers were rushing down the stairs, almost upon him. The missile steamed upon its platform, connected by a service structure and an umbilical to the Cross. Janus raced along it, sheathing his Ghostblade and grabbing two variable grenades from his belt with a smooth motion. Delacroix appeared at the tip of the stairs, shouting, “Capture him!”

  With a flick, Janus armed the two grenades as the press of Troopers charged towards him. He hurled the grenades as clawed hands fell upon him from behind, knocking his arm aside and gashing through his armor. Janus watched the grenades flight, even as the wind rushed painfully from his lungs and he was pinned to the metal grating.

  But the grenades wobbled in air from the interrupted throw, falling short of the missile and plummeting into the abyss. One of the Inferni taunted him, “You need to work on that throwing arm, ki—”

  An explosive flash and the sound of shrieking metal stopped him. The massive rocket teetered back and forth. A long, loud groan issuing form the deep below. The group of soldiers watched the missile nervously as it swayed towards the arm of the compass, but it slowly, slowly, stopped.

  As it finally came to a standstill, another Infernus laughed, “Close call—”

  SNAP!

  With a sudden pitch, the missile careened towards them as the umbilical buckled. S.T.s screamed as they were pitched into the blackness, but the surrounding Inferni grabbed Janus roughly and leapt backwards, their jump jets straining.

  The monstrous ballistic missile plunged forward, tearing through the platform and into the mass of machinery and wires, removing the Northern tip of the compass and settling with a grinding halt. The Inferni alighted along the arm, and Janus surveyed his handiwork. A few S.T.s clung to the shorn walkway, crawling back to safety with the help of their companions. The missile itself was scraped and battered, but largely intact.

  A moment later, Delacroix landed next to them, and the Inferni pressed Janus forward, “Lord Delacroix.”

  Delacroix motioned to the middle of the compass, “Bring him to the center, and get the techs down here to look at this mess.”

  Janus was quickly and unceremoniously dragged from the spot.

  Janus struggled to keep his head up, his faces inches above the serrated grating of the catwalks, as his arms were painfully bent behind him by the vice-like claws of his captors. His armor caught upon the rough edges as he was yanked forward, and it dug painfully into his legs and chest. His journey was not a long one, however, and the tips of the boots of a command suit appeared in his field of vision. He twisted his head slowly, glancing around.

  An S.T., with his helmet open, stood slightly behind him, holding his weapons. An Infernus held each of his arms, and the left one spoke.

  “My Lord, missiles three and four should be ready for launch shortly, but one and two are disabled. Tube two daedulus arms were used to assault our forces stationed there and to break into the observation room. We don’t have a number yet for the troop casualties, but it appears the cryochambers survived. When missile one toppled, we lost three platoons of S.T.s plus two Inferni. We’ll have an idea of the missile’s status as soon as the techs understand the damage.

  Delacroix nodded, staring at Janus, “Adepts.”

  Janus stared back. Delacroix crouched in the massive suit, grabbing Janus’ neck roughly, “So Norm claims your name is Janus?”

  “It is,” Janus rasped.


  “There is a resemblance. I must give Norm credit for going to such lengths.”

  Janus coughed out a laugh, “You’re in denial, aren’t you?”

  Delacroix chuckled with him, and then tilted Janus’ neck back. Janus gurgled in pain. The brush of metal against his skin told him that the locket had slipped from his armor, but a moment later, the pain stopped.

  Delacroix reached for the chain – slowly and carefully, with more skill and precision than should be possible in such a suit. Delacroix held the tiny Phoenix within his massive hand.

  Janus coughed, “My adoptive mother found it on me. I was at the top of a mountainous trash heap. I had fallen from the upper levels – and I had a charred, burning S.T. next to me.”

  Delacroix stared at the locket, rubbing it gently, as if he could feel the texture through the heavy gloves. Suddenly, he ripped it from Janus’ neck and his voice became angry, “This has gone far enough. Norm will pay for this.” He glanced at the Infernus holding Janus, “Kill him, immediately. And make sure the techs remove missile one from the launch sequencer.”

  The Infernus nodded. Still holding Janus with one arm, he raised his flamethrower on the other.

  Janus took one last look at Delacroix, shock and anger stamped across his face – Delacroix took a step back.

  The crack of a splintering visor caught everyone but Janus off-guard. The Infernus dropped Janus, collapsing backwards as his flamethrower went wild. Janus rolled to avoid the searing heat of the flames. Instead, the flamethrower coated the S.T., who flailed in panic as the flames washed over his open helmet.

  Janus leapt up, but where he had expected to find Celes watching over him again, he found another command suit standing at the fore of descending freight lifts.

  “There! Our beloved Corporation has been invaded by Titan troops! The Adepts have come to our aid, help them to defend Phoenix!” Norm shouted. And behind him was a legion of Troopers, newly woken, and loyal to an Overlord that had long ago put them to sleep.