"Here's goes nothing," he muttered, crossing his legs and clasping his fallen twin's deadly blade, desperately holding onto half-remembered attempts at meditation, knowing that everything counted on him not falling into twisted, hours-long dreams.
He did his best to visualize that odd tree of powers and potential that lay deep within his character sheet, for a moment catching scents of loam, pine, and honeysuckle as he visualized walking through a forest with Mitch by his side.
"What's your plan, Johnny-boy?"
John frowned, saying nothing to the kid he had so admired, before his besty turned out to be anything but.
"Get over yourself, John," Mitch sighed. "Dad and I aren't monsters. We have a world to save."
Mitch swallowed, suddenly looking nervous. "Two worlds. Confession time, John. The silent war Dad and I and numerous others are fighting against the Plague Queens? Not going so well. Caesar's taken notice. He knows things are not contained, and he is not happy. If he were any less happy, if he didn’t need us, I’d be screaming in a pain vat right about now."
His once best friend paled. "Johnny-boy? I'm going to admit it. We fucked up. Those Lilith clones are far more clever, resourceful, and organized than we thought possible. They've gone total dark. We can't find any trace of them. Thank God entire cities aren't turning to Revenant horrors, but we're getting a slow trickle, a steady buildup of fiends stalking the sewers of multiple cities. Rumors of vampires, ghosts, and things that walk the night are now popping up in newspapers almost as much as articles touting the virtues of trying Endless Online." He chuckled bitterly, but John wasn't paying any attention.
His pulse quickened with desperate hope as he carefully scooped out soil around the tree mirroring his soul, planting five jewel-like orbs plucked free of his soul. A gift from himself, to himself.
Mitch frowned. "What the hell are you doing, John? We're in trouble, here. All of us."
But John paid him on mind, sprinting for the forest clearing as fast as his feet could take him, hearing the cackling laughter of arachnid horrors approaching his most definitely sleeping form, knowing he was out of time.
15
Roll!
John crashed to the ground, instantly jolted out of hideous stupor as hot, caustic strands of sticky webbing seared against his cheek, frenzied rolling pulling John free with a hot sting of pain, gazing into the bitterly smiling face of a Plague Queen. A tiny flickering light hovered about her, as if to taunt John with light his eyes desperately craved. Not enough to fight with, just enough to see his doom coming.
"How many of you fucking clones do we have to kill before you stay dead?" screamed the abomination before him, the mirror image of Lilith with that same haunting familiarity to the cast of her features, obsidian eyes crackling with hate.
The ground exploded where one scythe-like limb swung.
The creature snarled. "It doesn't matter how many of you there are, Johnny-boy. Once we control the gate, you fuckers will be stuck on Earth, where you belong!" Cruel laughter echoed through the tunnel as John dived for the blade he had spent endless hours mastering by Mitch's side. A blade that he had never touched before.
"I did find it amusing that you actually managed to bring friends with you this time. And who was the girl? Already past her peak, but she reeked of longing for you. I could taste her dying thoughts, even as my sister fed upon her soul! Would you like to know her secret dreams? The flavor of her tears when all hope fled to agony? Her dying shame that she couldn’t focus past her pain to lash out with her mind? I look forward to sharing it all with you!"
John roared, sheer terror replaced by raw, primal rage. He continued to weave and dodge, faster than he had ever been before.
Fury catalyzes growth. You now have Tier 2 in Quickness. 1 of 5 points spent!
The light she had taunted him with suddenly winked out, and John realized it didn't matter. His wrath alone lit the room in a brilliant collage of crimson. He needed only heartbeats before his spatial sense interpreted the input as efficiently as looking into a well-lit room.
Weaving past arcing scythes and furiously stomping forelegs, John whipped his blade around in a vicious cleaving strike, ripping right through the closest weight-bearing leg in an explosion of gore shooting out like a fire hydrant, hydraulic pressure being relied upon as much as muscle for this hybrid breed of arachnid.
John ducked and pivoted as massive pincers slammed into the ground. He could see his prey perfectly, as if his rage had blazed to permanent crimson heat now highlighting everything with exquisite detail. Even the differentiation of warmer air and cool ground delineated exactly where he could best place his feet to dodge the now off-balance horror desperate to impale him before he brought her down.
Two-Handed blades Successfully Quantized at Rank 2! Neither a longsword nor a montante, this oversized kriegsmesser cleaves into your monstrous foe far more effectively than any one-handed blade ever could, with far more versatility in range and angle than a poleaxe would allow. It's almost like your brother trained you in a weapon specifically designed to counter horrific abominations even more effectively than it brings down armored soldiers! Hundreds of hours of diligent practice some other long-dead version of yourself embraced have finally paid off!
Your wrath blazes forth, echoing the fire of all things. You now have Tier 1 in Extrasensory Perception! Superior to even the most sophisticated thermal imaging goggles, you can sense heat better than a pit viper ever could! 2 of 5 points spent!
"Dodge. Weave, sidestep, and strike!" Mitch's words echoed through his skull as he flowed away from his enemy's vicious barrage of scythe-like blows, any one of which could take his head. And when his foe overcommitted in her zest to kill him, perhaps forgetting she was down one leg and now suddenly off-balance, John didn't hesitate to strike, sawing as he cleaved, pulling the blade towards him as yet another limb was sheared off in a spray of black bile.
"You insignificant parasite! Forcing me to waste my entire black gift on you. So be it! Be consumed by my swarm and serve me forever!" John could taste the pain and desperation between his nemesis's bluster. The horror shrieked, mouth opening wide, spraying John with a stream of black mist so thick it splashed him like liquid, countless microscopic worms wriggling into his flesh.
A deadly rain of plague-bringing parasites, drilling desperately into the creases between armor and skin, seeking purchase in his flesh, to no avail.
For his flesh was beyond that of most men, though his soft dermal layer maintained the appearance and sensitivity of human skin. He screamed his rage, his explosive exhale blowing the black swarm away from his nostrils and mouth as he tore into the horrific monstrosity with savage, cleaving blows, refusing to inhale as long as the mist lingered in the air. Yet he knew that Agneta would have wanted him to keep some shred of his humanity, even if he fought with the fury of a berserking demon. He could imagine her playful, bemused expression as she gazed down at him from a better place.
You have achieved Tier 1 in Durability! You absorb 20 points of damage and 1 Wound Tier from most attacks. Note. Humanity kept intact. Due to the limitations of human looking and feeling skin, thrusts or cuts from sharpened blades of 1040 or harder steel alloy will penetrate 1/2 of Durability resistances. (Note. Full damage resistance still applies, unless strike penetrates externally worn armor.). 3 of 5 points spent.
Jet black eyes filled with sudden fear as John held his breath and spun past the mist. "No. Even your earlier clones were paralyzed, fighting off our combined gifts. Easy prey! That bastard altered you further, didn't he?" She laughed the bitter laugh of a girl who had lost everything. "Your father must have enjoyed playing games with your genome even more than mine did torturing me!"
Critical strike! Greater Horror suffers 60 Damage and Heavy Wound! Greater Horror is crippled!
The creature that had once been human screamed as John's terrible blade sheered open its thorax, black gouts of liquid spouting all over as it screeched and shot streams of sticky w
ebbing in a frantic bid to slow John down.
Much to the abomination’s growing horror, John was faster and deadlier than the pitiful humans they had butchered just minutes ago, and hungry for vengeance. Effortlessly weaving past attacks that could entangle or suffocate, his own blade hissed through the air much like the silken streamers had, only now ending with a resounding crack.
Master hew successfully executed. You have successfully incorporated all your brother's lessons with the body you presently wear. Two-handed blades is now Rank 3! Now you must transcend the memories echoing through all your incarnations to further increase your skills.
And for an odd heartbeat, John locked gazes with the dying girl, her skull blasted open by the curved tip of John's tungsten-edged blade, with the exact same Schielhau blow that he and Mitch had once used to rupture God knew how many barbute helms that one endless summer he had forgotten about, until now.
That perhaps he had never lived at all.
Lilith's monstrous twin collapsed to the ground, blinking rapidly, her face a mask of terror and confusion.
Almost gently, John pulled his weapon free of her ravaged skull, taking deep, ragged breaths as he sensed the parasites die, causing no further injury to the monster who now looked like a girl caught in a bad dream from the waist up. Her frightened gaze locked onto his own.
If he paid no mind to the spider body she was fused to, she looked as human as any girl he had ever known.
She tried desperately to speak, blood streaming out of her mouth.
John gently stroked her brow. "It's alright. The nightmare's over. Go to sleep and wake up a girl once more. With parents who actually love you, haunted by bad dreams no longer."
Tired eyes smiled with gratitude before closing, her now human hand clasping his own.
He held it, and was gifted with a surprised, grateful squeeze, amazed to find he could read the dying thoughts echoing through her mind.
"My name was Amy, once upon a time."
"Mine was John Reacher."
He could taste her dying smile.
"I know. You're always the same."
An endless pause, and he thought she had breathed her last, surprising him when final whispered words entered his mind.
"Thank you for freeing me." Odd, final flashes then. Pictures of a girl whole and healthy in his mind's eye, smiling into his eyes with warmth, affection, something more. Poignant memories of a life neither of them had ever lived.
And then he sensed no more.
Lesser Plague Queen has expired! Experience earned!
Congratulations! Your Psionic abilities have begun to blossom in the crucible of combat! Mindreading is now Rank 1! You can now read the thoughts of anyone meeting your gaze, even Dauda! You can project thoughts your target will understand, regardless of linguistic barriers at a cost of 1 Psion per second, or speak in your own tongue for zero cost. Higher levels will let you scan the thoughts of those doing all they can to avoid your gaze, even piercing mental wards!
John crashed to his knees and howled, the desperate struggle for survival replaced by a hideous sense of loss, wracked by pain no resilience could ward, no regeneration could cure. He felt utterly drained, utterly empty. Wishing he could just sink into the stone and let the darkness carry away his grieving soul.
But if there was to be even a shred of hope for the children they had come to rescue, for the town in dire peril, he had to think, to act, to move. And the moment he shook free of despair, forcing himself to shaky feet, rage consumed him once more. His eyes suddenly widened, sensing the dark bounty Amy had unwittingly left him, an echo of the girl who had once smiled at a boy just like him in a coffee shop, God only knew how many lifetimes ago.
Even as chills raced down his spine, he focused on those dying memories, looking at the number she had written upon the napkin she had passed him, hope and promise in those warm brown eyes.
It was in a language he had never seen before.
John took a ragged breath, heart hammering, forcing himself to turn around, taking advantage of the heat signatures everything was giving off, giving him near perfect vision, at least in terms of differentiating objects even in pitch blackness. He wouldn’t be able to read books or see most painted details, but he could weave and dodge and fight with the best of them, and he could certainly make out the different buttons on the number pad in the metal door before him.
He swallowed, fingers caressing keys with indented hieroglyphic symbols that matched precisely the glyphs on the piece of paper Amy had passed him in their shared vision. They clicked into place, and he could feel the vibration of gears, the door slowly lifting, filling the corridor with silver-blue light.
Blade held at the ready, he ventured inside.
His heart raced with anxious panic as he slowly stepped through the mist, recalling Agneta's words of caution, what now seemed a lifetime ago, Castling his mind behind a bulwark of ebony stone, stepping forward through the mist on leather boots, doing his best to hide both mind and body as the door slid shut behind him.
"Sister, is that you? Bring me both clones at once. It is time!"
John's eyes widened as the awful chittering transformed to words in his mind, hands clenching the hilt of his tungsten steel blade as the desperate screams of children blasted through his mind.
Hesitating no longer, he raced through the mist, his Infravision picking out the terrain as easily as sight, his mind learning to incorporate both senses at once.
Fury carried him toward a horrific amalgamation of spider and woman, her three heads somehow melted and fused onto one torso covered in scales, pockmarks, and open soars dripping pus. Sprouting from shoulder-blades and arm sockets were four limbs stretched long as tree branches, covered with chitinous growths. The swollen thorax looked ready to burst. Warped nodule-covered human legs as well as spider limbs propped the massive body up before a vat of bubbling green slime, the horror holding a very human-looking child shrieking desperately as the monster forced a tube down her throat.
John's eyes widened as time seemed to freeze, catching sight of five children in the vat, already undergoing horrific transformations as flesh warped and twisted them into fresh abominations.
Then the horror froze, catching sight of John at last. "What? You live? No! How? I recognize that blade. It was destroyed! I saw to it myself! What have you done to my sister?"
John didn't hesitate. He ran forward with a howl, sparing only a second to catch the desperate gaze of a girl that looked the mirror image of Elowin herself. "Kick off from her, now! Run!"
The girl blinked, pummeling him with desperate thoughts, frowning as he closed. John would have been awed to see her gazing so coldly at the monstrosity pinning her, timing her actions, if he had not been filled with horror and blinding fury.
"Die!" he roared, lashing out with his blade in a feint to the abomination’s left flank before lashing out with a Zornhau strike.
The horror snarled, three of her spindly limbs instantly transforming to killing scythes.
Then two of its heads howled in pain as Elowin’s daughter shrieked.
It was all John could do to stay on his feet, riding his inertia, pivoting his hips and projecting his weight forward as his blade snapped down with the full might of his entire frame. Zornhau cleaved through killing scythe, his blade now defending his line even as it plunged forward, blasting through the temporarily stunned creature's human abdomen and chitin-covered thorax.
John then dropped into a roll, dodging the second scythe-like limb he sensed from behind, tearing his blade free from the collapsing horror as he did so. His foe was wounded, but still very much alive.
Castle partially resists child's Psionic Blast! You have taken 20 Damage and 1 Light Wound. Save made. Fury negates all wound penalties. 30 Psion spent!
You have Critically hit Mutated Horror! Horror has lost 1 limb and fails to resist impairment! Horror has -5 to all skill checks!
Arbitrary penalties aside, it didn’t stop the creatu
re's mad, flailing scythes from lashing out in a frenzy, John forced in that instant to make a terrible choice. Catching the little girl's eyes, sensing her terror at impending doom, her desperate plea for rescue, John lurched forward and lashed out with his blade to shatter a chitinous scythe that would have ripped the child in half, even as the final killing limb tore into John's abdomen, his world suddenly a haze of hideous pain.
Horror's Scythe has penetrated all armor! Scythe has penetrated Tier 1 Durability! You have suffered 50 damage and 1 Heavy Wound. Save made! Adrenaline keeps you on your feet! For a few seconds, anyway...
Howling with agony, John could feel the burning in his gut, knowing his foe had cleaved through something vital. Knowing as well that he had to press the attack, or he was as good as dead. So he charged forward, into the unexpecting arms of his foe.
John's eyes met the furious gaze of the horror he faced, lashing out with his mind in a desperate attempt to stun his foe as he cleaved through the air, feeling the deadly scythe jerk against his armored back a heartbeat before his kriegsmesser cleaved through flesh and bone, the blade sheering through multiple spines as easily as he had eventually sheered through 4-inch logs wrapped in tatami.
The massive fused head glared at John in inhuman fury as it toppled to the ground, the stump erupting in a geyser of blood.
John crashed to the floor and wheezed, one of his legs unable to move, only then feeling the hot burn of multiple rents in his armor, realizing his Mindblade and crashing into his foe had not completely stopped those deadly limbs.
50 Damage and Crippling Wound taken! Rank 1 Greater Regeneration stops all internal bleeding seconds before you would have perished! Good thing you got 'ahead' of her, John, before she crucified your behind!
Lesser Mutated Horror has expired. Experience earned!
John's guts twisted as adrenalized fury was replaced with nausea and exhaustion, made all the worse when he realized he was less than 20 Survival Points away from death. He forced himself to look around in case any enemies thought to sneak up on him, sensing nothing save the desperate cries of children locked in cages nearby and the concerned gaze of a very precocious little girl.
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