The spell I choose is one that gives vision in the infrared spectrum. Because I tend to judge the temperature of metals based on their color in the visible light spectrum, it is not a spell that I normally use. It takes me longer to cast it than my pattern sight spell, and the pain from channeling my Power makes it feel like my Body, Mind, and Soul were being crushed together.
As the spell affects my eyes, my view of the world changes to a gradient of blues. Like I expected, the spell is not well-suited to the low-level temperatures of the world around me. Other than the active HVAC units, there is barely enough of a differential in the ambient temperatures to allow me to see the surfaces and outlines of the equipment on the roof, but it does reveal a very faint darker blue roughly human shape by the HVAC units.
The spell sucks for how I'm using it, but I can vaguely see one of them. I'm trying to find the other one.
Because I keep checking the position of the first intruder, it takes me five or six seconds to locate the second one. With the limitations of my infrared vision spell, I cannot tell how they are dressed or armed.
As I draw my swords, the nearer intruder spins around with his arms moving as though he is drawing a bow. As I charge forward at an angle, he tracks my movement and releases.
The instant the arrow clears the bow, overlaid against the blue scale of my infrared vision, its pattern becomes visible. While it is moving several times faster than a bullet from a handgun, with my blades in hand, I only need a flick of my wrist to deflect it.
The Archer Springs backward. The arrow he releases in midair is perfectly timed to synchronize with that fired by the second intruder, but I still easily knocked them both out of the air. Despite their attacks, their invisibility is not broken, and they remain nothing but darker blue patches against the background of the active HVAC equipment. If the archers move where there is nothing putting out higher heat to silhouette them, I might lose sight of them
With his jump covering more than 20 yards, the first intruder lands on top of another of the large HVAC units. As the first intruder lands, the second one makes a leap of his own, and they both fire another pair of arrows at me.
Ducking low, I charge after them and deflect the arrows with roof blocks from both of my blades. The force of the unexpected explosions slams me onto my belly on the roof, and I sloppily roll into cover behind another piece of equipment.
To my surprise, no further arrows come at me, and I scramble into a crouching position to scan the rooftop. Neither of the archers are in my line of vision.
Elan?
Irritation fills my whisper channel with Elan. They both jumped straight up, above the level of my wards, and I lost track of them. I do not know what they did or what happened to them.
I spend another thirty minutes searching the roof and the surrounding ground and buildings, but I cannot find any trace of the two intruders. I do find two of the arrows that were fired at me, and they match the ones used on Dacbold and myself.
As near as I can tell, they're gone. This makes no sense. What the fuck were they after? Why did they try to break in? How did they go invisible to your wards? If they had a way to be undetectable to the wards you're using, why didn't they use it in the first place?
Elan's irritation fills the whisper channel. What I am more interested in is how they are becoming completely invisible to my spells. The way I warded this building, there are not many ways I know to hide from detection, and all of them are extremely Power intensive to use. Whoever those two intruders may be, they are extremely adept at stealth techniques.
After warning Dacbold and Valcrit about the intruders, I return to bed, but I do not sleep. I spend the remainder of the night staring at the ceiling tiles and thinking about all the enemies I have faced over the decades. In the Battleground of the Damned and the Lands of Despair, there were no lack of people with extremely strong stealth abilities and spells, but nothing that I have encountered is on the level of those two intruders. Even, a better form of infrared vision would only be useful at night. During the day, there would be too much interference from the sunlight, and everything would be a blur in the infrared spectrum.
*
*That human has the soul of the killer and deeply buried pain. I am surprised by how much his aura resembles your own. It seems that there are others, besides yourself, on this Earth that are not mindless sheep.* As she observes Special Agent Jones from the corner of her eye, Elan has what could almost pass for a smile.
My party is gathered in the conference room for breakfast, and today, Special Agent Jones has joined the group.
Dacbold raises his eyes from the tablet on the table in front of him and looks at me. "I never thought about it, but if Woden is really the god of conquest and subterfuge, him being Allah is easy to see."
I do not hide my confusion at Dacbold's words. "I don't get your reasoning. Islam is a religion of peace, so why would a god of conquest and subterfuge be behind it?"
Dacbold and Special Agent Jones look at each other, and Special Agent Jones has a disgusted look on his face. "For someone with a low genius IQ, he can really be stupid sometimes."
Dacbold's face shifts into an expressionless mask. "Modern education."
Special Agent Jones snorts and looks away. "We should just kill all the teachers and university professors. It would help clean up America."
"It wouldn't be enough."
Looking back at Dacbold, Special Agent Jones glares. Though, for him, a glare is pretty much his normal way of looking at someone. "It would make me feel better."
I am a little surprised at how well the pair of them are getting along. They almost seem like a pair of long-lost brothers that have been reunited.
"What am I missing?"
Considering the anger radiating from him like the heat of a forge, I'm not certain what to make of Special Agent Jones' laugh.
Dacbold frowns. "You teachers and the media have been lying to you for your entire life. The only peace that Islam offers to a nonbeliever is the peace of the grave. Even compared with the Catholic Church in the Middle Ages, Islam is far and away one of the most violent and antagonistic religions ever conceived. The Aztecs would've probably given them a run for their money but I can't really think of anyone else that would."
"I still don't get it. I know America spent sixty years trying to conquer the Mideast, but everything we were taught in social awareness portrayed America as the aggressor."
Special Agent Jones snorts. "You don't know shit about Islam, and you don't know shit about the Mideast. You never had boots on the ground over there. Their whole religion is based on killing the unbelievers, and anything goes as long as it promotes the spread of Islam."
Dacbold turns his eyes back to the tablet computer in front of him. "Islam has a practice called taqiya. It was defined as the principle of practicing the dissimulation of outward conformity permitted Muslims in a hostile or persecuting non-Muslim environment for the sake of their personal safety. At least, that was the Webster's definition for it. When you deal with them, you learn that it means if you're not a towel head in the same sect as they are they will lie to your face and stab you in the back.
"Before I joined the Army, I went to college. I had a friend in my university engineering department. At least, I thought he was a friend. He was an Islamic. He was Indian not a camel fucker, but I learned the hard way, an Islamic is an Islamic. We went to the same classes, hung out, played sports and computer games together, chased skirts together, pretty much all the things you would do with a friend. Then, near graduation, out of the blue, the guy looks me straight in the eye and tells me that because I do not worship Allah I deserve to be killed. I'll never forget the way he looked at me and the cold, murderous hatred in his eyes. He was never really my friend. It was all just make-believe because he was living among unbelievers. That's a form of taqiya."
Dacbold sighs. "After I was deployed in Afghanistan, I saw what taqiya really was. They would tell you one thing to your face, a
nd behind your back, they would be trying to rob you blind or kill you. It was the same thing happen over and over, but for them, there was nothing wrong with what they were doing because we're unbelievers."
Special Agent Jones turns his glare and my direction. "I've never been a genius, but I've always learned about my enemy. Both inside American borders and around the world, I spent a lot of years hunting down towel head terrorists. While I was on stakeouts in shitholes you've never heard of, I started reading the Islamic Quran, hadith, and sira.
"In the Quran, chapter 3, verse 28 says, 'Let not believers take disbelievers as allies rather than believers. And whoever does that has nothing with Allah, except when taking precaution against them in prudence. And Allah warns you of Himself, and to Allah is the destination.' It would've been a sin against Allah to be real friends with a nonbeliever."
Special Agent Jones pauses for a moment. "The only love in Islam is for other towel head Islamic fuckers that are part of the same sect as themselves. Even if they're in a different sect, it's okay to lie to them and kill them. That's Islam. In chapter 9, verse 29, the Quran says, 'Fight those who do not believe in Allah or in the Last Day and who do not consider unlawful what Allah and His Messenger have made unlawful and who do not adopt the religion of truth from those who were given the Scripture - until they give the jizyah willingly while they are humbled.'
"Jizyah is a tax by Islamic states on non-Islamic states. If you don't lick their asses and bow down before their camel fucking prophet's sweaty balls, they'll do their damnedest to conquer you and tax the survivors into destituton.
"Chapter 9, verse 123 is more of the same. 'O you who have believed, fight those adjacent to you of the disbelievers and let them find in you harshness. And know that Allah is with the righteous.'"
Special Agent Jones stops talking. With a shadow of darkness in his eyes, he stares off into space, looking at something only he can see.
After a few moments, Dacbold sighs. "It must've been pretty dull on those stakeouts for you to start memorizing Quran verses."
Special Agent Jones starts and looks all around the room. "I memorized the whole damn thing. Special Agent Jones once said to me, 'know your enemy and know yourself.' I know my enemy. At least, I did before they put this plate in my skull. Those dickbags that did this to me and those fucking traitors in the FBI all think that Woden is Allah. Since Allah is the same god as this Woden fucker, I still know my enemy, my real enemy."
I cannot help but smile grimly. Special Agent Jones has balls of solid steel. He is a man that is not afraid to call his enemy and enemy and piss on political correctness. With the exception of a few men in Urehara-sensei's dojo, after I was scarred, I never met men that I could respect. Even, the few men trained by Urehara-sensei barely qualified for the title of men. Earth, at least America, is filled with nothing but eunuchs and faggots.
"So, the Islamic nations of the Earth probably all follow Woden."
With a grim expression, Dacbold nods. "Pretty much, and that amounts to nearly 40% of the world's population."
"Then, what about America? I thought this country was Woden's plaything, but it seems he's fighting with two obvious factions and a possible shadow faction for control."
Dacbold shrugs. "It would explain the twisted mess of shit that has been American politics for the last hundred years and more. One of the factions is definitely the Chinese, so that should be some kind of dragon controlled faction. Long before they were Chicoms, they worshiped dragons."
"What about the third faction? Can you tell what their national connections are?"
Dacbold frowns. "Everything from Mexico south. You've heard of La Raza, right?"
I nod.
"Okay, everyone thinks La Raza is all about the Spanish speaking people south of the border, but in reality, they're all about the descendants of the former indigenous peoples of Central and South America. Part of their worship is centered around the feathered serpents, another form of dragon. On Taereun, there are number of cultures around the northern part of what would be South America and Central America here on Earth that worship the feathered serpents. From what's in the Dvergar history texts, those feathered serpents are a type of dragon. My guess would be that the nominal god or gods behind the faction associated with La Raza is one or more of the feathered serpents. La Raza must have connections to a kingdom on Taereun that worships them."
I do not even try to keep the angry frown off my face. I do not worship any of the self-proclaimed gods, and I do not recognize their supposed divinity. Living on this shit hole of a world, I had reached the point where it was a struggle not to kill people. To say the least, killing one of the shitbags would have made life on Earth problematic for me. I already have a beef with Woden over dropping me in the Great Fuck Over without so much as a please or by your leave. If the shit I had to deal with growing up was the result of him having a pissing contest with a bunch of lizards, I am going to keep clawing and struggling for Power, until I'm strong enough to destroy them all.
"That shadow faction is real. From what I can tell, it's the last vestiges of the people who believed in America and the Constitution. I think they're an offshoot of some cultish groups that go all the way back to pre-Christian Judaism. When you look at the history of the Earth, America is an anomaly. There was no other nation or culture that espoused the beliefs in inalienable rights and freedoms. There were various philosophers and philosophies that touched on the founding principles of this nation, but the Founders were the only ones that ever put those philosophies into practice. The reason they look like a shadow faction is because they've almost been wiped out."
I look around the room. Everyone else is looking at me, waiting for me. It seems that no matter how you look at it, I am the undisputed and acknowledged leader of this group. I have never sought out followers, and I do not know for what reasons these people have chosen to follow me.
"The Earth is too fucked up to be fixed, and I don't give a fuck about the people living here. With the dragons' bitches hunting us to, we can't sit around here any longer. We'll go back through the gate tonight and get the Night Raven.
"Elan, how close are you to finishing the containment wards for Delphi?"
Elan smiles. "I will be finished before sunset."
I look at Dacbold.
Dacbold shrugs. "If we bring the Night Raven here, I will take me less than two hours to move a piece of the patterning machinery into the hold. It looks like we really only need one of the big units to get a complete copy of the system."
"Everyone be ready to move at midnight. We might be attacked between now and then, but I'm not going to run around like a bitch because of some shit-eating dragon worshipers.
"Dacbold, can you show Special Agent Jones that hidden armory?"
Dacbold nods and gives Special Agent Jones a wry smile. "There are a couple AA12s in there."
Special Agent Jones has a glint in his eye as the pair leave the room.
Sisters of Penitence
*** Central California – Earth ***
Return: Day 346
August 9, 2078
(Brand)
The three-dimensional building floor plans displayed by the holographic projector in the conference room have several sections colored in black. Those black areas are the parts of the Burning Medical Research Hospital where Delphi can not reach. Even when a device controlled by Delphi enters the black areas, nothing is recorded that can be retrieved after the device leaves the black areas.
Dacbold and Special Agent Jones are in the conference room staring at the hospital floor plans from two other sides of the holographic display.
Special Agent Jones points to one of the black areas. "I was in this area when I woke up with their metal plate in my skull. The security doors to that section are heavily armored enough to stop any normal anti-personnel rounds. Without a valid ID badge and someone with the matching DNA, you'll need either C-4 or an anti-armor rocket to open those doors."
W
ith a complete lack of expression on his face, Dacbold chuckles and does a bad imitation of a Mexican accent. "We don't need no stinking explosives. We got the Power."
With his lips slightly parted as there was about to say something, Special Agent Jones looks at Dacbold, and then, shakes his head. From the expression on his face as he looks at the floor plans again, Special Agent Jones appears to be on the verge of taking a swing at Dacbold.
The hospital security footage, accessed by Delphi, shows that Kyle Summers, the faggot doctor that seems to have that faggot football player Bobby under his thumb, entered one of the black areas after lunch and has yet to come out.
Hiding the beginnings of a smirk, Dacbold schools his face back into an expressionless mask. "If we want to do it quiet, we can just have Valcrit mind fuck that faggot doctor and let them walk us through the door."
"For twenty years, I tiptoed around social cameras, the police, and the fucked up laws. I really don't feel like doing it quiet. We can just kick the doors. Anyone stupid enough to stay in my way can die."
"If we do it that way, they might have time to purge some of the data we want."
I frown. "We can have Valcrit mind fuck the faggot."
There are five vehicles entering the parking area of this complex. Elan's words are voiced in the general raid channel.
I cycle though the external cameras and bring up the best view of the intruders. There is one limousine accompanied by four SUVs. All five vehicles are painted a brilliant snowy white color, and they stop in a V formation facing the main doors of this building.
"Alpine white. It looks much better on high end sports cars." Dacbold has a slightly disapproving expression on his face.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
As I take out my armor and drop the heavy pieces on the conference table, both of Special Agent Jones' eyebrows raise. He picks up one of the rerebraces, and his eyes open a bit wider. "You actually wear all this when you fight now?"
Cults of the Dragon Gods Page 16