“This is suicide, Mathias,” said Adam.
“Would my father have run away? Of course not. He would have stayed and fought in order to do what was right, to protect the people who can’t protect themselves. That’s what I’m all about, remember? You’re the one who showed me I was going about it wrong, trying to help the innocent by killing all the wicked people in the world. That wasn’t the way. Standing up for what’s right, even against all odds, for the sake of the people who are important to you, that’s what it means to be a just man.”
Adam had no words; Mathias could not have said it better. Though it was not Mathias’ intent, he caused Adam to relive his shame for having abandoned Magid as the palace fell and for his current plans to leave it as he travelled towards Earth. Mathias saw his failing esteem and moved his hand off of Adam’s shoulder.
“The Creator’s still out to get you and Blondie,” he said. “You ought to catch up with her and get as far away from here as you can.”
“I’m not going to leave you and your men here while that army breaks their way in,” Adam said.
“Would you rather leave the women and children, the sick and the elderly, the rest of the civilians and Blondie no less out in the open where they’re easy pickings for the Creator or any other advancing part of the invading army? The girl’s talented, but she can’t help those people all by herself. Help her get them to safety and then you two make for the Great Wall to the south. From there, get to a portal and get to Earth as fast as you can, do you understand?”
“I’m not alright with this,” Adam told him.
“Like I give a damn what you think,” Mathias countered. “I’m the King of Leapador. Now get out of here and make yourself useful.”
Adam stood in front of Mathias, unwilling to leave but knowing full well that he was unable to stay. Mathias was right: the Creator was after him and Dee, and if anything leaving the city would be the best thing Adam could do. Adam turned away from Mathias and faced the barred gate. He took a deep breath, lowering his hands beneath his knees. Then with a forceful shout he shot his hands above his head. There came a thunderous sound behind the castle walls and the ground shook beneath the feet of the soldiers. A thick wall of rock shot high into the sky, rising even beyond the tall walls guarding the castle. Though they could not see, the ground in front of this new wall collapsed into a deep pit at a distance of ten feet or so. With the chasm and wall blocking the only gated entrance of the castle, the building was now impenetrable to invasion from the Opal King’s army.
Mathias looked in awe at the show of force that Adam had imparted, feeling his ally’s hand now clamping on his shoulder. “I hope that helps for the time being. You’d better hope the Creator decides to come after me, or you’re out of luck.”
“Thanks,” Mathias told Adam. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry that this had to happen to you,” Adam told Mathias. The two kings’ eyes met.
“Same to you,” Mathias said. “You’re a good man, Adam. Don’t ever let anybody convince you otherwise, not Oracle, not the Creator himself.”
Adam nodded and turned away from Mathias and his soldiers, bound for the open gate behind them. Before he could pass through, Mathias called out to him one last time. “Hey! If you should come across Nelly again, just by chance, could you tell her I’m sorry? For everything?”
“Yeah,” Adam shouted back. “If I see her, I’ll be sure to let her know.”
The two shared no further words and didn’t catch eyes again. Adam passed through the open gate and, anticipating Mathias’ wishes, restored the stone to seal him and his soldiers in place. No one left behind objected. They knew their duty to their country, and to the people they had entrusted to Adam and Dee. Now they stood in the empty courtyard, waiting for the invading army to reach the castle, discover the obstacle, and call upon the Creator for aid. Whether things would happen that way was unknown, and Mathias could do nothing but wait in the stillness of the night and hope that no matter what would happen, there would be a quick resolution so he didn’t have to worry about it all anymore.
Beyond the castle walls, the last defenders of Wensfell could hear the approaching army. The sound of their marching came to a halt as they reached the gap in front of the wall Adam had created. Mathias’s guards readied themselves while Mathias stood resolute. For a time nothing could be heard beyond the wall and the scene was quiet. This was a good sign for Mathias, at least for the time being. It meant that Adam’s defense had served a purpose and stopped the Opal King’s troops in their tracks. Were Mathias’ enemies just a normal regiment of soldiers, he might have saved his city. But all of them knew there were more than sword wielding men on the other side of that wall.
There was a flash of movement high above them that caught Mathias’ attention. At the top of the wall Adam had driven up from the ground, there was something crawling that caught the light of the moon against its white skin. As Mathias looked closer, he saw that it was not skin; it was far too smooth. It was as if it were polished, like metal. He confirmed this when the source of the movement fell from atop the wall and crashed down into the courtyard. The startled soldiers of Mathias’ guard recoiled and held up their swords as the metal monster bent totally upright to stand over eight feet tall. A single red eye glowed at the center of its head, and as it caught sight of the humans around it the robot released an unsettling shriek. Those who caught sight of it shrank back at first, but remembering their duty cast aside their fear and kept their swords up as the living instrument of war lurched forward.
The soldiers of Leapador were skilled warriors, some of whom who had seen war first hand and fought for their country against their enemy to the north. Still, nothing could have prepared them for the assault of Mr. White’s mechanical bodyguard. The machine existed for two reasons: to protect its master and to kill in his name. It was fulfilling that second goal now as it pounced upon Mathias’ soldiers and using its sickle-like claws to slice through their armor and slash them open. It used its weight to pin a man down and slaughter him with the swiftness of a bird of prey before jumping onto the next man. The guards could only beat at its solid skin with their swords, but even their fine weapons could not damage the hardened carapace of the machine. The ensemble of men soon became targets as the creature called Spartacus tore them apart while they tried desperately to defend themselves.
A group of soldiers ran to the aid of their downed comrade, but their advance was picked up right away by Spartacus. The machine bent down and launched itself high into the air as the guards rushed in to stab at it. They turned their heads up as Spartacus descended, pointing its feet at the closest guard. It landed on him, crushing him down before reaching out to snatch up two more men in its claws and slam them together with lethal force. The remaining men stepped back in terror, but they would not go far. Spartacus released its current victims and flipped upside down to capture the heads of two men with its feet and smash them to the ground as it landed. More attempts were made to stab at it, but Spartacus was unperturbed by their prodding and proceeded to slaughter the rest of them.
Spartacus lunged at Mathias next, but the last two of his guards leapt in the path of the assassin. The force of its weight pinned them both down, and with indifference to its target Spartacus impaled the faithful men with its claws. Mathias took the chance to draw his pistol and fire at the robot’s midsection. The bullet struck its chest plate and stuck on the surface, barely making a dent in the hard carapace. Spartacus took its eye off of the dying men at its feet and identified Mathias. The light of its eyes widened as it focused, studying him. Mathias fired again as Spartacus pounced at him with its clawed hands jutting out forward.
In desperation, Mathias reached into his shirt and threw a fist sized cylinder ahead of him. It struck Spartacus less than a yard away from him and exploded with a pulsing shockwave that disrupted the machine’s path of movement and allowed for Mathias to just narrowly avoid the claws. The burst of his concussive bla
st was not just felt on Spartacus. Mathias was thrown to the ground and his chest felt crushed in. He wheezed for air while rolling back onto his side and catching sight of his enemy. Spartacus had already righted itself and was staring down Mathias with curiosity. The burst had not damaged it much at all, but it had given him a bit more time.
Still disoriented, Mathias jumped to his feet and felt around his jacket. Despite wearing the garments of a king, he had never been able to get rid of his assortment of knives, guns, and incendiary devices that he had carried as a bounty hunter. They would serve him well now as a sword had no effect on the mechanical monster. Grenades would be ineffective, as Spartacus would be moving too close to him to use them effectively. Gunfire had also showed little success, but they were his best bet. He drew two handguns and opened fire at the chest plate again. His shots were unfocused as everything around him remained blurred from the blast. A few bullets struck Spartacus, but as before their effect was minimal. Mathias fired on anyway, even as Spartacus charged forward with horrifying agility and pinned him to the ground.
Mathias screamed as a seething pain burned through his stomach. The agony that came from Spartacus’ sickle claws digging into his abdomen was enough to jar him from his disorientation. The weight of the machine crushing down on him was too much and he almost passed out. His eyes opened after wincing and he saw the glowing red eye just inches from his face. He was close enough now to hear the soft hum of the machine’s power source, though he could not pinpoint it. All he could see was that damned eye, staring at him with the apathy of a soulless killing machine.
Spartacus shifted, digging its claws deeper into Mathias and wrenching into his intestines. Mathias cried out, but refused to surrender to the machine just yet. By shifting, it had freed his right arm that was pinned down. His hand felt across his torso for anything he could use to dispatch of the assassin. At last his fingers graced a dagger, the one Mathias had kept close to his heart, that had become a symbol he carried with him from the time he first left home to become a bounty hunter. It wasn’t much, but if this was his only chance he would take it.
He jerked the dagger from its small sheath and with a shout he thrust it upward at the machine’s head. The dagger caught Spartacus just below its eye and ran upwards, cutting through the glass and destroying its vision. Spartacus released a whining scream as if it felt the pain of the glancing wound that Mathias had inflicted and pulled itself away, splashing blood from Mathias’ mangled abdomen across the courtyard. The felled king tried to prop himself up while he watched Spartacus writhe on the ground, the light behind its eye flickering on and off. The hit was true, and though he had not destroyed the assassin, he had stopped it.
His victory was short lived. As Spartacus struggled to regain its senses, the two walls keeping the invading army at bay crumbled apart and dissolved into fine sand that spilled down into the courtyard. From the other side, Mathias saw the Opal King’s army standing at the ready. They waited behind while two other figures stepped across the threshold into the courtyard. The first he recognized to be the Creator, who upon spotting Mathias decided to keep his distance and waited at the edge of the wall’s remains. The other man he did not know, but something about his sharp dress and unnatural long, white hair identified him to Mathias as a villain.
Mr. White approached Mathias unafraid, noting that the king had been mortally wounded and would not rise again. He turned his head at the sound of the mechanical screaming coming from Spartacus. His face betrayed no emotion at the sight of his bodyguard writhing in its own disorientation, and instead he ignored it and approached Mathias.
“I must say I’m impressed, bounty hunter,” said Mr. White. “Since the day of its creation, no one has ever wounded Spartacus enough to stop it from completing its task. You should feel honored.”
“I sure do,” Mathias said, holding his hand against his exposed insides. “You must be pretty proud of that abomination.”
“I see it still fulfilled its purpose,” Mr. White said. “I was hoping it would catch up with you. It’s rather fitting that Spartacus should be the one to kill you.”
“Yeah?” Why’s that?” asked Mathias.
“Because although I’m the one who designed Spartacus, it was built by Sinnesloschen Enterprises, a company that had been run by the father of a friend of mine you might remember from your time in Kyoto: Friedrich Gien. You killed him, if you remember, the night Adam Evans fought against the embodiment of his anger.”
Mathias coughed up a small amount of blood that trickled down his chin. “Oh, yeah, the guy with the scar over his eye. Well, looks like your metal friend’s got one to match now. How’s that for fitting?”
Mr. White scowled and walked closer to Mathias. When he was in front of him, he lifted up his foot and stamped down on Mathias’ midsection. Mathias howled in agony while Mr. White glared at him. Behind them, the Creator looked away.
“Friedrich was the only other person in the world who understood what it was like to have the person he admired the most taken away from him by Adam Evans,” Mr. White said with venom in his voice. “He may have been a fool for trying to take that vengeance himself, but he deserves more respect than you give him, bounty hunter.”
“So is that was this was all about?” Mathias said, choking on his words as pain seized him. “Destroying my city, killing innocent people and all of my soldiers, to get back for me killing that guy? That’s the most petty thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Mr. White. “Laying waste to this city and avenging Gien was just a happy coincidence, part of a grander plan to destroy Adam Evans’ spirit. Now the fall of Leapador is on his hands as well as the other losses in life he failed to prevent, and his anguish will continue to compound as I drive him further into a world of misery.”
“I take it back,” said Mathias. “That’s the most petty thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You have no right to judge me, bounty hunter,” Mr. White said, shaking his foot to flick as much blood from his shoe as he could. “I am entirely justified in my actions.”
“You’re starting to sound like another big headed jackass I know,” Mathias said, looking past Mr. White to the silent deity standing behind them. Mathias called out to him. “I suppose you’re alright with this? Still doing the most good, are you?”
The Creator said nothing and avoided Mathias’ piercing glare. The outburst had called upon much of Mathias’ waning strength and he could no longer keep himself propped up. He fell to the ground, staring straight upward at the wide open sky. Mr. White moved around to obscure his view, casting a proud look down at the dying man.
“You wasted your life protecting him,” said Mr. White. “Now nothing awaits you but darkness.”
“I didn’t waste anything,” Mathias said. “I made up for the mistakes I made. I helped people who needed help and saved them from the wickedness of evil men. And tonight I gave those two just a little more time to get away. I did some good with my life. Can you say the same?”
Mr. White sneered at him and prepared to craft a response, but he was not able to. Just then, Mathias’ eyes fell shut and the fingers which tightly clutched his dagger fell limp. A strange kind of peace came over his face, and with that he was gone. The sudden departure of his spirit spurned Mr. White, who was unable to have the last word. He scoffed and left the body behind, happy that he had at least gotten some revenge for Gien and dealt another blow to Adam’s psyche. Mr. White approached the Creator, who didn’t acknowledge him.
“Where are Adam Evans and the girl?” he asked.
“They’ve fled through a back entrance of the castle that’s since been closed,” the Creator answered eventually. “They’re shepherding the people of Wensfell away from the city to safety.”
“Interesting,” said Mr. White. “What do they benefit from doing that?”
“They don’t benefit at all,” the Creator affirmed. “They’re just trying to help those people.”
&nb
sp; Mr. White laughed. “Well that’s cute. If they want to waste their time, far be it from me to stop them. Our job’s done here.” He passed the Creator and stood before the Opal King’s army.
“Rejoice! The treacherous King of Leapador, Mathias Silvos, is dead!” A round of cheers erupted from the soldiers, raising their weapons and beating swords against shields like drums. “The enemies of His Holiness, the Creator Most High, are no longer safe in the hands of such a man. Even now they flee from this land, but they will not remain free for long. In the name of the Opal King, I claim the Kingdom of Leapador and establish it as a satellite state where no enemy of Aeris will be safe.”
More celebration came from the army while the Creator felt sickened. Mr. White carried on. “The battle is done, so take your rest and secure this capital as your own. Dismiss the former occupants, as they are now subjects of the Opal King. As for Adam Evans and Diatyallah Gatti, know that swift justice is closing in upon them and they will soon pay for their crimes against the highest order.”
Mr. White raised his hands up in a grand fashion, the actions of a true politician. He turned from the energized army and returned to the Creator. “There’s no sense in having those soldiers pursue the civilians of Wensfell; they’re no threat. This defeat was enough to inflict upon Adam Evans for now, so let’s rest for a while and let him reflect on his continued failure as a man.”
“Do you honestly believe you’re justified in all of this?” the Creator asked, not bothering to look up.
“Oh, don’t carry on like that bounty hunter, Daniel,” said Mr. White. “It’s unbecoming of you.”
“I’m serious,” said the Creator. “Iilil-ja killed one man in your life and you think you’re justified to cause all of this senseless devastation for that? For some nefarious criminal degenerate?”
A rare rage seized Mr. White. “Don’t you dare speak of him with such indignation!” The Creator was unfazed by the break in his otherwise cool character, which Mr. White corrected after a few cleansing breaths. “Are you any more justified for helping me, just to reclaim that woman? What good is she, that treacherous witch? She’s hardly worth it. I’m avenging the greatest loss I’ve ever known.”
Fallout (Tales of the Other Universe Book 2) Page 28