by Marc Mulero
The sounds from the slaughter taking place were no longer muffled.
Vleece looked back at the pensive crowd at her side. “Well now, I say we don’t waste the element of surprise.”
Lesh dashed head-on into the pyrotechnics that lit the colossal Dome. Quick feet slid under an eruption of bullets and then sprung upright to pivot around fumbling soldiers, all while she assessed the danger and opportunity, all within seconds. That’s all the time they had.
Heat from nearby blasts seared uncomfortably close. Bodies on the foreground beyond dropped from the marksmen firing overhead, like blood-ridden puppets tangled in string.
Naples Sins had marched into hell with the Hiezers as their reapers, proving time and time again that exiled life was worth nothing. Culling was always the answer for black and gold. But not everyone accepted this so blindly.
The terrain was instantly mapped into Lesh’s mind – two uneven, rocky ramps framing either end like mountainside roads. They led high into cliffs above the flatlands and merged into an elevated bridge – a one row gladiator’s arena where instead of an audience, there were snipers… a lot of them. And beyond the intersecting points of the ramp, past the arena, far ahead, dawned a sleek castle-esque fortress.
Threat assessment came next for the assassin. Hiezer guards charging the forefront were already being contested. It was the snipers framing the high ground that caused the most lethal, uninterrupted damage, and it was something that had to change.
Lesh flipped onto the base of the ramp leading to one of the cliffs, where she found endless Hiezer marksmen flooding her path. Each aimed like they were in their own bell tower, their own world. Somehow, through all of this, Lesh saw rebellion fire behind their masks – like they, the Hiezers left here, had been abandoned too.
No matter though. Their sins were far more deserving of atonement.
Momentum kept on with two steps up a rock wall, then a crunch under her feet as she pushed off hard into upside-down flight. Out came the quills of an untamed animal soaring to stop them.
Two stabs and the tap tap tap of quick footsteps.
“Too slow.” She grabbed the hilt of the blade lodged in the target’s abdomen, kicked away the rifle swinging to find her and stabbed through a layer of leather protecting his neck. The bloodied knife was ripped out and tossed again on a rotating path onward, tethering the assassin to her next target.
Not far behind, Templos Rogue Volt Units made their way into the Dome alongside Senation fighters. Leading their forces was Coe, who snapped his fingers overhead and, in an instant, monstrous contraptions of shining silver were aimed upward toward each cliff.
The two units leaned back, leveled their aim to obtain perfect elevated trajectory, and let ‘em rip. Stringed harpoons reminiscent of the hunter’s weapons whistled through the air – metallic points splitting en route before finding rock creases. For a moment, it looked as though they’d missed their marks entirely. But when the netting dispersed between points lodged tightly in place, a second trigger activated electricity that spanned over the Hiezer snipers like a cage. White currents streaked sporadically as the Rogues turned knobs on their armaments, increasing voltage to deadly levels. Within seconds, the battlefield had shifted. A sniper ceasefire gave the horde below a welcomed breath of life.
A spark zapped the back of Lesh’s neck, making her wince before she instinctively dropped to the floor like an alerted cat. Hands and feet kept her torso hovering, then another zap sent tingles up her leg, making it tremble violently before going limp.
The miniature electrical storm continued teeming overhead with lightning forking down so frequently that it seemed almost impossible to avoid.
Templos and their fucking toys… Her thoughts echoed those of the Hiezers. One touch and I’m fried.
Now reduced to the strength of only her upper body, she inched onward, one arm over the other, shifting, stopping, rolling to avoid bolts that were like timed explosives.
She heard the scream of a Hiezer guard who mistakenly backed into the sparking net, then felt the whoosh of his body fly just over her head. Eyes widened when she realized another searing arm was reaching to rake her into the current, and a quick roll in the other direction kept her free.
That was it, she decided, and a quick kick-up bounced Lesh back onto her feet and into an instant hurdle over the next flailing conductor.
One foot was still numb, but she didn’t have time to even consider it because the space was becoming tighter, deadlier by the second. She then spun to narrowly avoid another set of conductive hands before being forced to flip high, inches from the net, to bypass the last of them. She landed among a sea of twitching bodies, detained enemies, to finally see an end to this pulsating nightmare of a web before springing away.
Once free, she glanced over the cliff’s edge to gauge which direction the winds of war were swaying. Good, she thought, because despite being outnumbered four-to-one and counting, Drino, the Rogue overseers, and their respective squads were somehow forestalling the inevitable, maybe even defying it.
What was left of the Sin soldiers trudged over the pile of bodies like they were lifting their boots from deep snow. Despite the grimness, because of it rather, they were fearless to avenge, carrying weapons aimed high to enter a firefight with the bridged soldiers overhead.
Amid fire and blood, she pinpointed Jayce - the flashy Rogue overseer – swerving around soldiers like a matador would a bull, emerging to flex his arm straight, long harpoon poking out of his contraption, edge aimed pointblank at a guard’s chest. Clink. The spear loosed and was swallowed by his target, flinging her into a group of others that made a crash like armored bowling pins. Then, with satisfaction and a smirk, he flicked his finger, igniting the attached string which acted as a long fuse to dynamite. The wire went up in flame like tissue paper, leading all the way to the combustible point to set the lot of them ablaze.
“Perfect,” he mouthed, before ripping another spear from under his half-cloak and taking aim for more.
In came Coe, weaving past in the other direction, javelins of pure electricity emitted from his metallic arm, creating a surge in his pathway from the intensity. Bolts crossed to the opposing side. The more Hiezers bunched up the better, for each shockwave forked to jolt the enemy by the dozens. He fired again, and again to overwhelm the masses.
As the battle intensified, Vleece stomped forward within the Sin ranks and swung her massive hammer, bludgeoning guards that dare stood in her way. If there were an equal to Wes Howard, it was her. Bullets clanged against her mallet while she smashed it down upon a fallen Hiezer, and when she lifted it, the body twitched like a crushed insect.
The chaos of war allowed for a thousand actions to be snap-shot in a second, and that’s what this was - Lesh observing all of it in a heartbeat. Curt nods of approval like she was checking off boxes in an inspection. On her gaze went, lifted, to the cliff opposite hers.
Good, she thought, more of the same.
Endless Hiezers encased in that same pulsing net, some convulsing from the electrical field and others cowering to dodge death.
It’s all coming you morons, don’t try to escape it.
Then her thoughts froze, her heart skipped.
No. Volaina was one of them, lying prone, about to be overwhelmed by Rogue storm or Hiezer bullet. Silenced rifle fire shut down each writhing body that aimed to end her, but she had already looked defeated. She looked like death already claimed her.
Fuck… she’s dead in the water.
Short of flying, she had no way to get to her… no way to save her.
I knew that asshole had a death wish. Maybe with one of these sniper rifles I can-
The assassin’s attention was abruptly stolen by Hiezer rocket wielders hurrying for the bridge. A line of them positioned their launchers over the ledge like clockwork. Then, on cue, they lit the battlefield in the worst way. More fire and blood. A once promising scene, order in the form of rebellion, was once again reduce
d to a hopeless scramble.
She shook her head. All in five seconds, an eternity in war.
Everything seemed lost again, leaving Lesh at an impassable crossroads. On the one hand was her dedication, devotion to victory. Pride. Passed the netting and on to the bridge, where she would not only disarm them, but slit all of their throats for good measure. But on the other was logic, the noble decision, intelligence, to tug her back, knowing she would have to be the one to call a retreat and save the lives that would otherwise be lost.
“Shit!” She slammed her fist on the ground and flipped up to her feet. With longing eyes, she reluctantly bounded back toward the entrance, cursing and weaving all the way.
The assassin grabbed her radio and announced, “We have to retreat… there’s no other way.”
The Neraphis aircraft was state-of-the-art with its own archaic gothic design, but this was no time to admire. Blague braced against a window with anxious hands, watching flare-ups within the Dome below like he was witnessing the earth’s storms from outer space. His heart wrenched with each flash, knowing there was a battle with Sins lives on the line without him. It felt wrong. He felt homesick. Not for his grounds, but for his people. And when Felicity had burst into the training chamber to give news of the ambush, the only words that repeated in his mind were: deserter, betrayer, abandoner.
The jet traced the Dome’s entrance, dipping low to drop the scantly, yet invaluable reinforcements into a losing battle. Guilt drove Blague to pound the exit ramp switch while still in flight, and soon after was greeted by winds that blew him a few steps back. With a hand blocking the rush of air, he eyed blurred grounds closing in fast below. Then out he leapt, smashing down into a somersault, back on to his feet, and on a straight path into the tunnel. His new Neraphis allies dropped down to join at his sides, leaving the borrowed pilot to flee the scene and retreat back into the sky.
“You heard the intelligence that was compiled on the way here,” Aslock said. “Your people are under attack, both here and your headquarters… diverting all resources homebound would be wise.”
“We are hours away. The fate of our Senation base will be sealed long before. I must trust in the commanders left to keep watch.”
Aslock bowed his head in acceptance. “A bold leader not devoid of risk. I do hope fate is on your side.
“Listen, we have kept a close watch on the Galception Dome for some time, for it once housed the Hiezers’ most innovative research mechanisms, that is, before the retreat to Nepsys. It is a sturdy fortress that will withstand tsunami or quake for whomever holds it in the upcoming trials.”
“Alright then, help me capture it.” Blague quickened his sprint.
“Aslock, you talk too much, fellow Elder.” A Cryos trail suddenly traced down Valor’s legs like glowing spiderweb cracks, bolstering his speed, pushing him faster, farther than the others, through the tunnel and into the fray.
Aslock shook his head. “Godspeed to you both,” his voice trailed as he broke to one side of the cliff while Valor split to the other.
Then there was Blague, appearing as his Neraphis curtains parted, to rush head-on. He drew his Desert Eagle which had the same effect as lighting a war beacon. And when he roared to announce himself, to act as the largest war drum a battle had ever seen, familiar soldiers began to turn. Life breathed into battle once again.
Hiezers that had fled from the Rogue’s electric charges found only a worse fate in the form of the Sin Leader – he fired first in every instance, unfatigued, anxious, making his foes corpses before they could react.
And with this surprise came glory. Sin eyes perked up at the fantastic sight of their leader returning to carry the exiled banner. More heads turned and pumped fists rallied.
“Blague!” Drino shouted in his stentorian voice, which could have been mistaken for excitement, but was actually anything but. “Get dow-”
The blast of a faraway cannon soared from the enormous fortress and landed ten feet from the Sin Leader, sending him airborne before his body violently smashed against a rock wall. The brunt of the lethal blow was compounded by his dead-weighted descent onto the ground. As quick as he’d returned, he was gone.
Through gritted teeth and fearful tears, Volaina wrestled with a burly guard to keep his pistol from firing into her. A shriek spoke to her struggle, but both arms locked as the weapon fired. Her ears rang when the bullet shaved past, then a second, then a third, before she let go and unstrapped a pistol of her own, pumping the mountain of flesh with silenced bullets. His body fell forward to block out the umbrella of Templos lightning above them. Her back arched from the top-heavy guard’s weight, feeling the full burden of the Hiezers in that moment, and its toll of hot blood spilling over her abdomen. In her mind, she wanted to fall and let that be the end of it, but something kept her up. Something deep. Her heart still pumped Sin blood, and her mark still shined brightly. Through veins coursing with regret, she shrugged the body off and huffed to regain her breath. Upon seeing yet another Hiezer in agony, she lazily bent to re-equip her rifle and pointed it down. With a silent kick of her gun, another was put out of his misery.
Rogues catching their own allies in an electric web. A fate well deserved, I guess.
She aligned her eye with the scope of her silenced rifle, thinking that she owed it to those she loved to take out as many as possible before this battle claimed her. But even that was cut short. Right then, her weapon jerked up and out of her grasp before her neck whipped from a forceful kick in the back.
“Your physique looks familiar, ‘Caova,’” an acquainted voice resonated behind her. “So curious that you’ve been granted a second life. What a valiant Rogue murderer you were…”
Volaina twisted to fall onto her back. Eyes widened at the sight of the fearsome Hiezer general that she so graciously deceived just a short time before.
“I must thank you for helping me kill those young siblings. They were growing pests, after all,” General Trillus taunted with malice, tossing the Sin commander’s rifle far from her reach. “Unfortunately though, you ended the lives of my elites in the process. It seems you have much to pay for from both sides… I’m here to collect,” he said, drawing a short knife with a curved tip.
The Sin commander gasped and quickly scrambled to her feet while Trillus oppressively loomed over her, watching her like she was a rodent trying to escape a trap. Bolts of electricity sparked all around them, enclosing the two in a deadly arena.
The general removed his mask to reveal hideously pale, sunken features. “This time, we will both know who we’re fighting, Sin.”
Volaina felt her pulse drum throughout her body. Not him. Why him? Terror it seemed, was running rampant now, sucking the life out of her, creating a drought from within: her throat dried, joints locked up. This man ruined everything. A monster. He’s a demon. Watching Trillus inch forward with a justified smile was the final straw. It was to be a poetic death.
"Caova would have ripped me apart in hand-to-hand combat. But you, you don't stand a chance," he goaded before bum-rushing her.
Volaina raised her fists, bracing for the attack, but her fear subsided and her determination waned. She ducked the first fervent swing from the pale Hiezer, purely driven by instinct.
I've worn out my welcome with my decisions. I think it's time I accept my fate.
The Sin commander took a deep breath just when Trillus grappled her and wrapped his hands around her neck. "End it. I don't want to be here anymore," she whispered, her will to fight dissipating.
The general hesitated. “Never,” his face contorted with disgust… he was dismayed, awestruck by her candor, “have I heard a soldier speak in such… how did you fool me? This coward,” he jabbed the knife deep into the pit of her stomach, “fooled me!?”
She only smiled in return, eyes softened – because it wasn’t just blood that began to spout out, but her anxiety went with it, a sense of relief. Yes, she thought. Finally. She looked into the general’s eyes again, only
this time, differently. He wasn’t a demon. No. A savior.
"Spasiba," escaped her lips.
“Argh,” Trillus scoffed like he’d just got feces all over his hands, even more repulsed as he slid his knife to the left to enlarge the wound before dislodging it.
Volaina gasped again. Everything felt so numb… just pins and needles all around her midsection. She could feel the warmth leaving her, dripping down her legs, wet. Everything was wet. What was there left to do now but wait?
It’s not so bad. It’s not…
Her eyes rolled back into her head as she fell in dead weight.
He lingered for a moment, not because she was a formidable opponent, but because she had given up, after all of that.
“You’ll bleed out slow, bitch. It’ll be good for you, give you a chance to mull over all of the decisions that led you here. You’re welcome.”
Blague was thrust back into the winds like his soul had been sucked from his body. It felt as though two forms of him existed and he’d been bouncing back and forth between them. For some reason though, this one felt more final, like he’d truly been banished for good this time. A once powerful, ancient being walking among the youthful gave him the influence needed to lead a rebellion, and his brother, the wrath. But now he felt like a boy again. Lost, alone, confused, and without answers. The tornado gusts kicked up to prove how powerless he’d become, and his dying comrades were there to chant the truth of it.
Eugene’s withered face had long since dropped on to the gravel, the grip of his cold hand still tough around Blague’s arm. Tormented breathing filled Briggs’ lungs with blood. Eyes of the other fallen gazed disapprovingly upon their weakened spearhead - from Lesh, Volaina, and Lito, all of those who were torn apart by his choices.
The gusts teased by taking away his hearing and whispering words from beyond this dimension, a reminder from the wise Neraphis to “Forget all that you know.”