by Justin Sloan
Screw that.
A roar came from her lips as she reached for her sword, ready to charge forward and end his pathetic life. Only, none of that actually happened. The roar didn’t sound, her hand refused her command. Her body was frozen, and only then did she see the look in Hadrian’s eyes that told her he was sorry, but it was for the best.
He hadn’t put such control over her since the first time they had met several years ago. It had infuriated her back then, but now his actions took that anger to new levels. Her heart was beating so fast, the bile in her mouth so strong she wanted to spit, but she could do nothing, nothing but stand there, hands at her side, staring.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, old friend?” the Potentate asked, finally turning his attention away from Samantha and looking at Hadrian instead.
“Friend, is it?” Hadrian asked, beginning to pace the floor on his side of the room. He stopped to look up, his head at an angle so he could see the many screens displaying various corners of the world. Samantha could see them now too, though at first her focus on the Potentate had hidden them from her. “I seem to remember a time when we conversed as friends, but that was when you were still trying to do what was best for Earth, was it not?”
“How dare you?” The Potentate took two long strides toward Hadrian, voice hissing behind the mask. “How many times have I done this, sacrificing all I love over and over to try and save the world?”
“You have lost sight of that goal,” Hadrian replied. “I can see how that might be easy to do, when surrounded by such power.”
The two stared at each other for a long moment, long enough for Samantha to wonder at the words. How could the Potentate—the leader of the Syndicate armada that had laid waste to Earth—think he was trying to save the world? She began to understand why Hadrian had wanted her to see this. Clearly, there was more to the situation than could be seen at first glance.
“There is only one way to win, Hadrian,” the Potentate said, clearly enunciating each word as if explaining the situation to a child. “As an outsider, I’m sure it is hard to comprehend. We are helping them learn to survive. There is one force able to withstand the attack, or...” A flicker of doubt struck the man’s eyes. “The greatest chance, at any rate, lies on a uniform Syndicate. Until the humans can conquer us, what hope would they have against the greater foe?”
Hadrian shook his head. “You don’t understand, do you? This is it. There’s no going back, and every life you take from here… it’s real. Permanent.”
The Potentate nodded once, curtly, and then his head shifted at the sound of someone entering the room.
“We are ready,” a deep, angry voice said. “On your mark.”
The Potentate turned to Hadrian and smiled. “The weak shall become strong, or become no more.”
“Don’t do this,” Hadrian demanded, though his voice revealed his desperation.
“You won’t stop me. It’s against your ways. Isn’t that right?” With a nod, the Potentate said, “Make it so.”
The visitor with the angry voice spoke into a comms device of some sort, and then they all turned to the screens.
As Samantha watched, the monitor switched to a new view. Explosions filled the screen, revealing the fighting—mechs and drones and Syndicate soldiers against fighters, many appearing to be with the resistance. She watched as a mech rose up to battle the others, but was quickly destroyed. And then the resistance fighters were plowed down.
They were likely the members of the Last Remaining Resistance, the LRR. People she had once considered brothers and sisters in arms—until she’d left for the Shadow Corps.
But if this was what was happening on Earth while she was gone, what use was all of her work in the Shadow Corps?
She struggled to break free—or to just open her mouth to speak—but it was no good. It was terrible to watch, but she was helpless to look away. More were slaughtered, and then she realized what she was looking at. She saw the symbol in the background, the same one she had noticed on her way here—the pillar of some sort, at its top with the symbol of the snake eating itself.
That wasn’t so far away!
Her heart froze at the sight, her breath burning in her lungs and her heart beating in double-time. Someone had passed the camera, a face she had longed to see.
Dan.
There he was, fighting against those insurmountable odds. Likely about to die. All while she was expected to stand here and watch?
Hell no.
“Make it stop.” The words were hard to get out through her clenched teeth.
“This one needs to keep her mouth shut,” the voice from behind said. “Who is she, anyway?”
And then the figure stepped in front of her, trying to peer through her solid facemask. He couldn’t see her, but she damn well could see him. His name was Rane, and he had been there that day her mom thought she had died. He had been fighting them, trying to kill her mom, even. That son of a bitch deserved to die nearly as much as the Potentate did.
Rage boiled up inside her, but even more overpowering was the need to go save Dan. If she stayed here while this happened, even knowing the Potentate and Rane lived, she could never look at herself in the mirror again. The self-loathing would be too strong.
“GO TO HELL!” she shouted, again the words coming with a struggle. And then she blasted out of the spell, pushing against Hadrian’s power and moving for Rane. But a wave of energy came at her, like a wall between her and her enemies.
Hadrian, she thought. You know me too well.
She fought against the energy field as the Potentate and Rane stared at her in amusement, but the invisible wall held fast. Then her eyes returned to the screen, and there he was again—Dan.
This fight wasn’t worth it, not if she lost him in the process. Instead of resisting the wall Hadrian had erected in front of her, she let the energy push her back while at the same time adding to it, then flung herself through one of the large windows looking out at the city.
As she went, an image, like the air shimmering, caught her eye. A mental pain stabbed at her. One that, had she not been moving so fast, would likely have latched onto her and destroyed her.
Then she was gone, shooting out and toward the monument, eyes already targeting the location where she’d seen smoke rising in the air.
I’m coming, Dan, she thought, fists clenched, lightning already starting to shoot from her armor. And there isn’t anything that can stop me from reaching you.
10
Potentate’s Command Center
Furious eyes turned to Hadrian at Sam’s departure. That didn’t faze Hadrian, however.
What drew his attention was the flicker in the air that he had noticed just as Sam broke through his energy field—which in itself was amazing.
Hands outstretched, he latched onto all of the power in the room, freezing everyone in it as he had done with Samantha.
Except Samantha had been able to escape it, he thought. An interesting development, but there was not time to think of that now. He wanted to help Samantha, put a stop to whatever carnage the Potentate was about to unleash, but there was a larger mission here, with larger stakes. Whole worlds would be destroyed if he deviated from the plan. Didn’t she get that?
And now he had discovered the secret he had come for. The missing puzzle piece, he was fairly certain.
“Reveal yourself,” he demanded.
A scurrying sound echoed from the opposite side of the room, and Hadrian turned to see a man emerge. Only he wasn’t fully a man. His nude upper body appeared to be human, except for the black holes where eyes should have been, and the purple, glowing veins running out from those dark pits to cover his skin. His lower body, though, was nothing more than a metallic spider.
He laughed. “You may be able to reveal me with your spells, sorcerer, but you can’t hold me as you can them.” The horrible creature scurried over to the wall and climbed up along it so that he was perpendicular to Hadrian. Then he leaped.
Hadrian accepted the Scrapulent warrior’s challenge. It was immune to Hadrian’s latchings because of its power over the mind, and Hadrian was immune to the creature’s mind-manipulation. Two of their strongest powers canceled out.
But to even be this powerful, the Scrapulent had to be getting help. From where? How?
Hadrian realized it right after a fierce stab from one of the creature’s robotic legs. The shimmer he had seen, just as the creature appeared. It hadn’t been a cloaking device or an invisible person, or anything of the sort. It was a jump port!
Hadrian knew what he needed to do to obtain the necessary answers.
Summoning all his will, Hadrian called on the powers of those within him, of his friends and fellow warriors who had fallen and been absorbed into him. In an instant he was gone, then appeared on the other side of the Scrapulent, striking him with two blows to the kidneys, then leaping up and pulling energy from another world. Ice formed around the warrior’s spider legs as a gravitational field flung the creature into Hadrian’s outstretched arms.
A chokehold fit perfectly here. Hadrian curled his arm around the Scrapulent’s throat and held on tight, then kicked off. He latched now to the far side of the room, with the shimmer directly in their path. His powers that had held the others in place now released them, and the Potentate shouted for him to stop. But that was all Hadrian heard as he and the Scrapulent went through the portal.
With a quick motion of his hand, and a stronger focus on his power, Hadrian created a new portal in its place.
And then he was through, passing through realms he had never before visited, ones his subconscious recognized as worlds best avoided. Worlds that, before this war was over, the Shadow Corps would likely have to visit.
With a swoosh of darkness and an explosion of light, he went rolling across the ground.
Scurrying. Darkness. Nothingness.
He pushed himself to his feet and prepared for an attack, unable to see a thing, though his suit sensed a light breeze. He pulled his helmet back over his head, its lights illuminating the ground surrounding him, but nothing else.
More scurrying sounds, now growing faint.
Hadrian pulled out his sword, latched himself toward the direction of the sound, and flung himself forward into the darkness. Risk be damned, he’d come for answers, and was damn sure going to get them.
Samantha finally reached the edge of the chaos and charged in, full throttle. Her sword slashed through three drones on her way down. When a mech turned on her, attempting to hit her with a blast of rockets, she latched onto it, flew forward and out of harm’s way, and then slammed her shield into it. Electricity blasted out, shorting whatever powered the mech.
Next she turned and unslung her rifle as she dove for cover behind the fallen mech, letting out a series of blasts that took down several Syndicate warriors. LRR fighters were all around, some starting to break and run for it.
She sprinted for the nearest building, using her upgraded grip skills to run up it and then leap onto a nearby drone. From up there, she took out several more pursuing Syndicate warriors, then used her weight to send the drone crashing into one mech while she leaped to another. Landing lightly, she slammed her electrified sword into the mech’s top, taking out whoever was inside instantly—or destroying the robotics? She wasn’t sure. Some of the mechs had human drivers, others not. She wasn’t sure how the ones without operated.
Mechs and drones weren’t her target here, though. Dan was, and she had to ensure he was safe. Get him out of this death zone.
She turned and ran, jumping from building to building as she sprinted along the walls. She scouted the situation, eyes focused on finding him. An explosion went off nearby, then three drones were shot out of the sky. She followed the direction of the attack, and spotted several LRR fighters giving the enemy a run for their money.
And there was Dan.
They started cheering for some reason. Turning, she saw the Syndicate was pulling back. It didn’t make sense. There was no way the rebel group had the Syndicate army on the run. No way. She paused at the edge of this wall—hoping her grip would hold long enough—and she understood.
Get the LRR fighters out here, let them get organized, pull them together… and then destroy them.
Something was coming. She knew it.
A glance around her revealed the command center in the background. A bright flash burst into the sky. They were going to blow this place to bits, she realized, already running again, then leaping for Dan.
He had turned and was congratulating the man behind him on a fine shot. Then Samantha was there beside him, grabbing him by the waist and latching herself to a distant building. She knew her suit wouldn’t manage much more of this, but if there was ever a time to risk using up her energy, this was it.
The other rebels around Dan had barely noticed he was gone and were still cheering behind Samantha—some starting to give chase after what they thought was a retreating Syndicate—when the blast struck.
At first Samantha thought it was just her energy pushing them, but she was moving too fast. Her suit recognized the danger a second later and flashed warnings, and she was blasted forward. Bright light filled her display and the glass darkened to compensate, but then she hit the ground and was rolling across the earth, having lost track of Dan somewhere along the way.
She came to a stop and pushed herself up with a groan. Many of the LRR fighters were simply gone, and a huge crater lay in the ground where they had been mere moments before. At the outskirts of the blast, dozens of vehicles were in flames while just as many rested on their sides. Still more were steadily reaching the scene. Apparently, the LRR hadn’t all arrived yet. The Syndicate had struck prematurely.
There weren’t many, though. A handful of vehicles at most.
“Dan!” a female voice called, and then Samantha saw the woman approach, her blond hair in a ponytail. Ashley.
Leaping from the jeep, Ashley ran to a figure on the ground several feet behind Samantha. “You made it. How in the heavens?”
Sure enough, it was Dan she now held in her arms. He glanced around, bewildered, eyes passing by Samantha and lingering in a moment of confusion. More shots erupted at the blast site—the Syndicate returning to clean up the mess.
“We need to go!” someone else shouted from the jeep, and then Ashley and Dan were up and running.
Moments later they drove off, while a mixture of bullets and lasers pelted Samantha’s armor. Her mind only recognized it as minor annoyances in the grand scheme of things.
Dan was alive, and safe for now. But Samantha couldn’t stay here forever and see to it that he remained safe. And anyway, he had Ashely now.
At first she felt a dull numbness, followed by a crashing wave of fury at the world. And then Samantha was up, running at the mechs and the Syndicate warriors.
She slashed and shot and screamed. They weren’t going to succeed in wiping out the rebel fighters. Not if Samantha could help it.
Only when the second wave had fallen at her hand did she begin to calm down and pull herself together.
But this wasn’t her fight. If she wanted to deal the biggest blow to these bastards, she needed to be up with her team. Maybe being here at the right time to save Dan was all she was meant to do for now. A sign to remind herself who she was and who she wasn’t.
She certainly wasn’t the woman whose arms he would curl up in tonight.
And now that she thought about it, that was okay. Dan being alive was what mattered, but not because of any romantic notions. No, she was over that, she told herself.
At least, she soon would be.
What she wasn’t over was how many people had died here today. People who could have lived if Hadrian had just stepped in. If they had killed the Potentate and Rane when they’d had the chance.
Better late than never, she told herself as she moved into the shadows, maneuvering around the Syndicate force to work her way back to the command center. M
aybe if Hadrian was distracted, she could get in there and take out those bastards.
Forget what he said about waiting until her mom returned. How did that make sense anyway?
The thought came through with clarity, but then it was muddied by images she had seen. Darkness, blasts of light, her mom and the others she had traveled with moving through time, and then returning here at the exact right moment.
She realized it was true—her mom would come back, meet her on Earth, and they would fight together. And with that knowledge, she slowed her advance, thinking about her next move.
Hadrian was right. They had to find the intel they needed, then get out of here and put a stop to the true evil.
So, for now, her mission was to return to Hadrian, observing what she could while they completed their mission, and then be on their way.
11
Scrapulent Base
Hadrian was at a loss. No matter how far he flung himself, how high he flew or fast he ran, all that remained was the darkness. Constant scurrying and clicking, and a hissing sound. Images splashed through his mind of mandibles, acidic saliva, and black, eyeless holes.
This went on for the longest time, until the realization hit Hadrian—they were in his head. He of all beings should have been immune to this, but somehow they had managed to affect even his mind.
If this was the case—which he was now certain of—there was no telling how far they could get. How long had they had their hold on the Potentate?
The knowledge of what was happening gave Hadrian the power to escape it. He just needed to channel a part of him he didn’t often like to use, especially not at times like these. Instead of continuing forward, he took a step back, closed his eyes, and remembered.