by Tyson Jordan
“You know why.”
“Oh, so you know, then? You know I’ve switched to the winning side?” Janus gave a shrug as he smiled, and I felt my jaw clench. My chronopatch crackled, and I could faintly hear Argenta’s voice. I did not need to hear her words to know her command.
“I know, yeah.”
“Are you going to kill me, then, big guy? Are you going to show me what that ridiculous sword of yours can do to a skinny little guy like me?” Janus laughed loudly, and my muscles tensed.
“I know what I’m supposed to do.” I spoke in a low and thick voice, and Janus grinned madly, fully exposing his white, pointed teeth.
“Oh, what you’re supposed to do? That’s a nice euphemism for it. I suppose that’s the one thing the Guild is good for, you know? Producing platitudes, pleasantries, and propaganda, I mean.”
I said nothing, and held Demonbite before me in a low guard. The Ocean Dweller had not moved, and carried on speaking with a smile on his face. Argenta’s words continued to crackle urgently.
“You know, that Guild propaganda really is something else. They convince so many people that, what, ten million Sentries can fight the good fight? That they can still actually win this?”
I said nothing, but my face did not hide my fury at his words. Janus laughed loudly once more.
“I mean, you’re not much for math, Zircon, or thinking in general. But even you can appreciate these numbers. How does ten million compare to infinity? Those are the odds you’re facing, you know.” He reached to his side, withdrawing a long and thin dagger from its sheath.
“I will fight all the same. I will never stop,” I replied in a tight voice, and my old friend rolled his eyes.
“Is that you talking? Or is that your dear dead daddy? That’s rhetorical, by the way—truth be told, Zircon, you’re not cut out for this at all. You’re scared, you’re weak, and deep down inside you have to know what an outrageous disappointment you must be to him, even as he burns in hell forever.”
“Shut up.” I leaned forward, my stance growing more aggressive, and Janus continued laughing all the same. I began seething, and I no longer saw my old friend standing before me, but Nyrvanna.
“I mean, if Cobalt the Conqueror couldn’t survive this, then what chance do you have? What chance do any of you have? That brings us back to the whole question of odds, right? That brings us back to the simple truth that every last one of you is going to die miserably, and there isn’t a single thing that you or your pathetic Guild can do to stop us.” With Janus’s hand, Nyrvanna held the dagger before him, beckoning me. I gave her the answer she desired.
“I said shut up!” I charged forward, and suddenly Janus’s dagger was curving elegantly towards my face. I raised Demonbite clumsily to deflect the blow, and felt the Ocean Dweller’s foot drive into my abdomen in response. I staggered backward, struggling to breathe as I watched his slow approach, and I raised my sword again.
He was a fearsome opponent, and in spite of his slight frame and small stature, he moved with a liquid grace and speed that I could not match. With every blow I parried or dodged, there was another waiting for me well in advance, and I understood immediately that the afflicted Ocean Dweller was revelling in my pain, hoping to torment me further. I felt the heat of his blade across my cheek and my face filled with ominous warmth.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of me! What, are you afraid to kill me? Are you afraid to gather up all that lightning and blow me to smouldering bits like you did with that Gamma before?” His laughter was incessant and maddening, and even though I knew his words were not truly his, the sound of Janus’s voice gave them awful authenticity all the same.
“Come on! Cut me! I have plenty of scars, you know! What’s one more for the collection?” Janus rained more blows down upon me, and I could not parry all of them. He struck me in the face where I had been cut, and the dim lighting of the sewer burst into painful brilliance.
“Are you scared again? Are you scared to disappoint your dead daddy?” He laughed again, readying a killing thrust meant for my abdomen. My eyes opened wide in pain and rage.
“Enough!” I bellowed, and the sewer reverberated with my cry. The dagger was coming for me, masked in the sound of my enthralled friend’s laughter, and I did not shy from its path. My left hand rose instinctively, guarding my stomach, and the blade pierced the flesh of my palm, exiting through the other side between the plates of armour, but I did not succumb. With my free hand I relinquished my sword and drew my fist back, and I saw a moment of fearful comprehension in Janus’s red eyes as I pushed forward, driving my fist into the side of his head.
There was a resounding crack as metal met flesh and bone, and his head jerked abruptly to one side before striking the concrete of the sewer wall. There was another crack, and he fell to the floor, the thin blood of an Ocean Dweller trickling slowly from the wound. His armour retracted and he lay before me, exposed and barely breathing.
My left hand pulsed with fire, and with a clean jerk I freed Janus’s dagger from my palm, feeling a sudden surge of hot blood run free to the floor. I retrieved Demonbite immediately, holding it high above my head with my functional hand, looking down at the small and even frail body of my friend. I could hear the voice of my father’s demands in my mind, yet I could not ready the plunge.
“Once again, you are in need of medical attention.” From further down the tunnel, Argenta approached, her sword and armour wet with the black blood of her enemies. She was unhurt but nonetheless exhausted, and did not feign otherwise.
“The charges have been planted, just as we discussed. We can make our exit near here; I have already signalled for assistance.” Argenta pointed down the tunnel, past the hewn bodies of the Malinvicta I had killed earlier, and sure enough, there was a simple ladder protruding from the wall.
“As for Janus?” My eyes did not move from the unconscious form of my friend, and I felt a pang of guilt at the sight of him. The grip on my sword loosened, and I looked at the red Sentry pleadingly.
“Obviously we will take him with us. He may be able to provide us with useful information in his current state, regardless of Ferric’s views on the matter.” She sheathed her sword decisively then, and for the first time, I felt truly grateful to her. Argenta knelt down and gently slung Janus over her shoulder, bidding me to lead the way to the ladder.
We made our exit far from the burgeoning hovels of the Teem and stood on an abandoned street near the endless blue of the ocean. A cold, salty wind blew towards us and I gratefully let the air fill my lungs, replacing the foul, dank air of the sewer. Behind us, I could hear a loud and crude engine grinding, and I turned to see a personnel carrier vibrating impatiently. Osmium sat at the controls, his head tightly wrapped in bloody bandages, and he beckoned.
We drove quickly, and every crack and bump in the road, if it could be called that, made me wince. I looked down at my hand, impaled and useless, and grimaced at the thought of Ceres treating yet another of my wounds. Argenta had retracted her armour, revealing only a few bruises and a pronounced gash in her upper arm, and she explained, “There were Alphas in my tunnel, and too many of them. Improvement is necessary.”
She examined her chronopatch intently, taking note of the small hologram that appeared before her face before turning, taking note of our distance from the pyramid. We grew ever further from the confines of the Teem as we approached the glowing towers of Anion. Osmium nodded breathlessly, the pain of his injuries having robbed him of his voice, and Argenta activated the detonator.
I stared back at the pyramid in anticipation and saw sudden plumes of fire erupt from the streets on either side of it, hearing low bursts carry on the air. The columns of flame continued, spreading rapidly in two directions from either side of the manufacturing facility, hurling chunks of rock high into the air that were followed by thick pillars of smoke, black and toxic.
The facility remained standing, resolute in the face of our attempt, and I had no meaningful repl
y. Argenta seemed unfazed, however. She gave me a knowing look, and I realised that my anger was premature. There was a sudden rumbling in the earth beneath the carrier, and Osmium gripped the wheel tightly, cursing as the rumbling grew louder. My eyes fixed on the road beneath us as it began to fracture, and Osmium accelerated in response.
The fractures became fissures and the rumbling grew to quaking, heaving the carrier from side to side. I noticed Janus’s still-unconscious body and was grateful to see that the restraints held him in place. Another quake followed, this one rendered less severe by the distance we had put between us and the pyramid, and I looked back once more.
It was sinking. The sounds of twisting steel and shattering glass filled the air as the pyramid crumbled, no longer supported by the earth below. The structure turned nearly lopsided as it fell, and an entire wall began to break away and slide under the strain, revealing small bursts of electrical light as the facility’s innards were laid bare, exposing torn wires and broken support beams. Its descent continued, and suddenly a blinding surge of orange light emerged. The heat of the explosion could be felt almost immediately, and the broken pyramid was encased in flame, screaming towards oblivion as black smoke billowed into the sky.
A torrent of seawater poured in from all sides, submerging the last of the bedrock and assaulting the flames, turning to steam before their heat. The quaking slowed, then stopped, and I could not help but stare at what we had done, my mouth agape and my eyes wide.
The driver had nothing to say to the collapse of the pyramid, and wore a stern expression. As the carrier jostled and bounced, he drew in a sharp breath and remarked, “I’m done.”
We arrived at the Bastion and he exited the carrier alone, disappearing soon after, and left us to tend to our fallen friend.
40
Uproot
“As you can no doubt see, the Mirakind manufacturing facility was destroyed in accordance with our plan. The reagent can no longer be produced on the same massive scale, at least for the moment.” Argenta reported to Ferric as we sat in the medical bay, letting Ceres tend wordlessly to our wounds. My left hand still throbbed painfully, but the tissues had nonetheless been knitted together neatly and only a faint scar remained as a visual reminder of what Nyrvanna had done by Janus’s hand.
“This is acceptable,” Ferric began, his voice terse, “and yet you returned with the unconscious form of Sentry Janus Baskervor in tow. Why was he not executed? Why did you bring him here?” Ferric’s eyes fell on me, and I frowned at him.
“I couldn’t kill him,” I finally replied, thinking of my friend and Gareem’s request.
Ferric snapped, “That much is obvious! You disobeyed a direct order and in doing so, you have endangered yourself and your comrades yet again!”
“He did it because I asked him to.” The medical bay doors opened and Gareem stepped forward. He was weary, more so than usual, but this did not slow him as he approached Ferric.
“Guild Sentinel Gareem Baskervor, you have no right to subvert my authority in this matter!” Ferric’s sharp tongue had turned furious, and I looked on in impressed silence.
“So what’s your point? I don’t see any other engineers around here, do you? You can’t get rid of me—God, I should be so lucky!” Gareem chuckled, shaking his head. Our commander looked on in silent contempt for the situation.
“I asked Zircon to bring my boy back to me,” the engineer continued, and I saw Ferric’s eyes flare slightly, “because I don’t want to let him go so easily. You know who I am, and, more importantly, you know who my older brother, Tahiq, was and what he did in his time. So why not let me give it a try?” I did not know his meaning, although the Guild Centurion begrudgingly agreed. Gareem bade us to follow him.
We entered the small examination bay where we had restrained Janus, his arms and ankles bound tightly. He had regained consciousness, although his hair was matted with dried blood, and he spat at me as I walked towards him. The others followed soon after, and we stood around the medical table in silence.
“So, are you here to kill me? You’re here to kill your little friend at last? Why didn’t you do it in the sewers? Was it so important that the Ocean Dweller’s uncle be here to watch him die?” Janus grinned as his eyes flashed in my direction.
“That’s enough noise for now, you whore.” Gareem stepped forward and placed his palm on Janus’s forehead, splaying his four fingers out as he pushed back.
Janus let out a confused whimper and demanded, “What are you doing?”
“My family name, that is to say, my bloodline, is Baskervor, but then, you should already know that from the time you’ve spent rooting around in my kid’s head. Do you understand what that means?” Gareem smiled dangerously.
“It meant something thousands of years ago! No more!” There was a surge of panic in my friend’s face, and I stared in confused anticipation.
“Oh, it still means something today, don’t you worry. I’m happy to show you—my older brother was the Herald, and I was just his Ward, but uprooting a festering bitch like you should be entertaining. Nostalgic, even.” Gareem was curiously calm. He turned to me and said, “This works better if I can take someone with me, especially if he’s a friend.”
“Yeah, of course, but … what do I do?” I asked, needing to know more. The grizzled engineer bade me to place my hand on Janus’s shoulder, and I held it firmly in place. My friend scowled at me, but I would not release my grip.
“Like I was saying, I was the Ward for my older brother, Tahiq, and we served our Lord Drakannas for decades.” Gareem’s tone grew severe, and he reached forward with his free hand, clasping the other on Janus’s head. The air grew thick and warm, and I struggled to breathe, feeling some shadowy force filling the room and threatening to strangle me. I suddenly thought of the dark man in the clearing. Janus’s eyes rolled back into their head as the pressure built, leaving my ears ringing as the table and walls began vibrating, pulsing rhythmically.
I looked at my hand as it gripped Janus’s shoulder, and screamed as it turned from liquid to solid to liquid again, my fingers melting together and splitting again into dozens of curved appendages the length of my arm. I felt no pain, even as the pulse intensified, and behind me I could see Argenta and Ferric, speaking to one another in silence even as their bodies warped and melted together, only to split apart again. There was no meaningful difference between floor, wall, and ceiling, and the lights above were robbed of their constancy, spewing bursts of white fog that crackled and exploded near my face.
Gareem was the singular constant in all of this, and I focused my gaze on his unchanging form as he stared intently at his nephew, silently. In preparation, he drew a sharp breath and the pulsing and rhythm converged on him. Through the sleeves of his jacket, a cool blue light emerged, glowing softly and growing in intensity, revealing the simple runic characters of a long-forgotten language. I recognised them immediately. They were the same runes found on my father’s headband.
I faced Janus, whose eyes darted madly in all directions as he began convulsing, groaning and drifting in and out of consciousness. Gareem’s eyes narrowed and he pushed harder on Janus’s head, driving his face towards the ceiling. The thrumming in the walls and floor unified and intensified, growing in pitch, and I could see the face of my friend relax as he fell into silence.
His red eyes came back into view, but then darkened, revealing twin pools of impenetrable blackness that did not reflect any light. The blackness began to pour out of his eyes, running down his face in thick, endless gouts that covered his chest and began to pool around my feet. The tormented screaming of a woman bubbled in the blackness. I stared into the darkness of his eyes, feeling sudden gravity, and resisted their pull. Gareem commanded, “Don’t fight it,” and I tried to relax as I was pulled in, suddenly embraced by freefall.
I struggled to keep my eyes open as I fell into the darkness, suddenly alone, as I saw disjointed fragments of colour and form. A sudden flurry of neurons w
ashed over my body, glittering with electrical light that soon glinted like moonlight on the ocean. I fell towards black water, feeling no pain as I struck its surface, and stood breathlessly at the sight of a lonely beach, deep green under the light of a blue moon and stars above.
There was a house that stood crooked on the beach, small and shabby, that had nearly fallen into ruin. Its windows were dark, yet I knew there were people inside it. The door swung wide and I saw an Ocean Dweller, small and too thin, burst from the house, crying as he clutched his bloody arms and chest. He ran from the house as fast as he could, screaming out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
There was only the anguished cry of an unseen woman that followed as she pleaded, “Janus!”
The boy hesitated at the sound of his name, and I began walking towards him, struggling through the weight of the water. He looked back at the house, suddenly so far away, and continued to run, sobbing. He ran for the water’s edge, towards me, and I called his name.
The child looked at me, his eyes bright, and he approached with his bloody hands stretched towards me. I ran for him in turn, but the water between us turned thick and vile, bubbling blackly and turning into a quagmire as it threatened to separate us. Beneath the surface of the mire, I could hear the pained screams of a woman that intensified as the light of the moon shone down.
The swamp thickened with my every step, and the moonlight above was swallowed up by the murky blackness. Janus looked down at the waters around him as I called to him once more, and his approach slowed. Unafraid, he extended his hand to me as the waters around him began to heave erratically. I pushed forward with my arms outstretched, my legs barely pushing through the filth of the bog, and grasped his hand at last.
Janus smiled broadly at me, then looked down once more. The woman’s cries had crossed from painful to demented and unintelligible, and the water surged all around us. My first instinct was to cry out for Gareem to remove us from that accursed place, but my friend shook his head and pointed down into the gurgling waters, beckoning me to follow. I protested, but he would not move, and the swamp surged once more, triumphant at last as it consumed us.