by Hugo Damas
“I will teleport us inside so we may repeat history,” Morgana said.
“Hunter,” the Shadow greeted, and Morgana noticed the Hunter stare ahead in thought.
“Shadow,” she said, unimpressed.
The girl nodded and stood up. “The Shadow will once again be a part of the effort,” she announced, looking determined.
“The Hunter, too,” the Shadow simply said, looking a lot more doubtful than determined.
“Great. Touch me then, and we sh--” the Sorcerer was interrupted by a light low-volume snort. It was very surprising. She looked at the Shadow in confusion.
“Sorry,” the Shadow said, apologetically scratching the nostril she had just blown through. She timidly reached for the Sorcerer’s shoulder, “mask is a little dusty. Wanted to get that out before we go inside.”
Morgana twitched, curtailing her impatience.
“…very well. Close your eyes and be ready. Once inside, the Hunter will take the lead. Let us maintain absolute silence.”
“Okay,” the Shadow agreed.
“Understood,” the Hunter said.
They were an unlikely trio, but then again, the same would have been said about the original trio. However, the three of them were skilled in exactly the ways the mission demanded. Morgana was confident that, with her leadership, they would be successful.
Closing her eyes, Morgana focused and whispered the words. She was half-way done with it when an alarm erupted into the airs of the mist, making all three of them flinch in alert.
“What?!” The Shadow asked.
“We are not inside,” the Hunter pointed out, “it’s not us.”
“Who then?” The Shadow asked, “who else would dare to try? Or care, even?”
“Perhaps that ghastly man, the Circus Freak? I have heard he is insane,” Morgana suggested. Still, she stubbornly frowned and closed her eyes again. “It matters not, this is of benefit to us, no matter its cause.”
The Hunter looked on filled with even more doubt, but only the Shadow gave her worries voice. “How? With the alarms raised…”
“After what happened last time, and since no one is really left in this city to stand against them, I believe they were already under heavy guard. We need to take advantage of this event, and use it as a distraction.”
The Hunter again kept her thoughts to herself, glancing back at the apparent empty clearing that was a vessel to the Beasts.
“I suppose…” the Shadow said, half-heartily. “Though maybe…maybe we should back off.”
“What?” Morgana asked, her temper raising an annoyed eye.
“You are right, Sorcerer,” the Shadow said, unsure of herself. “They must be expecting us, on account of what happened last time.”
“You think it a coincidence they came back up just as the competition was underway?” Morgana asked. “There was no way the Shadow Conclave could know they would rise now, and there is no way the Beasts would know we would be here.
“Maybe there is,” the Shadow said, taking her hand off Sorcerer’s shoulder. “Maybe they wanted to come up now. To entrap us and end us, since we are their only threat.” Her eyes were trembling, betraying her fear.
“Your mind is clouded by fear, Shadow,” Morgana said grudgingly. “This is the prophecy being realized, the best of the Shadow Conclave--”
“We don’t know who that is,” the Shadow commented, rudely interrupting, betraying her age and lack of maturity. “The competition did not end.”
“It is us, us three.” Morgana had an idea just then that explained everything. “There is nothing in the words of the prophecy to suggest that the ‘best’ is one individual. It can be a group, as it was in the past.”
“It can also not,” the Shadow argued, carefully yet no less stubbornly. “It can also be another group.”
The Sorcerer raised an eyebrow. Clearly, she would not get through to her without fully explaining everything. Employing a commanding voice, she did just that.
“Shadow, give thought to the situation. Whether or not by their choice, the Beasts have risen during our competition, fully prepared for our infiltration. And yet, an unknown entity has found their own reasons, and methods, to infiltrate and alert them…thereby creating a distraction. This is by design, Shadow. This is fate.”
The Shadow looked aside at the Hunter, and the Hunter was still with her hand on Sorcerer’s shoulder, indirectly siding with her.
“Prophecy aside,” the Hunter’s voice surged, emotionless and a bit spent, “we should try to stop them.”
That finally seemed to strike the right nerve with the Shadow. She looked down in acceptance and sighed. “Yes…you are right.” She stepped closer and put her hand again on the Sorcerer’s shoulder.
With the sounds of alarms high and innervating, the Sorcerer focused her power and said the words. Then, in a blur of purple light, they were gone.
The Sorcerer was not prepared for how loud the alarm would be. At once, she knew she would be suffering a migraine come morning, and that immediately put her in a bad mood. On the other hand, silence was no longer such a necessity.
“Wow, that is loud,” the Shadow complained.
“All the more reason not to dally,” the Sorcerer agreed, “Hunter.”
The Hunter lifted a hand for them to wait and then closed her eyes. She even crouched.
Morgana glared at her dumbfounded. “What are you doing? We must move.”
The Hunter replied by raising a hand and gesturing at her to shut up. It was very near to a dismissal. It offended Morgana more than she would like to admit.
“What do you mean to be--”
“Ssh,” demanded the Shadow. “Let her do the thing,” she whispered.
“This is ridiculous,” the Sorcerer said, crossing her arms and nervously looking around, feeling utterly exposed and endangered.
Who could even concentrate in the midst of all that noise? The Sorcerer didn’t understand how but, after a minute or two, the Hunter did finally stand up and motioned at them to follow her.
The vessel was utterly packed with patrolling beasts. Almost every couple of minutes, they would have to hide or float in the air. How Hunter knew where she was going was beyond her, but there was little else to do than to trust the jungle woman, and her hunting sense.
They eventually reached a turn that led to a corridor that itself directed them to a door. Morgana had committed to memory every little detail of the original incursion, as had been related to her. Her predecessor had been thorough, and so she knew that past that door, the power stone awaited.
“Good job,” Morgana whispered. They had gotten there so fast.
Morgana didn’t know how the Hunter had done it, but she was far more useful than Dark Runner because of it. “Ok, you two get ready, I am uncertain of what expects us inside.”
“I think I know,” the Shadow said, exasperated, but placed a hand on her shoulder anyway. The Hunter quietly did the same. Morgana far preferred the Hunter.
The Sorcerer focused and pictured her staff, to summon its power.
They appeared in the room as the Sorcerer expected to, but she did not find what she had thought to find. Based on the descriptions she had received from her predecessor, she had teleported them right behind one of the panels they could use for cover. However, that wasn’t enough.
The room had a group of nearly twenty beasts standing guard so that every single inch of the room was under watch. Ten of them trailed the walls, five were on the ceiling with their foot-claws sunk to keep them in the air and upside down, and another five stood surrounding the pillar.
Only two of the beasts saw them, but that was two too many. They reacted immediately, as did the two girls. They both shivered, frightened.
“We’re dea--”
The Sorcerer did not allow the Shadow to finish the sentence, as that would allow both beasts to land their leaps right on top of them. She opened her arms to make sure she maintained contact with the two, lest they jer
k away, and teleported out of there.
Alas, teleportation was not an instantaneous thing, and as they materialized, she had the uncanny feeling that one of the beasts had reached her.
“…d. Oh!” The Shadow flinched out of contact and looked around startled and nervous. “Oh man, oh, ancestors! We need to run!”
“We need to stop them,” Morgana said, cringing, certainly feeling some sort of pain in her chest. “Ugh…we need to…Hunter, find the leader.”
Morgana wanted to reach for her chest and check, but she was too concerned about another beast appearing.
“Are you crazy?” The Shadow asked, her voice at a normal volume.
The Hunter ignored the Shadow and crouched, focusing.
“I am…committed,” Morgana answered, hard as it was. It was hard to breathe, as well.
The Shadow noticed. “What is wrong with you? Are you okay?”
The Sorcerer fell to a knee in response. “Ugh…I do not…” Begrudgingly, Morgana reached for her chest, where it hurt, and felt a noticeable dent. That scared her enough to send her mind racing to try and discern how fatal it could be.
I must be bleeding internally. But wait, if the beast hit me… if we were touching, how did it not teleport along with us? “I am fine.” Morgana forced herself to stand up and encourage them. “we must succeed, or the entire world will suffer grave consequen--”
The Hunter stood, calling their attention. She looked up, indicating the way to go. The Shadow grasped her head, breathing loudly and unevenly. She was on the brink of despair, it seemed.
“Okay. Okay sure, yes. Let us go.” The Shadow placed her hand on Morgana’s shoulder, as did the Hunter.
Morgana breathed in, which hurt, but she fought through the pain and teleported them over the ceiling.
They appeared in front of a beast. They realized that almost as quickly as the Sorcerer stumbled from the pain.
“By the!” The Shadow swung her hand in a swift blur of a movement, which was followed by a flash of light that blinded Morgana.
She felt arms grabbing on to her and carrying her body away, a movement which pressed against her wound and somehow caused a cascade of reactions inside her body. One of them forced a violent cough out of her to spit something rotten into her mouth.
This is bad, Morgana thought, realizing she had coughed blobs of blood.
Morgana had to accomplish her mission. She had to. Her vision finally came back with her hearing, and she noticed she had an arm around Shadow’s shoulders. The girl was helping her move.
“Are you okay?” the Shadow asked, concerned. “Hey, are you--”
Loud laughter surged and passed by them, calling her senses even more to consciousness. Morgana looked up in time to see the clownish individual, the Circus Freak, running away over at the opposite end of the corridor. Three beasts passed by, leaping after him.
“What in…is that?” the Shadow asked.
“Heh,” Morgana finally spoke, pushing herself off the Shadow to stand on her own two feet, no matter the pain. She found a lot of strength in being right. “Guess that answers that question. Lead the way, Hunter.”
The Hunter looked at her, a hint of worry in her eyes, but she nodded and turned.
“You look like you’re about to die,” the Shadow told her honestly. And pleadingly. Which was confusing.
“I feel as such,” Morgana admitted but nudged her head forward. “Focus on the task.”
The Shadow grumbled and kept close, which was endearing and, at the same time, belittling. And confusing. Why would she care?
They followed the Hunter down the corridor the Circus Freak had come from, to find a room where a conversation was going on.
They could hear the common tongue as they approached.
“…as such! Both I and the Eye! Illustrious members of Led by Anarchy, would be honored in assisting you in your destructive endeavor!”
What in all the occult…
They carefully approached right up to the door, and they peeked to take note of what was happening.
What they found were two competitors talking to a more humanoid version of the Beasts. The thing was definitely more the size of common men, and it had no fangs, and he was dressed in raggedy clothes, all dirty and fashioned off materials she did not recognize. The face was hairy and rough but definitely humanoid, with nose, ears, and eyes that were extremely like she saw on the Beasts.
It made Morgana consider whether the Beasts might actually be some manner of armored suits or mechanical constructs. That would explain why it resisted the teleportation spell.
More surprising to her was the identity of the men offering the enemy assistance. The top hat and mechanical limbs betrayed the identity of Falk Goldsmith, the infamous terrorist Mad Genius. His companion was the Eye. The Eye sported a helmet which had built-in devices to allow her to see like nothing else could. Rumors were that she could even see magic in its invisible state, and that was outside of having the ability to perceive through walls and other materials. They were both notorious fiends who did not like the world all that much.
However, they were certainly trying to exceed all expectations by offering to help the Beasts.
Morgana grinned in anger.
“You. Are fools,” said the beast man.
The voice came from a hoarse throat that seemed to have not been used in a long time, but in a much different way than the Hunter. It sounded like the throat wasn’t made for speaking the words. It was scratchy and intimidating, but even with that, it was shocking to hear it because it was undeniable proof of high intelligence, or at least as high as mankind was capable of.
They were inside a room that sported some kind of table, and it was surrounded by beasts and also more humanoid forms like the one the Mad Genius was talking with. Around ten humanoids and five beasts were in the room.
The Mad Genius had his hands behind his back, and the Sorcerer noticed how his real hand squeezed around the metal one.
“Pardon?” He asked, pointedly.
“You. Are enemies,” the beast man stated.
“But that is exactly what we seek to refute,” the Eye voiced, her voice old and seasoned. “We hoped us getting here would prove our prowess, and thus, how useful we can be to your plans. With us helping you, there will be no way for mankind to stop you.”
The man needed long seconds to take in what he had heard or to think of what to say in return, or just to make them wait.
“You. Are use. Less.”
That had silenced both of them. They wavered like a woman of great legend and success would waver, upon being belittled.
“How dare you?” The Eye replied, angry.
“With our help, you will be unstoppable,” the Mad Genius argued. “We know how the world organizes, we know all who will try to oppose you. And we can make it so that all of them fail.”
The man again took his time.
“We. make it.” The voice sounded utterly insulted. “We do. Not need. The ob. Solete.”
The Mad Genius’s hand showed veins, such was the pressure he put on it. There was a deadly silence in the air, stretching like a corruption of the flesh. It dragged on uncomfortably for almost a full minute.
Eventually, the Mad Genius spoke, and he spoke with a voice that scared even the Sorcerer. “Obsolete?”
“Your tech. Nology. Is ob. Solete. Your abi. lity. Is ob. Solete. Your men. tality. Obso. lete. You are.”
A gunshot sounded out in the air, in the midst of alarms, a prequel to wailing and screams in a foreign language of screeches and grunts.
The body of the man jolted back in reaction to the concussive force of the bullet. The Eye flinched away in shock, and the Mad Genius was already throwing a metal panel on the ground in front of him.
“By the spirits,” the Hunter whispered.
“By the ancestors,” the Shadow balked.
“What the void, Falk?!” The Eye reacted, turning around to run.
The Mad Genius, tho
ugh, just stepped onto the panel and pressed a foot into it.
And stood high. “I will! Show you obsolete!”
The panel squeaked and cranked, forcing an extension of itself. It grew to the sides and then around, to cover the Mad Genius in a sphere, and not the least bit slowly. Everyone else in the room was still reeling from what had happened, in complete shock, so nobody stopped it.
From watching all their reactions, it was obvious to Morgana that in his madness, Falk had killed their leader.
The guards first focused on the Eye. She was impaled and crushed against the ground in seconds, her bones crunching loudly even under the alarm, and beneath a mad whimper of agony.
The Shadow grasped at her mouth in dismay.
By the time they turned to attack the Mad Genius, the sphere had closed, and the panel on the ground had grown, showing exhaust turbines. His voice sounded out from inside the sphere while it was banged and dented and broken apart by his humanoid attackers. It wouldn’t last more than a minute under attack, but it didn’t stay idle for more than twenty seconds in all.
“I will show you all! You will rue this day!” The Mad Genius’s voice surged by way of speakers, distorted to sound far away and as mechanical as half his body was.
The turbines turned on, and great rumbling ejected his vessel against the ceiling. The collision shook even the hall where the Sorcerer was standing, and smoke and fire blasted out of the propulsion, causing many of the humanoids to scream in pain while at the same time filling the room with smoke and vapor.
The only thing visible was the bright red light from melting metal, caused by whatever the Mad Genius was using to drill through the ceiling.
All of that, as far as the Sorcerer was concerned, was insanely advanced technology.
“YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU SCORNED FALK GOLDSHMIDT! THE GREATEST GENIUS IN THE WORLD!!!”
Terrible noises of metal breaking and shattering took over the environment as sparks flew in every direction, coming from the ceiling. Sound was all they had, but by that alone, she could tell how his construct broke through the ceiling, then hit another one, broke through that, and then flew high into the air and out of hearing.
