by Ramy Vance
Now, it was Anabelle’s turn to put Grok on the defensive. Whenever the elf needed a breather, she would dodge, turn into mist, and recombine a few feet away, or behind the orc.
The fight took on the nature of a dance. Anabelle felt it as her movements flowed and she played off Grok. She could tell the orc sensed it as well. The pair engaged in a violent waltz, fighting to see who would lead, competing to see who the better partner was.
Grok’s fists charged with mana, and she swiped at Anabelle, who threw up a shield and slipped in close to Grok. The elf swung her fist upward, only for Grok to grab her by the wrist and fling her aside. Anabelle’s heels slid across the ground, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they were trying to hurt each other at this point.
The fight felt more like her early sparring matches. Testing technique against technique to see which would break an opponent’s guard. And Anabelle was most definitely trying every move and skill she’d learned. And, rather than merely relying on her elemental magic, she was using a combination of all three Paths. Slipping into the shadows when available, disintegrating and reforming her body, managing her mana with short bursts of violence.
In many ways, the elf was the true opposite of Grok. Anabelle moved in a calm and measured way, reacting to what was in front of her, and attempting to come up with a solution.
But, as the elf had already admitted to herself, Grok’s fighting style didn’t need any improvement. The orc possessed the stamina and the mana-control to deliver bone-crushing blows—something Anabelle was well aware of. She had seen Terra take an uppercut from Grok in their last fight and had wondered how the human had managed to get back to her feet so quickly.
Grok rushed at Anabelle to close the distance, barreling into a marine. She ripped the rifle from the man’s hand, surged into the air, and slammed the rifle down on Anabelle, who simply heated her hand with white-hot energy and sliced through the rifle with ease. The orc wielded the two halves of the rifle like clubs, attempting to beat Anabelle over the head with them.
Anabelle stepped away, deflecting both of Grok’s attacks before jumping up, her feet bursting with ice energy as she kicked the orc in the chest. The connection was solid, and ice spread across Grok’s chest and to her feet as the elf guided the energy. Annabel froze Grok in place as the orc stepped back.
The elf took her shot, pulling as much mana from Grok as possible. She redirected the energy to her fist and slugged Grok in the face with all the power she possessed.
Grok’s eyes bulged, but she didn’t go anywhere; her feet were frozen to the ground.
Now it was time for Anabelle to be relentless. As the orc fought to break free of the ice, the elf pounded her face in repeatedly.
The strain of attacking with mana while also trying to keep her prior attack from unraveling turned out to be too much, and keeping it up any longer would tire her out before the fight was over. She dissolved into mist, reforming beside a rifle as the ice melted from Grok’s foot.
Anabelle kicked the rifle up, caught it, and fired at Grok, peppering the orc with plasma blasts. She hoped a few full-on blasts would be enough to eliminate the orc.
The smoke cleared, and Grok was standing, breathing heavily, a thin shield of mana covering her body. “Nice one, knife ears. Didn’t think you had it in you. Where’s all this coming from? The first time I fought you, I was worried the Travelers had picked a whelp incapable of defending herself.”
Anabelle released a deep sigh. She was tired. This amount of mana usage was costly. She was technically able to keep from running out, but her body would punish her for it. Maybe Grok knew that and was drawing the fight out for that reason.
Grok straightened her spine and smiled before cracking her neck and stretching. “Looks like I can really let myself go.” The orc closed her eyes.
Anabelle could feel Grok’s mana rising dramatically. By the gods. She has this much power?
Anabelle felt like she was looking at an infinite pool of magical energy. “Confusing” wasn’t the right word. Grok had barely used magic. The most Anabelle had seen had been simple manipulations of her strength and speed. Was Grok going to use all that mana just for physical means? That would kill her.
As Grok’s mana continued to rise, Anabelle could see her muscles tensing and flexing.
Grok took a step forward, and the ground shattered under her foot. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this. To look upon the final Traveler and know that they have the strength to finally test me, to let me see how strong I truly am.”
Anabelle felt a twinge of her old fear. This fear had initially scared her. “You don’t hate the Travelers, do you? They never did anything to you. You don’t really give a shit about them.”
Grok took another step, and the concrete beneath her exploded. “One enemy is as good as another, as long as they’re strong enough.”
Grok surged forward, and her elbow connected with Anabelle’s chest. Anabelle felt her entire body explode with pain as she gasped for air. Grok leapt up, whirled, and slammed her foot onto Anabelle’s head.
Anabelle managed to shield her upper body with mana, keeping Grok’s attack from breaking her neck. For a moment, she considered running. But she wasn’t going to give Grok the satisfaction. Instead, she turned, preparing to attack.
Grok was gone.
Anabelle whirled, and Grok’s fist hit her in the head. She felt the mana traveling through the orc’s fist and into her skull. The elf soared backward and crashed into a nearby building.
She tried to sit up, but her body refused to move. At least I have a good view of the battle. Looks like we’re winning.
Grok hadn’t bothered to walk over to Anabelle. She was staring off in the distance, unconcerned with the elf, or the battle around them. “I’ll be damned. She actually did it,” Grok muttered.
Above the city, the sky was turning black. Anabelle felt a distinct sense of dread, but she didn’t know why. It was as though the feeling had been inserted into her accidentally, and then it had vanished.
Grok turned her attention back to Anabelle. “If you survive this, we’ll finish where we left off.”
A Dark Gate opened behind Grok, and she walked through it, leaving her forces behind.
Anabelle released a sigh of relief. “Ugh. Live to fight another day.” She struggled to her feet as an orc ran at her. She raised her hand and let loose a stream of fire, scorching the creature. Then she commed Terra. “What the hell is happening?”
Terra sounded shaken when she replied, “Cire says the ritual is nearly complete. I just gotta get through a dragon, and I’ll be at Rasputina.”
“A dragon?”
“Yeah, we’re kinda having a pretty epic stare-down right now. How are things on your end?”
Anabelle scanned the block. Her marines had the upper hand, and they could easily make their way to Rasputina. Even more so now that Grok had been polite enough to leave. “Should only take a couple of minutes. Abby with you?”
“She’s a little banged up, but she should be good.”
Anabelle was already limping in Rasputina’s direction. Above her, the sky had returned to normal. “Hurry up. We gotta stop this quick.” She hung up and then punched in an order to the other marines. “Finish off the orcs and make your way toward the lich.”
Terra and Cire stared the silver dragon down as it roared and spat sparks of lightning.
“What’s the plan?” Cire asked.
Terra shrugged noncommittally. “I was going to punch it until it was dead. That sound good?”
“That is a working plan.”
Terra ran at the dragon, Cire following closely behind.
The dragon sprang forward. As Terra and Cire got closer, the creature turned, whipping its tail around and catching Terra with it.
She grabbed the dragon’s tail and held on for dear life. The wind had been knocked out of her, and she needed a second to catch her breath.
Cire ducked and managed to avoid the attack.
He brought his ax up into the dragon’s neck, but the plasma blade wasn’t strong enough to cut through.
The dragon dove to snap Cire up in its jaws, and the orc dodged to the left. Lightning crackled around the dragon’s body.
The sparks traveled along the dragon’s spine and electrocuted Terra, but she didn’t let go. She gritted her teeth and fought through the pain. Once the lightning had passed, she started crawling up the dragon, who seemed to have forgotten her in its attempt to deal with Cire.
Cire lunged, closing in on the dragon’s head. He swung his ax and hit the dragon broadside across the face, stunning the creature. Another pulse of lightning flowed through the dragon, this time catching Cire in its wake.
The orc slumped forward, stunned. He was leaning against his ax as the dragon’s maw opened, and a blast of lightning hit him square in the chest.
Cire soared through the air, hitting a car near Abby, who had two marines watching over her as she healed.
Terra, still clutching the dragon’s tail, screamed with rage and leapt into the air. She slammed her fists into the dragon’s spine.
The dragon screeched and slumped over to the side for a moment before regaining its composure. It rolled over, catching Terra underneath its bulk as it leaned close to her, its mouth open.
Terra grabbed the dragon’s jaws to keep it from biting her. She stared into the creature’s mouth as it began to charge up its lightning. Terra either had to wait for the dragon to fry her, or she had to release its jaws and risk electrocution.
Cire was picking himself up when Abby stirred. She was speaking under her breath. “What am I at right now, Martin?” she muttered. “Eighty percent? Internal bleeding? Now…okay, stitch me up later. Let’s go.”
Nanobots rolled over Abby’s body, covering her in armor. The thrusters on her back fired and she rocketed toward the dragon, slamming into the side of its head, her hands glowing with charging plasma blasts. She fired again, the bursts tearing through the creature’s jaw.
The dragon reeled away, giving Terra the opportunity she needed. She leapt up and grabbed it by the throat, slinging herself over its neck. She pulled down as hard as she could, wrestling the dragon to the ground. “Let ‘em have it, kid!”
As the creature opened its mouth, roaring in pain, Abby slammed her hands together to form her massive plasma cannon. The charge whirled loudly, and she fired. The blast plunged into the dragon’s mouth, tore through its body, and ripped out its backside.
The dragon slumped over dead.
Terra looked at Abby. “We need to get to the lich. Fast.”
Abby scooped Terra up in her arms. “All right, then. We’ll get there fast.” Her thrusters went off, and she sped down the street.
Terra and Abby zoomed around the corner. Abby stopped suddenly, and Terra toppled out of her arms.
Rasputina was in the middle of the block, floating above the pentagram.
Across the block, Anabelle had just arrived, followed by her marines. There was a platoon of orcs, along with a balrog, between Anabelle and Rasputina.
Terra whistled loudly. “That’s probably gonna be a hassle to get through.”
Abby didn’t answer. When Terra looked at her, Abby was gawking at Rasputina. “Is she…naked?” Abby asked.
Terra shoved Abby. “You’re not allowed to get a crush on someone who’s trying to kill us and destroy reality as we know it.”
“I don’t have a crush. Just ain’t something you see every day. You think Belle’s going to need help?”
As Abby asked this question, a loud whooping echoed over all the comm. Roy’s mech fell from the sky, landing on top of the balrog. The marines screamed in response and charged the orcs around the fallen beast. “Finally found a good landing spot. Holy shit. Is that Rasputina?”
Anabelle’s voice came over the comm. “Could you pay attention to our mission?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just caught me off guard. Don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. Pretty weird.”
Rasputina’s cackle cut off the conversation. She laughed as she dove to the concrete. She collided with an intense force, her body lying flat, leaking thick green fluid from parts of her body she had busted open.
Abby’s face scrunched. “Fuck, that’s nasty.”
“Did she just kill herself?” Terra asked.
Anabelle, who was on the other side of the block, fighting through orcs and goblins, shouted, “You could go and check instead of sitting around blabbering about it!”
“You don’t have to be a dick about it.”
The marines behind Terra and Abby were approaching Rasputina’s body. As they drew closer, the lich’s laughter started up again. She lurched off the ground, her body moving as though controlled by a puppeteer, bones broken, arms akimbo. “Open all of our eyes! Let us see!”
The ground split open, a chasm gaping wide and terrible. The marines stopped in their tracks, as did everyone else.
Black flames shot up from the broken ground, and a putrid smell billowed out, the stench of millions of bodies rotting for an eternity. A cry came from deep within the souls of all who watched.
What came forth did not come from the shattered earth. Nobody would have seen how it manifested. It was unlike the opening of the portals that had accompanied the lich’s arrival.
There was a moment in time when the space was empty. And then a moment in which it was filled.
And that which came forth, the creature the lich had summoned, was a thing of horror, one who had not walked within the realms of mortals since the elves were but children, still forming the basics of their language. For language had been necessary to describe the horror that pulled itself into existence while the lich laughed, and while the sky rained blood.
A womb was the simplest description of such a thing. A placenta that writhed and pulsed in the middle of the city block. A horrid screeching emanated from the womb as it expanded, a heart beating beneath the thin layer of bleeding skin.
All watched. Orc, goblin, and human alike. Many of the marines and orcs screamed, incapable of comprehending what they looked upon.
When the placenta burst, it sent waves of amniotic fluid pouring down the street, catching human and orc alike in a tidal wave of fetid fluid.
A god was being born. That which was dead and sleeping was now awake and living.
Something slithered out of the deflating sac. The thing was growing rapidly, its tentacles spreading out as its liquid skin began to solidify.
“I’ve seen this before,” Abby murmured.
Terra was staring at the grotesque pile of tentacles and eyes, all opening in the same moment, all staring about and rolling, as though peering into a world unseen by those who now beheld this obscene abomination.
“Where?” Terra asked Abby.
“The shard…the liquid in the shard. I think it’s the same stuff…I’m getting the same readings.”
The mass of tentacles and open eyes began to take shape. A chaotic pile of slithering life, moving incessantly as though incapable of remaining in this realm. It grew larger and larger, a screech bursting forth, a sound none but the lich had ever heard. Such a noise would drive the weakest minds to the brink of insanity, and already, humans and orcs were turning upon each other, slaughtering without reason, without discretion between friend or foe.
Abby grabbed Terra with one arm and Cire with the other, and she surged into the air. Across the street, Roy raced to Anabelle. He slowed only long enough for the elf to jump on top of the mech before he sped to Abby and the others.
The five were perched on a building above the chaos in the streets as the Elder God before them took its final shape: an almost humanoid creature, body covered in eyes, three heads protruding from its neck, each opening its mouth to reveal gums and throats lined with more green eyes.
Leathery wings spread out, showing hands pushing against the skin. Its bottom half was a mass of writhing tentacles.
“It’s like Persephone’s arm…” Abby murm
ured.
The Elder God towered over the tallest building, its tentacles tearing up the ground.
Anabelle sighed as she leaned her head back. “How the fuck are we supposed to stop that?”
There was a flash of bright light next to Anabelle, blinding everyone.
Myrddin appeared at the elder’s side. He sighed softly. “So, it seems she was successful. That is unfortunate.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Myrddin conjured his wand. “It takes a god to kill a god.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The DGA and Myrddin watched as the Old One stumbled through the city, lumbering along as though still getting accustomed to its body.
Abby couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Nor did she want to continue looking at the creature. The sight of it made her head swim and felt like she was going to fall off the side of the building. “How are you going to stop something that big?”
Myrddin studied the Old One. “Huzmurrth is one of the youngest of the Old Ones. Weaker than the rest. Rasputina probably didn’t have the supplies, or time, to perform a ritual to summon one of the stronger ones. I can manage this one as long as we can strike before it solidifies fully.”
Anabelle shook her head in disbelief at the monstrous being tripping over its own tentacles and smashing into the building beside it. “It’s like a giant baby.”
“For now. A half-hour or more, and it’s going to be a rampaging monster hellbent on chaos.”
Terra waved a hand. “Uh…I’m just gonna throw it out there. That thing is already rampaging. Pretty effectively, too. It’s been like thirty seconds, and it’s already destroyed two buildings. New York is going to look fucked up after this thing is done with it. Oh! Is anyone else getting major Ghostbuster vibes? You know, like when they accidentally summoned Zuul.”
Abby and Anabelle stared at Terra, their faces blank. “Do you really think now is the right time to be playing eighties’ movie trivia?” Anabelle asked.
