Balance of Power: The Blackened Prophecy Book 2

by Oganalp Canatan

  “Fire!” Major Bennett yelled, pulling the trigger. Every personnel fired at the cloud, killing hundreds of the insects, but it was in vain. In a moment’s flash, the cloud washed over them. Bennett screamed as she watched the little black insects digging through her skin. Her hands and arms reddened with stings and bites. She tried to pull off her tactical gear and clothes, but there were just too many of them.

  Major Bennett fell to her knees, no longer able to resist the pain of the stings. Her hands were swollen, and she felt things moving under her skin. She tried to scream once more, but bugs poured out of her mouth, and she fell face down, her eyes wide open, staring at Lieutenant Harper’s body twitching a few meters away from her.

  ***

  “Admiral Conway,” Lieutenant Commander Jong called from his station.

  “Yes?”

  “A small object came out of hyperspace and dove right into somewhere at the engineering section.”

  Rebecca moved from the main display to the tactical console. “What object?”

  “I cannot be sure, ma’am. Our sensors did not detect its energy signature. The Doppler radar picked up its movement.”

  Rebecca licked her lips, touching the communicator badge on her chest. “Mr. Ga’an?”

  “Yes, Admiral Conway.”

  “We may have another unwanted visitor. A small object, possibly a pod, just attached itself to the ship.”

  “Do you want me to check it?”

  “No, I want you to hasten your work.”

  Ga’an didn’t reply at first. When he did, his voice was even duller. “Understood. Ga’an out.”

  ***

  “The motion sensors are picking up something approaching,” a soldier said over his shoulder to Major Kasper.

  “Where?” Major Kasper asked, but he got his reply before his man could speak. A naked woman appeared at the end of the main corridor, her eyes glowing red. She walked with purpose.

  “Is that… Nurse Erika?”

  “Erika was inside that hospital by the time it got hit. She can’t be,” another marine said.

  “Shut up, both of you, and fire!”

  “But sir?”

  “Does it look like Erika?” Major Kasper barked. “The thing’s eyes are glowing red, for gods’ sake!”

  “Fair enough,” the soldier replied, firing.

  Major Kasper and the others followed, all seven of the tactical response team spilling their rounds on the woman, and she just kept walking. Bullets were hitting her, Kasper was sure of it, but it was as if her body swallowed them.

  “Back. Back into the generator room,” Major Kasper yelled, still firing as he and his team retreated. He hit the emergency button once they were inside and closed the blast doors. By the time the doors were shut with a thick thump, the woman, Erika, was right outside the door.

  “Charges,” Major Kasper barked.

  “Sir?”

  “We cannot risk her taking over this station. Block the door.”

  “Sir, we cannot blow up the generators.”

  He was right. What was Kasper thinking? The major sighed, rubbing his eyes to consider his options. Then he touched his communicator. “Admiral Conway.”

  “This is Conway.”

  “Major Kasper here, we have a visitor, and we may not hold the generator room forever. I suggest you transfer all power to the secondary one.”

  “Understood, Major. Is the enemy force overwhelming?”

  Major Kasper scratched his nose. “You could say that, ma’am. It is one woman. Nurse Erika. At least she looks like Erika. However, we couldn’t stop her. Our weapons had no effect. We have barricaded ourselves inside the generator room.”

  After a brief silence, Admiral Conway spoke, her voice like iron. “The generator room is like a hub, connecting to every other room inside the ship via service tunnels and cable holes. Do not let it fall into enemy hands, Major Kasper.”

  “Understood.” Kasper cut the connection, looking down at his rifle. “Okay, listen up. Set the charges. I want this door and those generators rigged.”

  “Sir?”

  “Just do your job, marine.”

  A tearing sound stopped them. A woman’s hand, with nails more like steel knives to Kasper, ripped through the thick blast door. Then the other hand came out and tore the door slowly like a piece of paper. There was enough opening now to see the woman’s face. She looked inside the generator room, and her stare stopped on Kasper. She looked hateful, her face tensed with anger. “I am Vengeance.”

  “M—Major Kasper, Second Division, Tactical Reconnaissance Team, D—”

  “Where is she?”

  “Huh… Who?”

  “The one you call ‘Admiral’”

  Major Kasper had no idea how to respond. “I… bridge, maybe?”

  Vengeance narrowed her eyes and disappeared from the hole. By the time Major Kasper found the courage and made it to the opening on the blast door, she had already disappeared, only the dead corridor left in her wake.

  TOOLS OF THE TRADE

  The temple was huge, even by her standards. She realized she had just used size as a defining measure. In the female human avatar form again, she looked down at her hands, inspecting their shapes and fingers. They felt more and more a part of her now. She raised her stare to the colossal walls on each side of the corridor, rising beyond the limit of human sight, disappearing into the darkness. Admiration. She realized she admired the effort put into creating this monument of existence. Thousands of constellations from different universes were engraved into the ancient stone walls, glowing pale blue. Some of those stars had died long ago, and some were yet unborn. The temple hung between planes, right where every one of them intersected, like a gateway. If she was human, she wouldn’t see the rifts, but her eternal eyes saw the crossing lines outside the massive structure, surrounding the Temple of Amasshan like foam. She had been here many times, claiming the souls of countless Lohils but not once had she the eyes to look at it with admiration.

  Never before had she felt any sense of love or hate toward any artificial creation. They were stones and metal. Her creators, the Creators, had designs and structures built from materials, but neither was it her duty to care, nor was it her place to question the Creators' logic. She wasn’t sure about the second part now. Doubt was another feeling seeded into her endless mind.

  “You are welcome, child,” a bass male voice spoke softly in the human tongue as she passed the mesmerizing—and daunting—corridor and arrived in a gigantic chamber. “It is good to see you visit us once again.”

  “You speak the human tongue,” she said, approaching the altar placed in the middle of the hall. Except for the pedestal and the archway leading to it, the huge room was completely dark. Even her eternal stare couldn’t penetrate the void.

  “You carry the human appearance,” another voice replied. Female, elegant, but with a hint of curiosity under. “You have never come before us in any form other than your own.”

  “Yes,” the Devourer said, looking at her hands again. “It is intriguing.”

  “The humans were an interesting outcome of the Seeding,” the male voice replied. “It is with great interest we watch their progress.”

  “You have seeded the humans?”

  “Yes, among many other species, they were created in our vision.”

  “Why?”

  “You are interested in knowing why we have created the humans?”

  “I am.”

  “To see you have interest in something is new,” the male voice said.

  “They are, like countless others, a byproduct of our search for genetic perfection,” the female voice added. “An image, a reflection of our thoughts and intellect.”

  The Devourer lowered her hands, looking at the altar. “I am here to claim the soul of the next Lohil. The time has come. It is the Calling.”

  “Yet, you stand alone, and the Lohil is nowhere near the temple.”

  “He will come.”


  “How can you be sure?” the male voice asked. “You let the Lohil choose his own fate? Is that… arrogance I am sensing in you?”

  “No,” she replied. “Confidence. The Lohil wants this to be over as much as I do.”

  Silence followed her words before the male one finally spoke. “Approach.”

  The Devourer took the steps to the altar as asked, standing before a pedestal made from metals and crystals unknown even to her eternal existence. Each deeper than her avatar’s height, four sockets marked the four corners of two central dents that she could only address as seats. She has been here before but never dared to approach the altar. Not dared. Cared. It hadn’t been necessary for her to do so, and she wasn’t curious about it before.

  A sudden beam of light blinded her. Not just her human eyes but her spirit and thoughts altogether. She felt a crushing feeling like being stuck under a falling planet. She found relief in the temple’s stones, neutralizing her powers. Her bond with her children was severed, and so, they didn’t feel this devastating feeling through the bond.

  The beam died as suddenly as it came. Two figures stood before her. Their upper bodies looked like a derivation of plane dwellers and humans. Their skin was dark purple, their ears pointed like the plane dwellers—Baeal—although not connected to their skulls. Their eyes and their facial features were more like humans, as was the fact that they had hair. They both wore simple stone necklaces. The faces were filled with more… emotion. The lower bodies were machines with four legs, looking like her children’s limbs with metal plating exactly like her minions’ shells. She realized in all her eternal life, she had never laid eyes on her creators. She was endless, she was powerful beyond measure, and all those species she faced in her hunt for the Lohil saw her as a goddess, a deity. Now, she was in the presence of a race who did not fear her.

  “You are… surprised,” the female Creator observed. She was naked, her breasts like those of the female humans she reflected. “It is the first time you are seeing us.”

  “Yes, Creator.”

  “It is because this the first time you are acting beyond the purpose of your creation, child,” the male continued. “You exist for one reason only—to balance the flow of power. To neutralize the Lohil. If we had wanted to give you feelings, we would have. You are not meant to feel and think. You are meant to devour.”

  “Am I a genetic byproduct of your search for answers like the rest? Is the Lohil?”

  “No.”

  “You are a tool.”

  “And so is he.”

  She felt anger rising. She had never questioned her actions, and she knew she was a tool. It hadn’t disturbed her. Now it did. And the open admission of her being only a tool in their grand scheme irritated her all the more. There was no subtlety, no finesse in the words of her creators. Her eyes narrowed. “Millions of my children died in countless encounters to do your bidding.”

  “They are your tools just as you are ours. Using them in whatever way you had chosen was your responsibility. You killed your children in your strategies and tactics. You chose the way you use your tools.”

  “They are not tools,” she lowered her voice. “They are my children.”

  “Is that,” the female Creator leaned her head just like a human would do, “is that anger toward us you are feeling.”

  “Yes.” The Devourer took a step forward and suddenly felt a pain she never thought possible. She screamed in her eternal voice, feeling every muscle, every fiber, every atom in her creation shaking. She felt as if she were dissolving from the inside.

  “If you are capable of thinking for yourself now, you should also think about the extent of your powers, child. You are standing before your creators, who gave you your powers. You can be undone as easily as you were shaped.”

  The female let go of her necklace, and the pain faded, leaving the Devourer shaken. She found herself on her knees, trembling.

  “You can wait here until the Lohil arrives,” the male said, and that same blinding light covered the two Creators.

  She was all alone in the huge chamber once again as the lights faded, staring at the altar, considering her creators’ words.

  “Millions of my children died,” she whispered, lowering her stare to her hands. Her human hands. “Millions of my children died.”

  ***

  He was standing in the middle of nowhere. The ground under his boots was soft yet dry. Cracks on the earth were big enough to fit his fingers if he wished. There was no sun. No, he realized, there was no sky. It felt like daytime, but nothing illuminated the place. But it was bright somehow. The sands went to the horizon in each direction. No elevation, no trees, no mountains. Just dry earth.

  “Lohil.”

  Ray turned to see the owner of the voice. “You,” he said, locking his stare with the apparition’s, “where have you brought me?”

  “It is what you dream of, Lohil. I am simply visiting your thoughts.”

  “I don’t think I like the idea of you poking into my head, lady.”

  The Devourer lowered her stare. “I am sorry for my intrusion. I am finding the solitude of dreams compelling.”

  Ray winced, looking around one more time. “Well, I’ve dreamed of better places in my time, that’s for sure.”

  The Devourer’s stare wandered toward the horizon, looking genuinely saddened. “Your dreams are hollow. Dead, Lohil.”

  “It’s just a dream.”

  “Like me, you are broken.”

  Ray tilted his head to his side.

  “You are a tool in a grand design, just like I am.”

  Ray didn’t miss the slight hesitation in the Devourer’s voice as she said, ‘tool.’

  “Your task was given as a gift and as a burden.”

  “Great, the flying creature storm who tries to kill me also understands me.” Ray narrowed his eyes, tilting his head, “This isn’t a session, right? You won’t ask me about my mother?”

  The Devourer crouched slowly, touching the dry, dead earth. “Have you ever questioned your role in the grand design of things? The reason why you are given these opulent gifts that no other soul possesses?”

  “You’re kidding, right? Every damned day for the last year and a half.”

  “I have never questioned, Lohil,” The Devourer said. “Not until now.”

  Ray sighed, scratching his head. “Any particular reason for this visit of yours? You’re interrupting my beauty sleep.”

  “I am at the Temple of Amasshan, awaiting your arrival.”

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” Ray said, unable to control the sudden chill in his voice. Not that he wanted to. “We’ll settle this once and for all.”

  The Devourer nodded slowly. “Once and for all.” She stood, looking at Ray one last time. “Once and for all.”

  THE BURDEN OF COMMAND

  “Isn’t the fire containment system supposed to kick in?” Lieutenant Darrell yelled over the burst of his assault rifle. His dark skin shone, sweat dripped from his bald head. “We’ll all get cooked before these things get to us, man!”

  “It’s a wonder we’re flying, Darrell, and you’re worried about a fire?” Sergeant Johns yelled back.

  “Shut up and keep firing!”

  “Yes, sir,” the two soldiers cut the chatter and focused on their suppression fire. The bright flames of the burning walls lit their stern faces. Burned bug carcasses piled up a few meters ahead of them, the acrid smoke of dead insects filling the air.

  “Major Victor, we can’t hold them here forever,” Darrell said, reloading. “I’m on my last two clips.”

  “I’m out, last nine rounds!” Johns joined in. “We can rig that dead mech to explode and collapse this corridor.”

  Major Victor narrowed his eyes, looking at the holographic section map he pulled up from his wrist computer. “We can’t risk that,” he concluded, wincing. “Two levels above us, there’s a power line going to one of the upper batteries.”

  “So, what? We don’t need to sh
oot outside. They are already inside the ship.”

  “Sergeant,” Major Victor gazed at his soldier as if he was about to send him back to boot camp, “have you ever seen a power barrel decompress with uncontrolled rupture?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Of course, you didn’t because you’d be human paste otherwise.”

  Sergeant Johns nodded, “Got it, sir. No explosions near the power lines.”

  “Good kid. Now,” Victor zoomed in on the level where they held ground, “here and here are two junctions with emergency hatching. We’ll seal those doors and rig the air duct from bay nine. It would buy us time.”

  “Sure, Major, but buy us time for what? We’re trapping ourselves in the bow section, that’s all.”

  “Lieutenant Darrell,” Major Victor let the holographic map disappear, taking out his combat shotgun and firing at another centipede crawling out from the corner of the corridor, “when you’re someone with a rank high enough for others to give a damn, you can call the shots. Now,” Major Victor fired two more rounds at another mantis bug, smaller than the ones back on New Eden, “unless you’d like a royal pounding in the ass, keep firing.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Damn straight.” Major Victor pulled out a fragmentation grenade from his belt and reduced the yield to limit the blast radius. “Now, we pull out.” He threw the grenade at the corridor junction twenty meters away and turned back, walking to the next coordinates to block the passage. He didn’t even hear—or care about for that matter—the explosion and the following shrieks.

  ***

  “We lost corridors H-one through D-seven. Hangar bays nine, eight, and five also fell into enemy hands,” Ga’an said in a flat, flickering voice due to the bad signal reception. “At this rate, we will lose a third of the ship within three hours, Admiral Conway. We are already having communication issues because of this material the bugs are covering the decks with. It is like goo that turns into chitin or a shell.”

  Rebecca wished she could hide her emotions like Ga’an did. She realized she had unbuttoned her jacket. When had she done that? “Pull fire teams one, ten, and twelve back to the mid-section hatch point, near the steam valves. Hold that point at all costs. Regroup each task force at main junctions and prepare to separate the bow section. I want radio contact only, no ship-wide announcements.”