Masked

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Masked Page 6

by G S Michaelson


  * * *

  West Scarlet.

  Aslog.

  Archion Tower.

  It had been a few hours after the incident, and the inhabitants of the tower were still in shock. No one had expected a direct assault on the Archion tower as something that was possible, and yet, it had happened.

  Aiden, Lionel and Bart had been summoned by their respective Centurions that morning. While the trio had encountered Caine last night and clashed with him, they had been unsuccessful in impeding his movement. Aiden suspected that wasn’t the reason they had been mobilised though, as he saw Avery and Tobi, his suspicions were confirmed.

  Avery was a man who could well be described as put together. His cropped hair was cut just so, his Centurion’s jacket fitted him just so, and the shirt he wore underneath fit just enough that you could see the muscle he packed underneath it. His unusual eye colour flashed in the room as they closed the door. Tobi was the opposite. His shirt was unbuttoned and hung open, his face was unshaven, and his look was wild. Yet, the two had done such good work over the past that they were allowed to essentially behave as they saw fit — to a reasonable degree.

  “Aside from the incident last night, there’s another smaller one that’s gone unnoticed.” Avery began, “Your teammates are missing, we’ve been unable to re-establish contact with them. We have been unable to establish any contact with any of the Four Cities. Something is very wrong.”

  “It should have been a simple mission with little chance of failure. All they had to do was write a report on what they saw, reassure the citizens there, maybe warn the Legion there to keep an eye out — then return, it should have been an hour’s work,” Tobi added, “Yet, we’ve been unable to reach them, and they’ve been gone for a day now. Especially since Caine’s attack, we’re now on high alert for irregularities.”

  “What if their radios are just switched off.” Aiden offered, “I know we’re in a crisis but should we really assume the worst?”

  “I’d reprimand them severely if so,” Avery said, “but I can’t reach anyone, anyone at all in that area. This isn’t a coincidence, especially with what just happened, we might need to go out there.”

  “I can’t come with you because all Centurions are needed, “Tobi said, “We can frankly only spare Avery t the moment, and simply because it is his team. There’s just not enough information to justify a full-on assault squad at the moment, they may simply be indisposed. However, in the absence of any concrete information, we must check this out ourselves. If you do not return by tomorrow, then, it’ll be a different matter.”

  “Where do we go then,” Aiden asked. “The Four Towns are very disparate, it’s a big region.”

  “Well, they went to Kwere, we’ll start there,” Avery said. “We can’t waste any time. You each have 5 minutes to read the reports, and then we’ll be off.”

  Avery’s face didn’t betray anything, he kept it stoic and relaxed. The reappearance of Caine was more significant for him than for others.

  A mission investigating attacks by beasts that could be mistaken for werewolves. And then Caine on the same day. Avery mulled it over in his head. No, it had to be them. It had to be Masquerade.

  * * *

  WestScarlet.

  The Four Cities.

  Gunne.

  The murderous duo that had by now killed hundreds made their way up the hillside, and into Gunne. They had expected some resistance or questioning, so already, their masks were on their heads, worn like fashion accessories and angled a little off to the side. Their willpower suppressed the mask’s influence, while they were still able to draw upon its power instantaneously.

  Unexpectedly, they encountered no resistance. Nor did they meet anyone else or any other sign of life.

  “There’s no one here,” Quinn groused. “Something’s wrong.”

  “No shit,” Alfred said, “They’re ready for us this time, stay on your guard, they’ll show themselves soon.”

  The two stood back to back, ears straining to catch the slightest footfall, eyes straining for the nearest movement. At first, all was still and silent, then sound, movement and light happened all at once.

  Art of Assault: Rampage Cannon Shot.

  Before either could move, several blasts of industria riddled their bodies, sending them flying through the air, hitting them again and separating them further.

  “Shit,” Alfred cursed, as he unleashed his mask. His body transformed, his slight wounds healed, his body powerful.

  He crashlanded on the rooftop of a building, getting up instantly. He was barely wounded, but the shockwaves had taken the wind out of him.

  Soft footfalls around him told him he wasn’t alone. Six of Gunne’s Legionnaire’s and Tyrone appeared all around him.

  “Alfred. We will not let you lay a finger on this town.” Tyrone said, matching Alfred’s hateful gaze with steely determination.

  “Is that what you think?”

  * * *

  Quinn was blown away towards the city gates, only managing to barely slow himself as his mask activated, mutating his body, stretching his arms and adding mass to his frame.

  “Someone really wants to die painfully,” He muttered, looking around for the source of the attack.

  From above, Eva released her cloaking spell as Deidre dropped right over Quinn, her glasstana extended to full length. She swung at his head, finding only air as he slid under it.

  “Did you think I didn’t notice that?“, his arms extending as he reached for her head. She shunted away from him just as he reached her. Another industria blast slammed into him, he roared in pain.

  Eva, Deidre, Jackson and six other Legionnaires now flanked him as well.

  “Surrender now, or we’ll be forced to kill you.”

  “Is that so?” Quinn brushed the dust off his face as he stood before them. “A swarm of flies like you think you can force someone like me to surrender. Incomprehensible. ”

  “If that’s the way you want it,” Deidre said, “Move on my command.”

  Chapter 10 - Defensive Battle

  Legion vs Masquerade.

  Battle of Gunne.

  The dust swirled as the Legion faced off against their frightening opponent. Would sheer number work to take him down? That idea had been shut down. Alfred had torn through a Legion base with ease, six more would pose no threat. One gulped. It was a do or die moment for them.

  “I see you’ve been expecting us,” Avery said, “You look good. I suppose your regen pills helped fix those bones I shattered earlier.”

  Tyrone didn’t take the bait.

  “You have one chance to surrender.” He said, “Otherwise we’ll be forced to bring you in with force. You can’t escape this time.”

  Alfred took in the scene. He was surrounded on all sides. The Legionnaires who were around him were lower level, he could kill them in seconds. The real problem was Tyrone. The man had defeated him earlier by sheer luck, an unbearable slight. However, he had gotten his measure, he was sure he could kill him now. It occurred to him that the opposite was true as well. Tyrone had no doubt devised some plan to finish him off.

  The battle would go to whoever moved first and most decisively.

  He smiled. It would go to him.

  Tyrone leapt forward, shunting in an instant, and reappearing behind Alfred.

  Wind Railgun!

  A wave of air bullets struck Alfred, forcing him forwards.

  Alfred stumbled as the blow knocked him off balance. Something was wrong, it wasn’t as focused as before. Alfred decided it was a distraction. He was right.

  Tyrone raised a hand, and three of the men behind him leapt to attention, arms outstretched. As he brought it down, they all fired industria beams at him, striking him. Burning him. Throwing him off balance.

  He roared in pain. It was time for a counter attack.

  Gorilla Mask: Anwanwu.

  The mask activated once more, his body bulging, muscles expanding to a grotesque size.
r />   Tyrone’s eyes widened at the change. He looked more frightening than he had seemed before.

  Leaping into the air, he slammed his palms together.

  Savage Shock!

  The shockwave obliterated the buildings behind were Turone had been standing, they would have killed the O-Squad members too had Tyrone not grabbed them and leapt out of the way.

  At the other side, Quinn had begun his assault on the other team. Deidre hacked and slashed, but his long arms kept her at bay.

  This was going according to plan.

  * * *

  “Alright, listen everyone. This plan can only work once,” Deidre had explained to the group earlier that day. “If it fails, all of you guys have to retreat. Do you understand?”

  Jackson nodded. The others quickly followed his lead.

  “Good.” Deidre stood up, gesturing quickly. “I’ll run it through once more. We cannot fail.”

  * * *

  Alfred leapt after Tyrone as the latter dashed through Gunne, leaping over buildings and through alleyways as he headed for the town’s square.

  “Tyrone, take A-Squad. Your target is Alfred. He’s a big guy, right? A little pain won’t stop him He wants you dead. In a moment of vulnerability, your team must stop him from moving. I trust you can set that up?”

  Tyrone leapt into the air again, Alfred followed, his powerful legs propelling him harder than the Sabre’s industria boosted jump.

  “Finally caught up to you, boy” He bellowed, reaching out to grab the other man’s ankle.

  Three Industria bolts struck him at the same time from below. He roared in pain.

  “His blows are big. Strong. Powerful. He swings like a massive ape full of power and strength. We need to use that power” Deidre had said, “He needs to go out and release some rage. We should use that desire against him.”

  Tyrone rolled off the roof of the building they had hurtled towards as Alfred slammed into it, smashing up chunks of concrete.

  To Tyrone, Deidre had advised, “For a few seconds, in that moment of vulnerability. Bind him. It need not lost long.”

  A spell cast by seven slammed into Alfred, his muscles seizing up as his arms forced themselves into a cross.

  Art of Restraint: Crucifix.

  Quinn had been swatting away Deidre’s and Eva’s attacks, when they suddenly flipped away from him mid-swing, leaving him exposed.

  “For Quinn. He’s arrogant. He sees women as inferior, he wouldn’t anticipate any indirect strategy — less so from us. We’ll engage him ourselves.”

  The six Legionnaires and Jackson all leapt out from where they had been hiding. Arms outstretched towards Quinn.

  “In his moment of surprise. You’ll hit him hard.” Deidre had told Jackson.

  “All together now,” Jackson called out, “Art of Assault: Twin Rampage Shot.”

  A barrage of industria projectiles flashed towards Quinn, raining down on him like a rain of hellfire. He held up his arms to defend, but only felt the sting of pain.

  “He will be stunned.” Deidre had said to both teams. “And we’ll use that singular moment— ”

  Quinn felt the heat behind him as Eva charged her attack. The light around her distorted the era as her gaze met his.

  Alfred roared, snapping the chains, as he was stunned by the blow. Before he could react, the wind around him roared. Tyrone had both hands out, gathering and compressing the air. A double wind ball.

  “—to launch the attacks that ended them before.” Deidre finished. “Give them everything you have!”

  “Fall!” Eva and Tyrone roared in unison, as their attacks launched, tearing into their marks.

  Alfred held his arms up as Tyrone’s attack made contact with skin. The familiar sensation bringing back memories of pain and broken bones.

  “Not this again!”

  The attack exploded, the shockwave sending him and Tyrone flying apart in different directions. Alfred was sent flying through buildings, leaving debris behind him. He came to an abrupt stop, his body halted by the solid Legion base. He crumpled, looking like he was dead.

  Tyrone turned away as the light flashed even in the daylight sky. Eva had attacked as well, finishing off Quinn. He too had been blown towards the Legion’s base as they had agreed prior. It was sturdy enough to take the impact and had holding cells just in case of an enemy attack.

  Captain Jackson approached him, his men flanking the Legion base. All were ready to restrain the two within a moment’s notice. But they lay still and unmoving.

  “Good plan,” Eva said as she and Deidre approached Tyrone.

  “Thanks,” Deidre replied, “It’s a good thing we had encountered them before. Otherwise, we would be unable to have come up with something like this.”

  Tyrone nodded in agreement. This had been easy. Too easy. He had turned away to talk to Eva and Deidre for a moment when he noticed their eyes widen in horror.

  Jackson’s mangled body slammed into the ground behind him. The others scattered in a panic as a muscular appendage sliced through the air, crushing brick and stone and lumber alike.

  “Oh no,” Deidre said.

  Alfred and Quinn had been revived. In the dust and debris, all they could make out were their silhouettes, glowing eyes like red flame, inhuman bodies, not unlike horror movie monsters.

  “Everyone of you get to safety!” Tyrone yelled, “We’ll take care of them!” His voice broke as he said so. They had pulled off their hail mary, and there was no chance of beating them without external aid.

  “How did they recover?” Eva asked, “Do they have regen pills?”

  “Come to think of it, they really shouldn’t have been recovered now either,” Deidre pointed out, but regen pills don’t work that fast — perhaps it’s the masks doing something to them.”

  Alfred chose that moment to leap out of the dust cloud. The ground shattered as he dashed towards Tyrone once again.

  Deidre and Eva charged forward to intercept Quinn before he could do the same.

  The Sloth snickered. His arms crackled and stretched, filled with industria flowing from his mask. They lanced out once more.

  * * *

  The other Legionnaires scattered. Two of them picked up Jackson and headed for the outskirts, where they had hidden the rest of the people.

  Maurice Steyer had been a Legionnaire for five years. He had failed to make the grade for Sabre, had been condemned to a life of relative mediocrity. At first, he had resented his new life, but then he had relaxed into the role. The danger that the Sabres had faced was something that he did not have to contemplate until it had come to his town.

  Even now he dodged bits of debris, refusing to process the image of his mangled captain’s body. Like the others, he ran for the hills, his flight instinct taking over.

  This was too much. Too scary. Too frightening. There was nothing they could do when faced with forces of nature destroying a town.

  Then he saw it. In the distance. More silhouettes rapidly approaching the town. The Sabres had told him there would be no reinforcements so these would be enemies.

  His heart sank.

  * * *

  Wind Bal-

  Tyrone could barely form the attack before Alfred’s fist slammed into his own open palm. The sickening crack had told him all he needed to know before the pain did.

  “I’m not falling for that one again,” Alfred snickered. Another punch.

  He was launched like a rocket, his momentum only stopped by a building. He struggled to stand up as his hulking opponent approaching. He had won before, and he could do so again.

  Alfred leapt towards him. Tyrone pulled all the industria he could manage and flipped over, bringing his leg down like he was axe kicking the air itself.

  Wind Slicer.

  The wind raged and twisted itself into a blade once more, slicing through concrete and steel. Alfred barely had a chance to block it before it sliced him apart, tearing muscle and skin. Blood gushed from his open wounds.
<
br />   Alfred stood in a pool of his own blood.

  Quinn turned towards him, but Eva fired off a few attacks, willing Tyrone to finish his battle and come help them.

  Tyrone breathed a sigh of relief, only for that feeling to turn into dread.

  “You almost had me there, “Alfred sputtered, “Now you get to see how we came back from the dead after you took us out earlier.”

  From behind him, Alfred pulled out another Gorilla mask. Slamming that over his current one, it was instantly absorbed into it, the influx of Industria pouring into his body. His wounds began to seal almost immediately.

  “No,” Eva whispered. A blow struck her from the side. Quinn had taken advantage of her distraction. He smirked.

  It was over in a moment. Before Tyrone could raise a hand, the hulking gorilla had grabbed him, squeezing his chest so hard he heard several more cracks. The pain was unbearable, but he had to escape.

  Tyrone struggled as Alfred held him and slammed him into the ground, over and over. One of his arms broken, a dull ache in his legs, he still struggled, even if it was futile.

  Eva and Deidre were in no better a position. Alfred’s last attack had hit Deidre hard enough to knock her out, and Eva could barely protect her, and keep out of Quinn’s range. His arms extended and he wrapped out among her, grabbing and squeezing with all his might. Her shield began to crack as Quinn squeezed tighter.

  Indolent Squeeze.

  Eva could see the hate in his eyes, even as he remained transformed. She closed her eyes, waiting for it to shatter, and for her to die. For a Legionnaire to die in the field, that was expected, she had done her best, and there was no one who would blame her.

  Tyrone struggled to break Alfred’s grip, earning himself another slam into the ground. As his vision blurred, the only thing he realised was that he was dying a shitty death.

  The air appeared to waver for a moment, then the pressure was gone as Alfred leapt away. A column of fire flashing over where he had just been. Quinn dropped Eva and jumped away as another flame column burned near him as well.

 

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