The Super Power Saga (Book 3): Fear the Empire

by Jaron Lee Knuth

  It took her some time to dig down deep enough where she could find the sub-level stairwell she was looking for. She slid between the two bent girders and dropped down onto the stairs. Her watch lit up the chamber with a flashlight and she peered through the dust, trying to find the sign that would tell her what floor she was on. She smeared her hand across the wall and found the sign under a thick layer of soot and grime. The number 3 appeared underneath, and she continued down the stairs for two more floors.

  Halfway between sub-level 5 and 6, she found the wall. She removed a brick and exposed the retina scanner underneath, but it was a black, powerless screen. She accessed the wireless network from her watch and triggered a hidden subsystem in the old MajesTech network that activated the emergency generator built into her secret site. The retina scanner blinked to life, running through its reboot before throwing out a red light. She leaned in and allowed the light to scan her, then waited for the familiar chime of recognition.

  When the sound dinged, the entire wall slid to the side, revealing another set of stairs. As she descended toward the doorway at the bottom, lights activated as they sensed her approach. The room she entered was small in comparison to most of the rooms in the tower. The style of the tower was extravagant, but she didn't want such a large gap in the blueprints to alert the prying eyes of her husband. She built her secret chamber just big enough to house her computer system and the large battle-suit that sat against one wall.

  It was intimidating just to look at, even if you didn't know the arsenal of weapons that were hidden underneath its armored shell. It stood nearly eight feet tall, the green steel glimmered in the light, still perfectly waxed in its airtight, bulletproof glass-enclosed compartment. She had begun its design as a version 2.0 of the original Knight Wolf armor. But as the partnership between her and Hector grew, they had both realized they needed to focus on stealth over firepower, therefore turning her designs toward the face-masking business suits she eventually created for him and Miguel. As good as those suits worked for them, she always kept the battle-suit on the back burner, creating advancements for it here and there, just in case of an emergency. Her heart told her that someday she'd reveal it to Hector, when he needed it most, but her logic-based brain told her to keep it a secret, in case she ever needed to take him down.

  Now she looked up at the massive, tank-like armor, as her last hope. Fate hadn't given her the edge that the diseased flaunted like a gift from the heavens, so she created her own blessing. It would give her the power to finish the job, finalize the death of the Zharkovs, and place her back in a position of power, where she knew she belonged.

  But she wasn't going to be dumb about it either. She wouldn't let her feelings get in the way. They told her to run off and knock down the doors of that throne room, blasting the last of the Zharkovs with every weapon she had designed. She wanted to unleash her technological fury at the very men and women who had taken everything from her. But that was idiotic. That would get her nowhere. Even if she succeeded, there was always someone else with an SPMD that would gladly rule over the Empire. No. She needed to be smart. She needed to use the skills she had honed throughout her life to regain what she had lost, and take back even more.

  She sat down in front of the computer screen and turned on the power, listening as each fan started to whir and each hard drive began to spin. A few beeps and boops later and she was staring at the home screen. With a few more taps on the keyboard, she searched for access to her offsite, underground database and smiled when the search window appeared.

  “You didn't take everything, you bastards.”

  It was all there. Every scrap of information she had taken from her deep data-mining program. Every phone call flagged for keywords, every photograph taken with a MajesTech phone, without the user realizing their phone was even turned on. She had dirt on everyone, and she wasn't afraid to use it. As soon as people knew she had proof of every indiscretion, secret, and lie they told, they were willing to do anything to protect themselves. This was her master stroke. This is how she would rule the world. Information was god.

  She typed in the name of the man she needed, the man whose side she would take in the war, the only one at that moment who could possibly win. Katsu Oshiro.

  His father and mother murdered. His wife, son, and unborn child murdered. The man was most-likely a basket case of emotions, and she could manipulate every one of them. But she needed ammunition. And she needed to be careful.

  A list of records filled the screen. Thankfully, even the Oshiro dynasty had abandoned their own mobile platform, once the family focused their innovations on military applications. The microchips and cameras in MajesTech phones were still cutting edge, even in Neo-Nippon.

  The screen laid out every juicy detail in front of her, sorted by her own priority list. As she scrolled through each document, she marked the ones she could use, taking special note of Katsu's personal records. It was easy to find the information she needed, the things he would never want the public to know. It always was. Men were all the same.

  With a few more taps on the keyboard, she opened up the video conferencing program and dialed his personal number. It was only available to a select few people, but it took little effort for her to find. The screen beeped, letting her know his tablet was beeping on the other end, and in a few seconds, a servant appeared on the screen.

  “Odenwa arigatou gozaimasu.”

  It was an older form of Neo-Nipponese, one which Esmeralda was only slightly familiar with. Most business situations were conducted in a newer form, or in the Imperial language, but she knew enough of it to understand they were thanking her for the call, without knowing who had called. She could see the young man who claimed to be Emperor in the background, so she wasted no time with small talk.

  “Put Emperor Katsu on. Now.”

  The servant nervously glanced over his shoulder, then back at the screen.

  “I apologize, but who may I say is calling?”

  She used to be so much more patient, knowing when to show emotion and when to hold it back. But she had been pushed too far to hold back anything anymore.

  “Tell him I know about Tobita Shinchi.”

  She said it loud enough that Katsu heard the words come from the screen across the room. Whatever conversation he was having halted as his head spun toward her. Katsu cast his hand into the air, waving away the matter he was attending to, and strode over to the servant holding the tablet. There was a brief exchange of whispers between the two men before the servant bowed to his Emperor and cleared the room.

  Katsu peered into the screen, his eyes squinting as he tried to see through her pixelated image, a filter she had applied to the call.

  “Who is this? How did you get this number?”

  “My name isn't important. And neither are the means in which I acquire my information. All you need to know right now, is that I am an ally.”

  He glanced around, making sure the room was truly empty. “You said-”

  “Something I am sure you do not want me to say again. Am I correct?”

  “You say you are an ally, yet you threaten me with blackmail?”

  “I do not want to threaten you with anything, your royal highness.”

  His face hardened as he pushed his pride to the side. “And what is it you do want?”

  “I want to help you win the war.” Esmeralda smiled. “I want to help you kill the rest of the Zharkovs.”

  7

  CARMEN

  The transport craft lifted off from the landing pad of the Grand Citadel with a smooth expulsion of smoke from the jet engines on either side. Carmen felt her stomach drop as they ascended higher into the clouds, then forward as the engines rotated. The craft rocketed through the sky, toward the southern parts of the Fatherlands.

  “Apologies for the delay, my liege.” the pilot spoke over the speakers near the seats where Carmen and Maksim sat. “There are a lot more security protocols in place from the transport crafts since
...”

  “I understand,” Maksim said, letting the pilot's awkward referral to the attack on the Citadel slide. “I'm sure the citizens will wait for us.”

  “This feels strange,” Carmen said to her husband. “I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do at a funeral procession, much less what I'm supposed to say.”

  Carmen hadn't felt right all morning. Her nerves had twisted into knots at the thought of such a public performance. One of the blessings of Magda not trusting her was the fact that the matriarch never asked Carmen to do anything in front of the public. Smiling for the camera was the extent of her royal duties.

  Maksim touched her knee, engulfing it in his hand. “Just follow my lead.”

  “Have you done anything like this before?”

  Maksim looked off into the distance for a moment before he answered. “There was a procession for my father, but I was very young.”

  “Oh...” Carmen felt foolish, bringing up such a painful memory on an already painful day. “I'm sorry. I'm being selfish, making this about me.”

  “It's okay.”

  His gentle tone let her know he really meant it.

  “This whole thing is just... unbelievable. It was the last thing I was worried about. Your family... I just thought they would always be there, you know?”

  “We spent a lot of time making people believe we were invincible.” Maksim lifted his hand from her knee. “Apparently, we bleed like anyone else.”

  “Stop it. You know that's not exactly true. Your family is still the most powerful family in the world. Just because some maniac found a magic sword that can cut your skin-”

  “Magic?”

  “Well, whatever it was...”

  “But that's just it, my love. If that sword exists-”

  “Azakor destroyed the sword, didn't he?”

  “We couldn't break it, so he threw it into space. It won't hurt us again, but that's not my point. What I'm saying is: If something like that sword existed, what else is out there that could hurt us?”

  She had never seen fear like that in her husband's eyes. It was like he had never felt scared before. She wanted to assure him, to make him feel safe again, but she was at a loss for words. She could barely keep up with everything that was happening in the family, much less the Empire.

  She squeezed his arm. “Don't let the people see you like this. Give them confidence. Remind them who the Zharkovs are.”

  Maksim nodded with understanding, then looked down at her belly. “Our child will remind them. They will see there is still a future, no matter how much of our family we lost.”

  Carmen wrapped her arms around her belly, feeling the movements of the child inside. It still felt so unreal, like she wasn't sure it was actually hers. It wasn't a disconnect. In fact, she had never felt so connected to anything in the world. It had just happened so quickly, her mind hadn't caught up to it yet.

  She was pregnant. There was a baby inside of her. She was carrying the most powerful human being the world had ever known. It was a lot to comprehend.

  “My... my liege?” The pilot's voice sounded panicked. “There's... a problem. On the ground.”

  Maksim peered out the window, but they were still above the clouds. “What is it? What's happening?”

  “It's... It's the funeral procession. There was... an attack.”

  “What are you talking about? What kind of attack?”

  “It sounds like... I think it was your nephew.”

  Maksim's face was stricken with both fear and confusion. All Carmen could do was let the name fall from her lips.

  “Yuri...”

  “Why would he attack the funeral procession?”

  Carmen placed her palm against the chest plate of Maksim's armor. “You need to go.”

  He glanced out the window again, then down at her belly. “I'm not leaving you.”

  “I'll be fine. Just go.”

  Maksim defiantly folded his massive arms across his chest.

  “Maksim, you need to-”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you. I won't lose anyone else.”

  She wanted to argue, to tell him he was being illogical. He had a duty to the people. He was the Guardian of the Empire. Even if it was his own nephew he needed to protect them from, he still needed to be there to save them. But she knew he wouldn't listen. He had made his choice a long time ago. She was the most important thing in the world to him. He had put her before his family, and before his Empire. That was a love she had never felt before. So instead, she held his hand, sharing his fear for what they were flying into.

  It only took another fifteen minutes before the transport craft was landing in the city. It was one of the more affluent parts of the Fatherlands, mostly controlling the banking and government councils, and it showed. Tall buildings designed with pre-imperial architecture and cobblestone streets that wrapped around massive Zharkovian statues. But all that urban beauty was lost in the gore that spread across the city.

  Carmen had to cover her mouth to stop herself from vomiting as they got close enough for her to make out the details. Yuri hadn't only murdered the citizens of the city, he had displayed their corpses. Entrails hung from lampposts. Bodies were impaled on fences. Heads were stacked in piles. Blood was smeared across walls in the shape of the letter Z.

  As soon as the door opened, the smell hit them. Death hung in the air like humidity in the summer, thick and potent. Birds pecked at the dead meat and flies were already swarming. There was no way to count, but Carmen knew the city's population was nearly 750,000 people.

  “Why would he do this?” she whimpered.

  A soldier stepped out of the transport behind them, tapping on the screen of a MajesTech tablet. “Reports say there was a small group of protesters at the funeral procession. They seemed peaceful, but started throwing fruit as the caskets went by.”

  Carmen glanced around again, taking in more details. She saw the group of soldiers that had paraded with the funeral down the street, all of them flattened against the cobblestone, but she did not see the caskets.

  “Yuri attacked the protesters?” Maksim asked, still staring wide-eyed at the bloody scene.

  “That's who he started with, yes. But... this all happened within twenty minutes.”

  Carmen's mouth was hanging open. “He did all this? In twenty minutes?”

  “That's what it says.”

  “That's impossible, isn't it? I know he's a Zharkov, but no one could do this much damage that quickly.”

  Maksim rose off the ground, surveying the surrounding area from higher up. “You didn't feel his strength when he punched me in the throne room. There's something different about Yuri. Something more powerful than any of us.”

  Maksim pointed off in the distance. “I see smoke. Something is burning.”

  It was surprising, because with all the death and massacred bodies, the buildings still stood. The power was still on. The infrastructure of the city was nearly untouched.

  Before Carmen could react, Maksim swept her into the air and carried her toward the plume of smoke that erupted from a street a few blocks away. When they crested the nearby building, they both saw the source of the fire. A pile of caskets, three in total, sat in the center of a small park, flames curling around the edges, and standing next to them, holding a blazing torch, was Yuri. His tiny body was covered in the blood of the city. He wore pajamas, now torn and ragged, with the Zharkovian Empire's flag draped over his shoulders like a cape.

  Maksim landed hard on the ground, but Yuri didn't even look up. His gaze seemed lost in the fire, like he was staring through it, seeing visions in the flames.

  “What have you done?” Maksim roared as he set Carmen down and stepped toward the boy.

  Yuri still did not respond, but when Maksim grabbed for the torch in his hand, Yuri lashed out with his flattened palm, slamming it into Maksim's chest. Maksim shot across the park and slammed into a building, casting out a cl
oud of debris. A rumble shook the ground as the entire building collapsed around him. Only seconds later, he shot out from the pile of brick and mortar and dropped back down into the park. Carmen put out her hand to stop him from lunging at the boy.

  “Yuri?” She said his name softly. “Yuri... will you talk to us? Please?”

  Yuri's eyelids fluttered for a second before he looked up at her.

  “Yuri... what happened? Why did you do this?”

  Yuri looked back down at the flames again, like he was contemplating his answer, before he said, “These bodies don't belong to them.”

  Carmen glanced at the burning caskets then back to Yuri. “What does that mean?”

  He pointed at the fire. “They're my family. I get to have a funeral. Not these... animals.”

  Carmen took a step toward him, but when he flinched, she stepped back. “Yuri... you are royalty. These people... your family is a part of their lives. We were only trying to give them a moment to grieve.”

  “Grieve?” His eyes flashed toward her, no longer filled with an empty gaze, but instead full of hate and anger. “They mocked us. They attacked us. They deserved what I did to them. All of them. You're worried about me burning bodies? The world should burn for this.”

  Maksim shouted past Carmen, “You're only causing more problems! You need to come home so we can try to fix this.”

  “Home? A home is for a family. My family is dead. I have no home.”

  “Your father is still alive. Your sister is still-”

  “For how long?” he screamed, throwing the torch onto the caskets. “We're being killed, one by one. Soon we'll all be gone and all that will be left are these stupid, weak little creatures. You're going to let them win because all you do is sit around and argue. Well, guess what? They're not going to kill me, Uncle. Do you know why?”