by Azalea Ellis
I attacked to kill. No hesitation. Chaos flew forward, wrapping around her and tearing her body apart, eating right through it.
She disintegrated, little pieces falling to the ground where she’d stood.
I stepped forward, frowning. The disintegration, I’d expected. The wiggling of the pieces remaining? Not so much.
The hair on the back of my neck rose up as little bugs regained their feet, some of them missing legs or pieces of their worm-like bodies. They skittered around mindlessly, searching for cover.
In the corner of my eye, I saw dark movement. I looked up.
Bugs streamed across the floor, seeming to appear out of thin air. They coalesced into a form, building into a mound that turned humanoid surprisingly quickly.
I wondered if I was somehow dreaming again. Because how could this be real? We were on Earth, and things like this didn’t happen on Earth, outside of dreams.
The outer shell settled, color spreading across the tiny bugs that made up her skin and clothing as they locked themselves together again.
She, I only then realized, was touching Bobbus.
Kris had had the good sense to toss herself backward and away from both of them, luckily.
The guard’s back arched.
The creature wearing Chanelle’s form stepped behind him and used him like a shield, or a hostage, as the Sickness ate at Bobbus with vicious suddenness. His eyes rolled back in his head as his stomach distended and the skin split from the stretching.
Then, the creature tossed the guard forward, toward me.
Another body threw itself forward, tackling Bobbus away from me. It was the female guard that I’d set to barricading the stairwell. She must have followed us at some point. She snapped her fellow guard’s neck with a twitch of her fingers, then tossed his body away with her Skill. “Are you harmed, Eve-Redding?”
I waved my hand in a calming motion toward her, then looked to Chanelle, who was smiling calmly. “Who are you?”
Chanelle smiled even wider. When she spoke, the voice of a man came from her throat. “You don’t even know who you’ve declared war on? You vowed to eradicate me from existence. Ring any bells?”
Blood rushed through my head, the sound of my own heartbeat almost overwhelming in my ears. “The Sickness?” I whispered.
He laughed and held his hand up, letting bugs crawl up his palm and form into a lance, almost indistinguishable from the one we’d received from the God of Shaping and Molding. “Yes, though in the old tales, I am called Pestilence. You’ve gotten cleverer, godling. Learning to create is a big step. But you’ll never be able to cleanse faster than I can destroy, and you’ve made too many mistakes.” He crushed the lance, and it turned back into a mass of bugs, crawling out between his clenched fingers.
I lashed forward with Chaos, letting it spring out of me without moving a muscle to announce the attack. My mind spun with the revelation. The Sickness wasn’t a disease, not like we’d thought. It was a being. Like a god. A sentient being.
He fell apart again, not even bothering to dodge. It didn’t matter, apparently, as once again bugs crawled out of the walls and from the air itself, and there he stood, unruffled.
I was afraid. “What do you want?” I tried to make the words a demand—confident, angry –but my voice cracked.
He waved a hand.
With that casual gesture, the guard who’d thrown herself in harm’s way to save me was infected. Her arms and legs withered away, her tongue stuck out grotesquely, swelled, and turned purple along with her veins. She died, her body slumping like a mush-filled balloon, stinking goo spilling out of her orifices.
Pestilence’s smile turned into a snarl, like a flash of lightning across Chanelle’s cherubic face. “My power is greater than even the so-called Champion’s. Do you think your will can stand against me? Without a piece of his conviction, you cannot even resist the tiniest fraction of my influence.”
Without warning or signal, every sick person within five meters threw themselves at me.
I lashed out with Chaos, and Zed shot tranquilizer bolts through a rip near the wall, while Sam stumbled out of that same rip and returned to putting people to sleep, his body steaming with the sudden change from cold to warm.
Birch held one wing a little gingerly and some of his feathers stuck out haphazardly, but with a warbling yowl, wind cut across the room like a scythe, first slamming into the heads of the infected, then rolling off the far wall and heading back to swipe their feet out from under them.
While I fought, I yelled to Kris, who’d pressed herself into a corner. “Get out of here. Find one of the guards to protect you and run.” I hoped at least one of the Estreyans was still alive. Judging by the sounds of fighting down below, I thought there must be.
When the wave of attacks died down, I whirled around frantically, looking for Pestilence. I found him at the edge of the quarantine room where Torliam was futilely tending to Gregor, as well as Jacky and Adam. I pushed my Wraith Skill out as far as I could, searching for the glow of power that would give away where Pestilence’s strength was held, an actual weakness that I could disintegrate. I found nothing, not even a hint of power in the already reforming body halfway across the room.
Pestilence thrust his arm against the plastine wall, and the appendage collapsed as the bugs lost structure. They coalesced from nothing on the other side of the barrier and Torliam’s shield, reforming his arm before I could call out a warning. The appendage reached forward and tore the lance from Torliam’s grip, so fast and inexorably that my brain could barely process what was happening before it was already over. Pestilence’s hand reformed attached to his body, and the lance was in it.
Zed cried out in dismay and shot a steady stream of familiar bullets, the ones Blaine had created that folded and twisted in on themselves in a way that defied physics and hurt my eyes. Zed must have been saving them for an emergency.
Pestilence was gone by the time they reached where his body had been. The bugs reformed a couple arms’ lengths in front of me, on top of some of the bodies I’d felled in a ring around myself.
The horde of people stopped attacking again, just standing there, facing me creepily.
Pestilence held up the lance, as if examining it in the light. “I’ve been watching you for a long time, when I was able. I saw faintly out of the eyes of those who’d fallen more deeply under my influence, and followed the talk of your progress from ear to ear. It was really quite amusing, how the mortal gods led you on such a merry adventure, trying once again to create the being that could lead to my end. I’ll admit, I did have a few moments of concern, and I even set myself to destroying the Spire. But look, all you have is a little toy. I needn’t have bothered.”
Torliam’s power lashed through the air like a giant pincer.
Pestilence scattered and reformed, unperturbed. He looked to Torliam and smirked. “Oh, did you think this was a cure?” He laughed. “A cure doesn’t exist. This is merely a temporary counter to my influence. Your Champion, that puny god, thought he would shield himself within another realm, but my power comes from a greater source than his. Even the most powerful of your mortal gods cannot defy me. They run from me, and fall to my influence. And you, so helpfully, brought me with you as you searched for a cure. For I am part of you.” He whispered the last sentence, his words twisting into an echo that tickled the inside of my ears and made me want to claw it out.
The remaining infected turned toward me, those who’d been downed but not killed rising again, no matter the severity of their injuries.
Still in the corner, Kris waved her arm in a wide arc, the tendons in her neck straining. Half the remaining infected fell to the ground, like puppets who’d had their strings cut. She’d done something similar to me in the Yggdrasil Trial, but I hadn’t realized the utility of the ability.
Pestilence blinked once, and then twice, the semblance of Chanelle’s face losing all expression.
Torliam burst out of the quarantine
room, a shield rushing to cover Kris as he sprinted with superhuman speed toward the Sickness’ manifestation. He roared, lashing out with a spear of sky blue that pierced right through the spot where Pestilence’s heart should have been.
I lashed out with Chaos, even as Torliam’s blue-girded fist smashed through his head. “Kris, run!” I screamed. I sprinted forward, throwing myself over downed bodies and bowling across the infected who still stood, eerily motionless.
Kris was running toward Zed, who’d opened a portal for her halfway between the hallway and the quarantine room.
Birch created a burst of wind behind the girl that sent her flying toward safety. It wasn’t enough.
Pestilence reformed, arm already outstretched, pointing toward the girl.
I sent cords of condensed Chaos lancing forward, so quickly my eye couldn’t follow them, and heated the air so fast when they reached him that it exploded inside him, sending bugs bursting outward.
Pestilence reformed, right where he had been, almost faster than he’d been ripped apart. His hand still pointed at Kris.
Zed shot at him over Kris’ head. His bullets moved too slowly through the air.
Kris buckled. She fell.
I wrapped her in a shell of solidified Chaos strands, their black filaments pulsing with all the power I could give them. I did the same to Pestilence, but crushed inward with that shell, squeezing and disintegrating in equal measure, making sure not the tiniest bit of a single bug escaped destruction. When there was nothing left inside, I set the entire structure alight with the black flames of remaking that I’d used to cleanse the God of Knowledge.
Kris screamed. Her head jerked backward and then forward, cracking against the floor. The impact didn’t stop her, as her limbs contorted into impossible positions.
Bugs appeared from nothing, forming on the ground and flying through the air in another part of the room, closer to the door.
I released the ineffectual shield and threw myself forward onto the tile. My body slid into hers and I grabbed at her arms, pulling her toward me and trying to keep her from breaking herself to pieces.
Zed screamed, turning to the newly reforming bugs and blasting them apart, one bullet after another.
Torliam’s power filled the entire room with a glow of blue mist. Around me, the infected screamed as he crushed them to death, even as he tore at Pestilence’s body desperately.
But that wasn’t Pestilence’s body, was it? He’d said his power came from somewhere greater than the gods’. I sensed no Seeds in him, no glow, no point of weakness. So how were we to defeat him? The only possible way we lived through this is if we ran away, so fast he couldn’t find us, hiding away from the eyes of any who carried his influence, his disease.
Kris gasped. Her eyes locked on mine, and then rolled back in her head. Her veins blackened and withered. Her head jerked forward and she bit into my forearm, blunt teeth sinking deep with the strength of her gnashing jaw. She convulsed again, tearing a chunk of skin and a little muscle away.
She left a couple teeth in me, loosened from her swollen, blackening gums. Another deep breath in, and she screamed, the sound gurgling out around the blood and meat in her mouth.
Pinocchio tugged frantically at her arm.
I turned, searching for the lance.
Pestilence walked up from behind me, holding it in Chanelle’s small hand.
Zed stopped shooting, and Torliam ceased his own attacks. The decoy pile of bugs in front of them stopped trying to form into anything and scattered mindlessly.
Pestilence laughed again, like he thought he was clever. He held up the lance. “You thought to free my people? Savior?” Suddenly he was snarling. He clenched his fist, and the lance crumbled into dust.
Beneath me, Kris’ body relaxed, slumping down onto the cold tile floor. No breath, no heartbeat, no life.
Pestilence leaned forward, putting his familiar, almost-seamless face too close to mine. “You thought to make my people rejoice?” He howled the word like it was a curse. “Now they lament.” He reached forward and slammed his hand into my head, knocking me backward.
I felt the skin on my forehead warp and crinkle like old papyrus, crumbling off me in little chunks.
Zed screamed like an animal, no longer bothering to shoot. He ran forward, gripping his gun like a club.
Jacky’s body rose from the ground where she’d been laid in the quarantine cell, unconscious after Sam’s attention. That didn’t seem to matter, as she sprang forward with superhuman speed, fairly flying through the air. She grew, then used her fists to smash through the plastine. It shattered easily beneath her reinforced blows.
Torliam spun toward her, lashing out with his power since he was too far away to stop her physically.
She grew, gaining a couple more feet in a tenth of a second, and jerked around Torliam’s shield with a zig-zag. She stumbled in a way she wouldn’t have if healthy, but still met Zed at full speed. Her black-veined arm swung around and crashed into him, snapping his ribs like candy-canes.
His movement was completely arrested, for a single moment, as he bowed forward around her arm. Then, he flew backward and smashed into the wall with a wet thud like a bursting watermelon.
“Die.” The Sickness said, smiling gleefully down at me. Then he disintegrated, leaving not a single bug or faint trace of his presence behind.
I stared into the air where Pestilence had been for a couple heartbeats, then looked down, to what had once been Kris.
I blinked.
The drought spread through my face. My veins burned, my skin flaking away behind it. My eyelids fell off, so that I couldn’t block myself off from the horror, even for the space of a blink.
There were sounds around me, maybe voices, but it was like they were in slow motion. I couldn’t understand them.
A hand gripped my arm, and I looked up into Zed’s face. I knew he was talking because his mouth was moving. “Please don’t die, Eve. Don’t die. Just tell me how to help you, tell me what to do.”
Sam’s hand was on the back of Zed’s neck, and I could hear the shifting and joining of my brother’s bones as he healed. Still, he was hurt. He shouldn’t be moving.
Torliam’s huge body collapsed onto its knees beside me.
I looked between them, my heartbeat speeding up in my ears as the world came back into focus. “Are you alright?” I said, looking up at Zed.
His jaw clenched so hard it looked like he might break his teeth, but he nodded.
Torliam grabbed my other arm and helped me carefully to my feet.
I looked over at Jacky, and found her standing still, gnawing on her own hand. “We need to restrain them, so they don’t hurt themselves,” I murmured.
“What about you?” Zed said.
I would have blinked, if I could. “Restraints won’t work on me. Chaos, remember?” I looked down at Kris’ body again, and carefully walked around it, moving toward Jacky.
At my request, Zed, Sam, and Torliam helped me bind up our remaining teammates so they didn’t hurt themselves if the hunger got too bad.
I knew they were all dead, or as good as. Same as me. I was only prolonging what little time we had left.
Torliam started talking, but I couldn’t concentrate on his words. “Can you use Chaos to heal yourself? To burn away the infection, as you did the god’s?” His skin looked so healthy, despite the faint layer of sweat and grime.
My mouth watered.
Zed put his arm on my shoulder to get my attention, and I lashed out at him, almost scoring him with my claws.
I glared at him, chest heaving as my breaths came faster, hissing through my teeth like the anger hissed through my veins. “Get back,” I snarled. I knew I didn’t actually want to hurt him. Or to eat him. Even though I could feel my insides dissolving for the need of more energy, more power. I could get it if I ate him, I knew. I stepped backward, trying to convince my anger that it would be sated if I moved away, instead of toward him.
W
as there nothing I could do? No one who could help us now? Where was the God of Shaping and Molding when you needed him?
THE REMNANTS
FIND THE REMNANTS AND CONVINCE THEM TO LEND THEIR AID AGAINST PESTILENCE.
COMPLETION REWARD: ANOTHER WEAPON IN THE GREAT WAR
NON-COMPLETION PENALTY: DEATH
I almost laughed. Torliam had searched for the Remnants already, and found nothing, as if something was blocking his Skill. And even if we could find them, how long would it take? I could feel the Sickness spreading through me, too rapidly to resist. I wouldn’t be there to meet them. But maybe they could help the others. “Find the Remnants,” I said to Torliam through the numb remnants of my lips. “They can help.”
Zed was crying.
I held back a vicious snarl and threw myself toward one of the plastine quarantine rooms. The smartglass pad by the door beeped and accepted the vicious poking of my fingers as I coded it for no release. “If I break out, kill me,” I said, turning toward Torliam.
His face was white beneath the tan and the beard. He said something, but I still wasn’t listening. Couldn’t focus.
I stepped forward, and the door closed behind me. At first, I paced back and forth. But the rage was strong, and all I wanted was to rip the building apart around me. To go out there and tear the flesh from their worthless bodies so that for once it could do something useful by sustaining me.
So I turned and tucked myself into the corner, sliding down till my raw face pressed painfully into the armor over my knees.
I hid away from the light and sunk into myself to try and escape from the pain, the hunger, and the hatred.
I drifted into the world of my mind, standing in front of a familiar stone wall and wearing a body no longer my own.
I blinked.
The stone of the dream construct wall looked like it had been mortared together with iron and had started to rust. Or, more morbidly, it looked like it was bleeding from every crack. The wall stretched up and around, and I knew that it had no gate. I’d built it to be impenetrable, not to let things in and out.
