by Greg Laurel
oPERSONAL DEFENSE CAPABILITY (RECOMMEND RIFLE, SIDEARM, MELEE INSTRUMENT GIVEN USER BIOLOGY)
oPERSONAL FITNESS AND TRAINING EQUIPMENT (RECOMMEND HOLOGRAPHIC ARENA)
“Well, I might just have my work cut out for me,” Miles said.
“I can get you those things so you don’t have to make Earth-based knockoffs. Especially if it’s only you using them,” Veralis mentioned.
“Well, then that would be wonderful,” Miles said, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Now then, you should probably come with me in regards for personal weapons. Tailoring to the user, and all.”
Miles nodded, and Veralis extended her arm, Miles taking it. The two suddenly found themselves in a sort of desert town, definitely on a different planet. One could only say ‘sort of desert town,’ as while the surrounding landscape was indeed sandy dunes and howling winds, the civilization itself clearly used higher technology to protect itself from incurring hostile elements, as if the desert blew around a force field, which was honestly likely the case.
Veralis went up to a vendor at what was likely a market they were standing in, and spoke to... her. Miles seemed to inherently understand what species and gender everyone around him was, likely a facet of The Aura’s gifts. Her indeed, of the Taigron species, appearing to be bipedal tigers. He was starting to like this universe if it were full of creatures like this. Then again, it was most likely that anthropomorphic-based evolution was just a natural advantage in most environments.
“Miles Radien, follow me please,” The Taigron asked of him, and Miles followed. He was soon looking at a massive underground armory and training grounds. “Stand in that scanner?” So he did.
“It’s just taking a basic body profile, figuring out what weapons and weight actually make sense for you, biologically speaking. It’d be pretty dumb to hand you a Kendrosian Volkaskral. You need four arms for those,” Veralis explained.
Miles didn’t even bother asking what the hell a Volkaskral even looked like. The Taigron spoke next.
“Miles, could you uh... describe your melee combat tactics? What kind of weapons do you like up close?” she asked.
“I trained in Eskrima, a martial art from my world. It uh... heavily emphasizes mobility, agility, precision and speed of movement. One of the big tactics is to hit someone’s hand with a stick. Of course, the idea behind it is that anything you can do with a stick, you can do with a sword, knife, your empty hands, even a spear or staff. A stick or sword is basically an extension of your arm, and a knife... well, that’s just more making the reach of your fingertips pointy.”
“Something like this, maybe?” A 3D hologram showed up in front of Miles.
“Well, that’s just a Cutlass. I’ve always liked fighting with those.”
Veralis nodded. “All the fixings. Novasteel, Hunderfold, the whole thing.” The armsmaster wrote that down, clearly understanding what that meant, unlike Miles.
“As for ranged weapons? If you could have any kind of ranged weapon, what would it be? And I don’t mean just names of weapon models, I mean, what would that weapon do?” the armsmaster continued.
“Well, I’d like a rifle to be able to switch between long-range sniping and short-range urban battle. I’d definitely want something that can fit in an ankle holster as well, in case it got that bad.”
“Well, that makes you easier to arm than most,” the armsmaster commented, seemingly relieved. “What do you think, Veralis? For the rifle, probably a Talvakorrik Battle Rifle?”
“No, he wanted configurable for multiple ranges, not just compatible. Orvitarian Collapse Rifle for sure. But definitely a Talvakorrik AZP-621 for his hip or ankle. As for armor... I’d say something that can take the form of his regular clothes. Maybe... Salnweave garments?”
The armsmaster continued with her notes as Veralis placed the order.
“I do have The Aura, you know,” Miles said, noting that armored clothes might not be necessary given his enhanced bodily healing ability. Veralis thought for a moment, then nodded and signaled for the armsmaster to cancel that.
“Defense grid generator for sure, though. One of the Hajivakk ones. Also, one of those detector module glasses, either Redarian or Cynofraxian, whichever generation’s currently got the better functionality.”
“I think the Cynofrax one’s got the edge right now. All tailored, I assume?”
“Aye, all tailored. Scan done?”
The armsmaster looked at a screen, nodded, then motioned for Miles to step down. “We’ll have them in two weeks, tops.” Veralis nodded back to her, and offered her arm again to Miles, and they teleported back to Earth, at the Fourteen Werewolves.
“Well, that was quick,” Miles commented.
“Quick, and very necessary. I’ll get ahold of those tools, and I think I know just which ones would work for you.”
Miles nodded, and Veralis teleported off. A few seconds later, a big sigh from Miles. “Hell of a day, and it’s only really just started.”
He looked at the clock. It wasn’t too long ago that he wished Jarrek and Brian well on their journey.
“I suppose my definition of a day is gonna change with this no-need-to-sleep deal. Definitely not complaining, though.”
Chapter the Sixth
Miles sat at a table in the basement of his shop, having a proper moment of his own for the first time in a while. Between the customers he had, and the help he was giving to those who needed it, he had been rather occupied for the past while, but now he had a moment, closing his eyes and hearing the hum of silence, soon bringing into his vision an effigy of some kind, a sort of ‘advanced imaginary friend’ that he’d just talk to and give updates, and say how he felt about them. He hadn’t summoned the effigy for a while, but now he had some time to talk to his vision of ‘himself but stronger’.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Miles started, to no response. The effigy never responded. He never needed to. “But this is definitely something. I... all the worlds. The worlds in my head. I can live out those silly dreams, that I guess aren’t so silly anymore. A new friend of mine, Veralis, she’s been getting me the tools to make this base properly mine. And I’ve got that shop now! Remember that shop with that utter trash name I dreamed of having? I got it, we’re in the basement now!”
Miles was interrupted by Techbooth informing him that the energy scanner had finished it’s “Scan-Pulse” of the entire planet. It had only taken a while because Miles had told it to do an exceptionally detailed scan, really seeing what was up on this planet. “We’ll talk more later.” He quickly closed his eyes, ‘dismissing’ the effigy, before looking at the screen to see what the scan revealed.
THREE DOMINANT ENERGIES DETECTED
DEMONIC, SUBTYPE “DECEIVER DEMON”
DEMONIC, DARK SIX
AURA UNAREL CYNFRAXA
Miles figured that “Aura Unarel Cynfraxa” meant The Aura, likely in the language it was first described in. He seemed to understand, through that power, that it essentially meant “The power to make all the worlds safe”, though the more literal translation of the precursor language was more “Power, World, People’s Haven”, at least word-for-word. The message was there, though, and that probably was the full proper name of The Aura. But Demonic? Is that what Xenidar was doing a double-take on?
Miles had Techbooth contact Xenidar again, and he quickly answered.
“I’ve made a proper scanner, and here’s the readings.”
Xenidar took a look at them, and sighed. “Yeah, I was worried about that. Basically, you’ve got a literal Demon on your planet. A proper Demon from actual Hell. Specifically, a Deceiver Demon. Infiltrationist of the Burning Hells, and... they’ve got a following.”
Miles was rather confused by this information. “Am I about to find out about and get pulled into a war that’s been going on for a hell of a lot longer than most people have a number for?”
“Yes, and no,” Xenidar explained. “I’m sure you’ve figured there weren
’t always barriers between realms of creation. This was known as the Time of Demons, or some call it the War For Reality. At least, they did, until nowadays, its started to be accepted as the First War For Reality. It was... billions of years ago, and The Aura Prism was made for the purpose of creating and maintaining barriers between reality, and Hell itself, and their masters, the Dark Six. They are the lords of evil, and every depiction of the devil your species might have. I’m looking at your planet’s mythologies right now, and first let me say that the... Norsemen? Orcadian? That general area. Yeah, they’ve got some bangers. Nuckelavee? Basically a Psychosia Demon. Different names for the same creatures and concepts. But anyways, Earth’s currently playing host to a Deceiver Demon, and they’ve been there a long time from the looks of it, gradually implanting themselves in the very culture of the species, practically weaving Demonic energy into the DNA of the race itself. A very slow burn, slow enough that the rest of the universe wouldn’t notice. But it’s also slow enough that it’s not too late for your kin.”
Miles immediately pointed the scanner at himself, configuring it to search for the Demonic energy. It turned up negative.
“Like I said, not too late for your kin,” Xenidar continued. “And also like I said, practically weaving Demonic energy into human DNA. They clearly haven’t succeeded yet.”
“So, what can or should be done? I’m admittedly new to this whole power-wielding deal, and only just found out that Demons are a proper thing, and existential threat,” Miles asked.
“Honestly? The best course of action is to just lay low and help out where you can, at least until something more permanent gets figured out. If Earth does attract outside attention, though, it’s possible the planet might be destroyed if ruled corrupted. And it might not even be an authorized strike, there are plenty who don’t care to take the chance, and the worst part is that they’re not entirely wrong to operate like that.”
Miles thought for a moment. “I’ll do just that. Help out where I can, and make it at least plausible that I don’t have cosmic powers at my back to make it happen. Hopefully, something will figure itself out from there just from the process of progress.”
Xenidar nodded, and switched off his transmission. The door rang again. Some serious timing, Miles thought as he walked upstairs, then immediately sealed off the basement when he saw Malin walk through the door.
“You’re really not easy to find,” Malin commented.
“I don’t like being followed,” Miles asserted. “I believe I made that clear last time.”
“Well, I hope you’ve got something for me in regards to that energy.”
“Bold of you to assume I’m just going to tell you after I believe you agreed to stop fuckin’ following me.”
Malin sighed. “Is this the conversation we’re going to have? Now? How much of the Earth is at stake, and how petty are you willing to be about it?”
“That’s something that right now, only I know. And even then, I’m willing to be just as perceptively petty as you want to lie to yourself about it. I told you I’d give you an answer when I could get it, and no sooner. You’re lucky, because I do have the answer, and you’ve got good timing. You’re also unlucky because right now I feel no obligation to give it to you after you breached our agreement to not. Follow. Me.”
“How much is at stake from that... energy?”
“All of the universe is at stake. Every planet orbiting every star, and every being on all of them are in danger from this energy. And if I showed this to them, that Earth had that energy, they’d know just how much danger they’re in, and they’ll not be taking any chances. Yes, that means they’re going to blow the Earth to dust. So if all reality is at stake, who’s gonna lose sleep over one backwater planet populated exclusively by spiteful, ever-so corruptible manifests of the kind of petty drama that kills so many? The answer is not me.”
Malin stood there, silent, but not stunned.
“Don’t. Follow. Me,” Miles reiterated. “Now then, I’m gonna tell you what exactly this energy is, with the understanding that if you breach this agreement again, I will give this information also to the nearest passing ship with a planet-killing weapon to let them decide what to do about it. They might spare you, they might not. Follow me again, and you’ll be taking that chance.”
A moment passed before Miles spoke again. There were a lot of things Malin could say, but what good would it do?
“What you picked up, wherever it is you did, it’s Demonic. And yes, I mean literal Demons from literal Hell. Whichever image you’ve got in your head about what that looks like, it’s there, along with everyone else’s perceptions of it when they hear the word. Their masters, the ones who create this energy that leaves this trace, are called the Dark Six. They’re the lords of evil, or whatever you wanna call them to prove the point. They’re the big bad of the universe, a threat from outside it, coming in to conquer. So my question is, where did this signature originate?”
“From a single person.” Malin sighed, and put a file folder on the counter Miles was behind. “It wasn’t easy to confirm, either. And I think you can see why.”
The dossier contained information about a single person, a well-known animator and children’s cartoon creator. It appeared to be that she had been using her creations to turn individuals to servitude towards the Dark Six, by lacing the very transmissions that aired the shows with Demonic energy. DVDs of the show, digital downloads, all of them containing just that faintest of traces, enough to exist and be binding.
As it turned out, an estimated eight million people on the planet, likely more, were already Demonic servants. Humans who had their consciousness swapped with a Demon’s, as if remotely controlled all the way from Hell. The process, it seemed, was that all a person had to do was make a verbal declaration of servitude. To say with intent, that they are allying themselves with the Dark Six. But the Deceiver Demon, as Xenidar called it, was clearly clever, lacing Demonic energy into her creations meant that if you so much as declared yourself allied to the creation, it was close enough, and now they had you. But only one of the shows she created had this energy present, likely a ploy to build up her reputation with genuinely harmless creations, and to begin the conversion once everyone’s complacent and accepting of her work. Miles made this clear as he explained to her these findings of his.
“The link is her,” Malin said. “We’ve even figured out that if she dies, the link is severed. All those people lose that energy trace. And from what you tell me, the Demons in their heads are gone.”
“Yes,” Miles said, rubbing his head as if he were about to deliver some bad news. “The problem is that I don’t know what’s going to happen to the people. One possibility is that they’re just gonna get themselves back. However, the more likely outcomes are that they get themselves back, but in the state they were in just before they were converted. This means that people who had been servants of the Dark Six for their entire lives are going to regress back to that... five-year old state they were in when they said they liked the show. It’s also possible that all those people will drop dead.”
“My god,” Malin muttered, genuinely surprised and pained at this knowledge. “This... Demon, has to die. But when it does, up to ten million people drop dead or regress, some maybe only months, but others... possibly a whole lifetime.”
“That’s likely what that Deceiver is counting on,” Miles said. “It’s integrated itself so well and so perfectly into the human race, that even if people know what she looks like without what’s likely a morphic illusion, they get tripped up on the consequences. Maybe they try to find another way, but all that time, one thing is happening: The Demon isn’t being stopped.”
Malin assured that ETAL-RARC would try to come up with a plan, and following the understanding that Miles would be working on and executing his own, left. Thus, Miles had only himself and his thoughts to attend to. Soon, those thoughts came up with that plan of his.
The Deceiver’s identit
y may have been known to Miles and ETAL-RARC, but not the rest of the human race. There was also no way to convince the peoples of Earth that a beloved animator was a Demon taken human form. They had to be shown. Upon the Deceiver’s death, the human race would make its greatest discovery: They are not alone. So far from alone.
Miles figured that there had to be a way to force the Demon out of morphic illusion, and reveal its true form. A few searches on Turazin’s database later, and Miles had his answer: Counter-Catalystic Energy. For all forms of power in the universe, there existed a Counter-Catalyst for it. The opposite of the power’s frequency, as it were. But it was a lot more complicated as a process than that. But there was a known Counter-Catalyst for Demonic energy. If Miles could expose the Demon to the energy, they would be forced to revert to their true form in order to resist the anti-power, or risk a Malign Transformation due to the conflicting powers present. They would die painfully, and become a twisted hybrid of the two forms they tried to hold. Fortunately, this anti-power could be contained as a solid crystal. It would take months for the Atomic Forge that he had made from plans he found on the Galus-Net, but it was something. Miles uploaded the schematic for the Counter-Catalyst to the Forge, and pressed the green button on it.
ESTIMATED TIME TO COMPLETION
106 DAYS
“Sounds about right,” Miles remarked.
Chapter the Seventh
Unil Givalien, ken unil val seyn valn
Unil Giraydien, ken unil rel seyn raydn
Unil Gidokien, ken unil gishal seyn Dokn
Unil Gikalsien, ken unil zholl seyn zholln
Aldka Sehlkavhika, þsehlkoska
Aldka Sehlhaldn, þlurein
Aldka Sehlflown, aldka Sehlakarka
Gidaan taydeltn aravinda Giraydien
Miles woke up from his bed. But The Aura made it so that he didn’t need to sleep... right?
He walked outside the small shed acting as a bedroom next to the Fourteen Werewolves, but something seemed off about the world. Soon, he figured it out. Everything had stopped. The wind, the grass, nothing moved except him. A vision, perhaps? A side effect of his power? An attack?
