by Chris Fox
“We’ve battled before, Set. Have you forgotten? Perhaps if you removed the helmet occasionally you could see the scar I gave you all those millennia ago,” Anubis taunted, enjoying it perhaps more than he should.
“Ah, I forget,” Set said, barking out a sudden laugh. He reached up with both hands, removing the demonic helm and tucking it under one arm.
All mirth crumbled to ash. Set had been handsome once, perhaps the most handsome of all the gods, excepting only Osiris. The only thing marring that had been the single scar on his right cheek, a wound Anubis had the dubious honor of having given him. The scar was gone. Everything that had made Set human was gone.
A bulbous head of ashen grey housed eyes of flat black, and Anubis found his death reflected there. Set smiled, a sea of shark fangs glittering as he spoke. “You’ve slumbered for thirteen millennia, jackal. I have not. See the changes the Builders have wrought. See what I have become, the power I now wield.”
“What are you?” Anubis took a cautious step backwards.
“You ask the wrong question,” Set said, stepping forward with a terrible smile. “What am I becoming? The progeny of the Builders have shared much with me. I am being shaped into their image, so that I might join the Builders when they return. All that I do, I do to further the return.”
“As a slave?” Anubis growled, spitting in the dust at Set’s feet.
“Oh no,” Set corrected, taking a step closer. He waved a hand dismissively, and Nephthys retreated to a safe distance. “As an overseer. I will enslave mankind to my will. All will become demons, an extension of my mind. Those who do not will be slain. I will present a vast army to the Builders upon their return, to execute their will in reshaping this world.”
Prudence said Anubis should have let Set come to him, that he should have waited as long as possible to prolong the battle. Yet he could not. Everything in him cried out to end the abomination before him. He charged, executing a hundred-blade attack.
Countless images burst from him, each a perfect mirror, down to the fan-bladed axe. The images attacked from a hundred directions. Only one was real, but to deal with that attack the victim had to be able to pick out the real Anubis. It had been precisely this attack that had given Set the scar all those centuries ago.
Set simply vanished. A hundred copies of Anubis struck nothing but empty air. He took a moment to regain his balance, then began to spin. Set was behind him, and he was already attacking. His gauntleted fist punched through Anubis’s chest, ripping out his heart.
Anubis stumbled back, propping himself up with his axe. As a deathless he no longer had a heart that beat, but the blow still staggered him. He expected Set to press the attack, but instead the abomination began eating his heart. Slowly, as if relishing a great treat.
Anubis roared, blurring toward Set in a fury. This time his attack was unsubtle, but as fast as he could make it. As expected, Set disappeared again. This time Anubis studied the movement. He wasn’t blurring. He was in one place, then he was in another. Just like a vampire.
Again Anubis attacked, a powerful strike, as fast as he could make it. Again Set teleported, laughing this time. That laughter ended when Anubis drove his axe backwards, ramming the second axe head through Set’s chest. Armor crunched, twisting as the sunsteel found flesh.
He capitalized on the attack, swinging a clawed hand at Set’s still exposed face. He felt a moment’s elation, but then Set’s jaw distended. His mouth opened impossibly wide, and he struck like a snake, snapping his jaws around Anubis’s outstretched hand. There was a moment’s pain, then Anubis fell back with a roar as he stared at the stump where his hand had been.
Set gave him no quarter, driving brutally forward. He slammed a gauntleted hand into Anubis’s jaw, shattering it and knocking him backward. Set snatched Anubis’s fan axe out of the air, whirling it over his own head once, then down in a low sweep. The move severed both Anubis’s legs at the knees, spilling his mangled body to the dusty earth.
Anubis used his one good arm to pull himself backward, but it was a feeble gesture. He was about to die, and he knew it.
“Not so, jackal,” Set said, leaning close with that bizarre, alien grin. By Ra, was Set in his head somehow? That was a trick for Ka-Duns, yet he’d clearly heard Anubis’s thoughts. He displayed powers from Isis, Osiris, and Ra. What did that mean? “Oh, yes, jackal. I can hear your thoughts. But what you will find more terrifying? I can control them as well.”
Set plunged all five fingers of one hand into Anubis’s chest. White fire flooded Anubis’s body, and his back arched. He screamed and screamed, praying for death.
Chapter 61- A Fitting Fate for Baldy
Irakesh came to with a groan, pulling himself from under a singed section of the pavilion. Everything ached, especially his head. He stared around dumbly, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Smoke rose in little plumes, a whole sea of them. Each came from a cooked corpse, a mixture of humans, anakim, and…worse things. One looked like a creature he’d heard of but never seen, one he’d longed to test himself against. A dragon. The corpse had no head, and its sickly green blood had congealed into a great stinking pool around its body.
“Hello, nephew,” came a feminine voice from behind him. Irakesh froze, unable to even turn and face the voice. He recognized it from his early childhood, and it still terrified him. “Are you not happy to see me?”
You must face her, and quickly, my host. Convince her you are her servant, or she will burn us to ash.
Irakesh turned, painting a smile on his face. “Ahh, Aunt Nephthys. You are looking radiant. It would seem you and Mother had a bit of a disagreement.”
“Not so,” Nephthys said, cocking her head to the side. She wore form-fitting black armor, a million tiny scales much like that of the dead dragon. The armor highlighted her generous curves, but one look at the inhuman face erased any beauty an observer may have found there. Ebony eyes, lacking an iris or cornea, latched onto him. Her skin was the pallid white of a new corpse, her head disproportionate to her body. Somehow the worst part was her hair, which had fallen out save for a few stringy patches of grey. “We were in perfect agreement. She ran like a frightened child, so I didn’t kill her.”
“Ahh,” Irakesh said, feeling queasy in a decidedly un-deathless-like way.
“Husband,” Nephthys called, her melodious voice at odds with that strange face. She turned to face another figure, one that would have made Irakesh wet himself were he still human.
Set approached, face grim. What a face it was, too. It looked almost exactly like Ka, the servant the Builders had left behind. Save where Ka appeared harmless, Set was terrifying. It meant Set was shaping his helixes to match that of the Builders.
Set carried a limp body in his hand, dragging it through the dirt as he approached. Irakesh blinked, recognizing Steve’s bloody form. Steve still breathed, but he hung there limply. Set had a hand around the back of Steve’s neck, his fingers curled around the golden collar, which he was using to carry the Ka-Dun.
“Ahh, nephew,” Set said, tossing Steve at Irakesh’s feet. “I can see by the bracelet on your wrist that I’ve found something that belongs to you.”
“Erk,” Irakesh said, staring down at Steve. He could tell the Ka-Dun was awake, but Steve lay there as if unconscious. Irakesh envied him that. He looked back up at Set. “Y-yes. The Ka-Dun belongs to me.”
“I see,” Set said, wrapping an arm around Nephthys’s waist. His voice was warm and friendly. “Tell me, nephew. Would you like to continue your wretched existence?”
“Of course,” Irakesh said, wiping soot from his forehead with the back of his hand. How was he going to get out of this situation? He looked around, but all of his allies were gone. He was well and truly on his own.
“Excellent, I’m pleased to hear that,” Set said, giving him a truly alarming smile. “Swear fealty to me, accept the gift of the demon, and I will elevate you to a commander within my forces. You will answer only to me and your aunt. Ho
w does that sound?”
Irakesh considered his options. Set was asking him to betray his own mother. More, he was asking Irakesh to allow Set to sink his hooks in. Those hooks would begin to erode Irakesh’s will, and someday would take over his mind. With each year Irakesh’s will would belong less to him and more to Set, until one day he was a mindless thrall.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Uncle,” Irakesh found himself saying. The words were strange. He didn’t know where they’d come from. Irakesh sank to his knees, and met Set’s awful gaze. “I suppose you’ll have to kill me. I won’t betray my mother, and I won’t give up my identity to be one of your servants.”
Steve leapt eagerly to his feet, dropping the pretense of being unconscious.
“I will.” He was bloody and battered, but his gaze was steady as he looked at Set. “Take me, my lord. I have no love for Ra, and even less for Isis. Give me power, and I am happy to assist you in killing your enemies.”
“Interesting,” Set said, laughing. He stalked over to Irakesh, drawing an enormous black bastard sword from the scabbard over his shoulder. He gave a quick flick, severing Irakesh’s wrist. There was a moment of hot pain, but Irakesh ignored it as the hand with the bracelet clinked to the ground at Steve’s feet. He said nothing as Set turned to Steve. “I accept your offer, Ka-Dun. I will free you from the collar, and give you the gift of the demon.”
Set gave Irakesh a truly wicked smile, one full of tiny razored teeth that made Irakesh’s own look harmless. “As for my quivering nephew here, he will be your first thrall. You may enslave him, just as he so thoughtlessly enslaved you.”
Irakesh watched in horror as Steve approached. The Ka-Dun wore a gleeful smile, staring cruelly at Irakesh as he snapped the collar around his neck.
Chapter 62- Our Best Plan Sucks
Blair stared back over his shoulder, but none of the demons approached. They’d blurred several miles, finally stopping at an empty freeway.
“You were ready for this,” Isis said, gesturing at a massive jumbo jet parked on the road. The cargo hold in the back was open, a wide ramp beckoning for them to enter. A single figure stood there, waving frantically at them to board.
Blair sprinted up the ramp. He was one of the last to board, joining the cluster of figures in the center of the little hangar.
The man who’d been waiting had salt and pepper hair. He wore a deep blue Armani suit, one that matched the quality and cut of Osiris’s own—pre-dragon goop, anyway. Whoever it was had the faint green glow Blair had come to expect from the deathless, and his familiar nod to Osiris reinforced that judgement.
“Where’s Commander Jordan?” the man asked, scanning their ranks as the wide ramp behind Blair began folding up into the plane.
“I’m sorry, Mark. He didn’t make it,” Osiris replied, grimly. “He’s trapped in a suit of armor derived from our X-11s.”
“Trapped?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, trapped. Using tech stolen by Set’s spies,” Osiris explained, giving a sigh as he sat on one of the benches set into the wall of the cargo hold. Isis joined him, though Ra and Trevor remained standing.
Blair looked to Liz, who seemed just as shell shocked as he was. He moved to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. She seemed a little surprised, but gave him a tentative smile. At least there was still something good, something to hold onto amidst all the chaos.
“Okay, so they’ve stolen our tech. That’s alarming, but I don’t understand what you mean by Jordan being trapped,” the man Osiris had called Mark seemed agitated, and the flippant way he spoke to Osiris suggested he was used to being in charge.
“The armor is tainted,” Osiris explained, accepting a silk handkerchief from Mark, which he used to clean grime and dragon ichor from his face. “It’s demonic. In essence, it makes Jordan a slave to the will of the person who created the demonic taint. In this case, that’s my brother Set. Normally that taint takes months to seep in, sometimes years. Set managed to do it in just a few days.”
“So, Jordan’s been compromised. Can they force him to work against us?” Mark asked, grabbing a bulkhead as the plane began to move.
“I’d say so, Director,” Liz said, disengaging from Blair and approaching the man. “He fired a bunch of missiles into the middle of our gathering, and might have tried to do more if Isis hadn’t used him like a frisbee.”
“Ms. Gregg,” the Director said, giving her a smile that revealed a pair of elongated incisors. Just like the ones Osiris had. “I’m pleased to see you’re still alive.”
“Likewise,” Liz said, accepting his handshake. “Well, living-ish. It looks like you’ve become deathless.”
“Something like that,” the man said. Blair finally knew who he was now. “Though I’m not a deathless, as I understand it.”
“No, you’re not,” Osiris interrupted. He smiled at them, face finally clean. “Mark is a vampire, Ms. Gregg. One of my progeny.”
Trevor and Ra had been whispering in a far corner, but she turned to look at Osiris as he spoke.
“What’s the difference?” Liz asked.
“Osiris couldn’t stomach what we’d become,” Ra said, walking a few feet toward them. The plane began to shake as the engines roared outside. They gained momentum quickly, and Blair was forced to grab the bulkhead. “He altered the virus so he would appear more human, and his children have the same lineage. They hide what they are. Deathless revel in it.”
“We can argue the aesthetics of our respective bloodlines later,” Osiris said, turning back to the Director. “How did you know where we were?”
“You asked me to follow Ra’s progress,” the Director said, shrugging. “It wasn’t hard to figure out this was where you’d go, so I kept an eye on things. When creatures began emerging from the Ark in England I thought it prudent to move material here in case this was where Set planned to hit. Looks like I was right.”
“Your decision may have saved us all,” Osiris replied, nodding in apparent thanks. “Set will be after us soon. He’ll likely gloat over his victory for at least a small time, but we’ll need to prepare for the next attack.”
“Next attack?” Blair asked, finally joining the conversation. “How will he know where we’re going?”
“Because he has spies everywhere,” the Director said, picking a piece of lint from the arm of his suit. “If he knows where Mohn is headquartered in London, then that’s where he’ll strike.”
“Then why don’t we just go somewhere else? Somewhere he doesn’t know?” Blair asked. It seemed foolish to walk into a trap you knew about.
“Because Set knows we have no choice,” Isis said, heaving a great sigh. “We know his scheme now, which is nothing less than the destruction of the Nexus.”
Blair was silent for a long moment, considering. “So you think Set will use the First Ark to get back into the Nexus, since his previous plan to cut off its power source didn’t work. I’ve restored a conduit to it, and for him to destroy the Nexus he has to sever the conduit. That about right?”
The plane engines screamed, then the front wheels left the runway. There was a moment of weightlessness, then they were airborne.
“Precisely,” Osiris said, giving a tight nod. “Had it not been for your actions, the Nexus would already be destroyed. I don’t know why its destruction is so important to Set, but the reason doesn’t matter, really. The Nexus is critical to our eventual defense against the Builders. Without it, we lose the Ark network, and they’ll be able to pick us off easily.”
“I keep hearing the Builders brought up,” Liz said, folding her arms as her gaze roamed the elder gods. “I get that they made the Arks. I get that they’re a threat for some reason. How do they relate to Set, though? We have too many damned enemies, and I’m not even sure which is which anymore.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Trevor said, crossing to join Liz. Ra shot him a look as he moved, expression unreadable. Interesting. Blair wondered if there was something more going on
there. “What does matter is our immediate actions. Maybe these Builders are a threat, but they’re a distant one as I understand it. The immediate problem is Set. We know what he wants. He knows we know. It sounds like he’ll bring everything he has to stop us.”
“That he will,” Osiris said. He looked deeply troubled. “We don’t have the resources to resist him, either. You saw what he brought to bear back there. He’ll bring a stronger force to London, one we can’t stop. If he catches us we’ll be wiped out, and there will be no one left to oppose him.”
“So we bring the battle to him then,” Ra growled, stalking over to stand next to Trevor. That made Blair smile.
“Sekhmet is right,” Isis said, straightening. “We have to stop Set. We cannot run, or he wins by proxy. He destroys the Nexus unopposed.”
There was a long moment of silence as everyone seemed to weigh their options.
“Let’s blow up the First Ark,” Blair found himself saying, even as the idea crystalized in his mind. Everyone eyed him in shock, so he continued. “If we assault The First Ark, Set will have no choice but to stop us. Once he’s in the Ark we find a way to overload the reactor. Someone, or several someones, keep Set busy until it goes critical. The Ark detonates, killing Set along with it.”
“There is a serious flaw with that plan,” Isis said, eyes boring into Blair. “The Arks are linked to the Earth’s magnetosphere. They use it to evenly distribute sunstorms during the height of the sun’s fury. It’s all that keeps the surface of our world from being burnt to a crisp. If you destroy one of the Arks, you risk destabilizing that network.”
‘What would that mean, exactly?” Blair asked.
“A pole shift,” Trevor said, stroking his goatee. “That would be some nasty business. It could cause the continents to shift, meaning we’d see some of the worst earthquakes and volcanoes since the Late Cambrian.”
