by James Hunter
Mastiff-sized dogs, chickens the size of bobcats, goats with spring-like legs, gold-plated lions, all types of animals, but these weren’t your normal beasts. These were all steam-powered monstrosities with little engines and smokestacks pumping a silver-gray mist into the air. There was a definite haze in the courtyard, and now I knew why I smelled smoke when I first came out of the Submerged Labyrinth. The steam-powered animals must have still had some flesh to them, because along with the smoke was the stench of meat cooking.
A bull with horns at least six feet wide spotted me first. It reared back—hooves pawing at the sky—let out a defiant bellow, then dropped back down and charged, the engine on its back belching out smoke and sparks. A huge tiger, half-metal, half-fur and muscle, wheeled toward us and issued a thunderous roar of its own. Two war elephants, both with bronze feet and bronze trunks, trumpeted and broke into shambling gaits. Chickens with dead eyes scrambled across the ground and flapped their feathers, which seemed to be made of metal.
Some of the animals had metal added to them, others were simply flesh mixed with engine, and then there were the centipede skeletons we’d seen before. A lot of them. The bugs pulled on the steel filaments, moving bones, so the warriors could grab rusted weapons and get to their feet.
I tore into the odd collection of cyborgs and animals. A few goats with spiked horns bounced forward on their springy legs to butt my horses, but the fire stallions plowed them over, dishing out a quarter of my Miracle Damage on contact. A skeleton scrambled up behind us, and Persephone hacked it down like the Grim Reaper himself, a sickle in each of her hands.
From out of some of the marketplace stalls burst other creations, like unicorns with serrated sword blades rising out of their foreheads. Several sloth-like beasts, each a dozen feet tall, also lumbered out of the buildings. These had unnatural pink skin covered in crisscrossing scars and patches of molted hair. Bronze knives had been attached to their front paws, and bronze helms, riveted in place, protected their skulls and inhuman faces. Engines encumbered their backs, chugging as they rotated the gears that worked tendons.
I drove the Helios Chariot into the center of the courtyard. Raising the scythe, I let out a battle cry. “Feel the Wrath of the War God, dickbags!”
And then I felt 100 Divine Essence Points leave me in rush of energy and cold agony. I thought I heard the godstone utter a Fuck, yes!
I couldn’t hear much as the wind of a storm surrounded me, hot air—charged with power—beating against my face and pulling on the War Mammoth Cloak draped around my shoulders. Shadowy wraiths erupted out of my body, spiraling around me like a dark tornado. At first, I thought I was being attacked, but no, in seconds I realized the storm of dark energy was actually the souls of all the things I’d killed on my path toward ascension. I recognized Praxidike’s winged form, hundreds of werewolves, spider pigs, and giant prehistoric insects, all swirling in a cloud around me.
Each spirit in the storm of souls began to pulsate a dark purple color. Faster, faster, faster, the specters strobed, and then in an explosion they blasted away from me and into the odd collection of fabricated animals and centipede skeletons. The wraiths shredded everything they touched, leaving dark charbroiled flesh behind.
Wrath was a powerful attack, and in that single blow, I dished out over 950 points of damage to everything looking at me.
As the wave of energy finally subsided, I was left weak—wrung out like a wet rag. So much so, I had to brace myself against the Helios Chariot to keep from toppling into the creatures below. The pain was intense, excruciating, and I could hardly think. The winds of the souls at work were so loud, so unexpected, it made me dizzy.
After a time, I raised my head, bearing witness to the destruction I’d wrought.
One wraith clawed off a clockwork elephant’s trunk, leaving a gaping wound that vomited out an ichor the consistency of motor oil. Other dark spirits disappeared into goats, and they fell apart, seemingly wrecked from the inside out. A few of the chickens hit by the smoke demons simply exploded, gears flying and steel feathers clattering across the ground. The oversized bull was struck by a ghostly sword, and its head went rolling. Wrath dealt out damage in any number of ways—some with weapons, others with just the raw fury of the raging spirits.
A few of the skeletons hadn’t been looking, and surprisingly those didn’t receive any damage at all. It only affected those that had been gazing upon me when I unleashed the spell.
A thought occurred to me and I stole a sidelong look at Persephone; none of the wraiths had hurt her despite the fact that she’d been staring directly at me. Which meant she wasn’t my enemy—though it was still entirely possible that she wasn’t being completely honest about everything. Only time would tell about that.
From the other side of the agora, Myrina and her Battle Wardens waded in to mop up the survivors in an instant. The sounds of clashing swords and breaking bone created a din that echoed across the city. Myrina threw her three javelins: lightning, fire, and ice, and the trifecta of weapons took down one of the sloth creatures, blackening the thing’s pink skin and blowing its engine to pieces. Other Wardens hewed off limbs and sheared through meat, metal, and bones. The Elementalists unleashed a flurry of arcane fury, blasting creatures into the air or tearing them apart at the seams.
After the slaughter—the killing and mayhem done—the wraiths faded away, banished back to whatever hell they called home. A small part of me sighed in relief, glad to see them gone. I mean, holy shit, no wonder there was a twenty-minute cooldown for that miracle. I felt exhausted, but the sheer awesomeness of the ability, along with Myrina’s troops, had cleared the agora of my enemies in a matter of minutes.
Phoebe’s voice was joyful in my head. That was some Raiders of the Lost Ark shit right there. You Wrathed their asses off, my dude!
I offered her a wide, shit-eating grin and a cocksure wink. I mean, she wasn’t wrong on the score. I’d basically destroyed the entire army of steam-powered animals and maybe a hundred of the centipede skeletons to boot. Not too shabby, all things considered. Though there was one little issue that lingered in the back of my mind ... Wasn’t there supposed to be a Minotaur at the center of the labyrinth?
The thought had barely formed in my head when the ramshackle factory at the north end of the agora exploded and a new threat emerged. A threat that defied all reason or sense.
Enter the Minotaurs.
Didn’t expect that there would be two of them. Or that they’d look like they did.
How could I? I was still in my right mind.
And whoever had created those two beasts must’ve been completely and totally insane.
Bull. Shit.
LIKE THE SYNTHETIC animals I’d laid low with my Wrath ability, the Minotaurs were a mixture of meat and metal, each with a steam engine embedded in its flesh, poking up from over-muscled backs like twisted chimneys.
One had the body of a man and the head of a bull. That? That, I totally expected. Your classic Minotaur, though Daedalus had made some serious alterations. The knee and elbow joints had been replaced with bronze hinges. Its bulky torso was entirely encased in Greek-era armor—bronze, fanciful, and covered with gauges and metal tubing. It walked upright on huge sandaled feet instead of the cloven hooves I would’ve expected. Its arms were powerfully built and covered with a combination of coarse hair and metal rivets. In one tire-sized fist the Minotaur carried a huge spear that gleamed with a brilliant light. A round buckler rode the creature’s other arm.
As I watched, genuinely dumbfound, the oversized buckler burst to brilliant life, flames shooting from the front like a belching dragon.
And, again—I shit you not—that was the more normal of the two creatures.
The other was a freak show on an entirely different level. Unlike the Minotaur, this thing had the body of a gargantuan bull, eight feet tall at the shoulder, spike-studded hooves, and the grumpy face of a man in his late forties. Honestly, if I had the body of a bull, I’d be gru
mpy as hell too. Stranger still, it had a scorpion-like tail jutting up from its ass; however, instead of a stinger, the tip had a round hose-like opening. Are you with me so far? Bull body. Scorpion hose tail. Huge hooves studded with metal spikes. Human face. If Ares’ memories were correct, this abomination was called a Tauromino.
Now, here’s the real kick in the balls. It wasn’t just any ol’ human face plastered on the Tauromino. Nope. It was a face I knew well—or at least a face that Ares had known well.
Hephaestus, god of the forge. Same black hair, noble forehead, broad nose, and pockmarked cheeks, though the eyes had been replaced with telescoping bronze lenses.
Which meant Daedalus had probably built the other Minotaur, the classic bull-headed variety, out of the dead god’s body. Gross. Also, what a terrible twist of fate. I’d wanted to avoid all battle if possible, and now I had two Minotaurs to tangle with, both of them cobbled together out of a god’s corpse. The real question, though, was whether these freaks would have the powers of a god? And, if so, how screwed were we? I didn’t see the gemstone on the chest of the man with the bull’s head. But then again, it was covered with the breastplate. Those weapons it had, though, weren’t your normal spear and shield combo. Not a chance.
Freak one and freak two strode out and waited.
War God, look behind you! Myrina sent. She and half my army were on my right. Phoebe and the rest of the crew were on the left side of the agora. I was in the middle, with Persephone behind me on the Helios Chariot. Dead ahead were the labyrinth bosses.
Laughter rang out. An unseen voice spoke. “Do I have visitors to Minos Omega after all these long, long years? Or are they simply spare parts, I wonder? Hmmmm?” A fresh round of mad cackling filled the air. “Greetings, War God, I have been busy in your absence, have I not?”
“Daedalus!” I called back, scanning the agora. There was no sign of the genius, only the disgusting bull creatures and the burnt corpses of the animals I’d killed. “Talk about throwing yourself into your work. Pretty impressive.”
More laughter. “Yes, War God, impressive indeed. Perhaps instead of battling, you would be willing to give me half your Amazons, hmmm? If you were willing to agree to such a deal, I would let you and the other half of your army pass unobstructed. I’d take care of them, of course. Use them for my experiments, you understand. I do so love to experiment. And I have you to thank for it. In your rage, you gave me the ultimate gift.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. Phoebe, do you see any signs of the big D? And do you know what he means by gift?
No idea, my dude, and I don’t see him, the Rune-Caster replied. But two things. One, you probably shouldn’t refer to things as the big D, and two, you just know this is gonna get messy.
Yep. That was pretty much guaranteed.
“No deals, Daedalus,” I said. “We’re just passing through. Why don’t you save your experiments for someone who won’t blast apart everything you’ve ever loved?”
The voice boomed in anger. “Everything I’ve ever loved is already gone! My son Icarus, dead and beyond resurrection. Everyone else betrayed at every turn by the gods, by fate, by my own brilliance! The Olympians used me, and now I will use you!”
Uh-oh. Now I’d gone and done it.
Another batch of steam-powered cyborg animals raced through the archway to the right, flanking Myrina and her contingent of Amazons. More animals poured in from the left as well, eager to engage Phoebe and her squad of warrior women. Tigers with engines burning on their backs joined rhinos with bronze-plated horns. Laughing hyenas leaking smoke and the smell of burning fur rushed forward, hitting my Amazons in a wave. My troops were drawn into an epic battle with the beasts, but I couldn’t focus on them.
I had my own work to do.
The Minotaur stomped forward and brought the butt of its spear onto the ground with a thud. A wave of pure energy swept through the marketplace, bringing every single Amazon in range to their knees. The blast of raw energy broadsided Phoebe’s mech; the spindly-legged contraption tumbled drunkenly across the cobblestones, careening into a downed pillar. The machine hit like a freight train, the crash of metal drifting above the clamor of the battle as my favorite Rune-Caster was flung free.
Even my chariot wasn’t immune to the concussive force.
My War Blade tumbled from the air as though knocked down by a giant invisible flyswatter, and my chariot tipped onto its side. I went tumbling myself, ass over teakettle, smashing into the dusty, body-littered floor below while a full 300 points disappeared from my Health Bar. Damn! My ears rang, I was having trouble seeing, and the pain wracking my body left me breathless. With a wheeze, I pushed myself onto my hands and knees, the world reeling around me.
Persephone, who’d been riding with me in Apollo’s chariot, lay sprawled out ten feet away from me. The spring goddess was alive, her chest rising and falling, but, boy, was she in bad shape. Her face was graying again, her hair drooping in tangles, her body withering. Those pomegranate seeds were real bastards. The potions were becoming less and less effective, it seemed. She needed to get back to the Underworld. She might get the express elevator there if the Minotaurs and their mad creator, Daedalus, had anything to say about it.
With a shake of my head, I gained my feet as the bull-headed Minotaur sprinted toward me, its sandals slapping the pavement. It flung the spear ... though the weapon never actually left his oversized mitt. Instead, a shadowy copy of the weapon sped toward me. Nice trick. It kind of reminded me of how you could throw your sword in the Legend of Zelda video games. I knocked the shadow spear out of the air with my hourglass shield. My arm, though, felt like I’d swung the Sower’s Glass at a Sidewinder missile. I’d saved my skin, but that spear was dishing out an incredible amount of damage, even when it didn’t land on target.
The Tauromino let out a snort, reared, and went racing toward Myrina and the dazed Battle Wardens in her charge.
The creature raised its hose tail and let loose a spray of molten rock at Myrina and my ’Zons. That lava would coat them, killing them in an instant, but luckily, Myrina was ready.
She reached back into her quiver of javelins and flung Winger Tongue at the scorpion hose tail. Her aim was true. It hit the tail, freezing it and the spew of lava, which saved my warriors from certain death. But a second later, fresh molten rock broke through the sheen of ice. Lava gushed out, sending the superheated goo splashing toward Myrina. She was fast enough to dodge it, rolling out of the way and drawing the Tauromino’s fire. She kept ahead of the magma, bounding, ducking, dodging, rolling. One step away from annihilation.
Winter Tongue reappeared in her quiver.
She hurled it again.
This time, though, she missed entirely. The ground where it hit iced over. Meanwhile, the Battle Wardens behind her engaged the steampunk menagerie attacking them.
My attention was drawn back to my own fight. I was on my feet, facing the Minotaur, which thrust its spear at me. Using the Sower’s Glass, I knocked it away, but then the monster drove that burning shield into my chest, searing me and superheating my armor. The chain on my necklace melted, and the clockwork amulet, bursting with Divine Essence, fell to the stones under me.
The full power of the godstone struck my conscience all at once, like a hammer blow to the skull. I held the Crystal Scythe, and yeah, the gem loved that weapon like the gamer in me loved Mountain Dew.
For a beat, I forgot all about my Amazons. Forgot about their safety. Forgot about any kind of game plan. Poof! In an instant, all that went right out the window. I was going to kill everything and everyone in my path. Period. End of story.
I reached back to sweep the Crystal Scythe through the Minotaur, but then something latched onto it. It was roughly the size of a dog, only it didn’t have a body exactly. It was basically four segmented metal legs and a series of bronze pinchers. It pulled the weapon out of my hand and went dashing away with it, running off on metal legs that clacked on the stones. What the fuck
was that thing? Where the fuck had it come from? And, most importantly of all, where the fuck was it taking my gods-be-damned weapon!
This simply would not do!
I triggered Defender, my skin turning to nearly indestructible steel, activated Burning Aura, and conjured lightning to my hands. With a mighty war cry, I bolted forward, slamming into the bull-headed Minotaur, digging my fingers into the metal plate protecting its chest. With a roar, I lifted the creature above my head—discharging the pent-up Lightning Lance into the armor—then hurled the monster away like the worthless piece of garbage it was. The Minotaur went crashing into the stones near the entrance of the factory, skin smoking from my Lightning Lance.
The War Blade returned to my hand at once, thrumming with deadly power.
Off to one side, Phoebe was back up and on her feet, desperately working on her walker—though it seemed to be in bad shape. The Minotaur’s initial spear blast had dislocated two of the mech’s legs, and she was having a helluva time getting them reattached. On the other side, Loxo appeared out of the shadows and drove Snow Claw into the side of the Tauromino. The creature’s tail lashed out and caught her in the face. And then another of the strange metal devices wrapped around her legs. This one didn’t have segmented legs like the “dog” who’d grabbed the Crystal Scythe from me but was instead basically a big ball of bronze pinchers that squeezed Loxo’s legs together. She fell to the ground, unable to run.
Where were these pincher contraptions coming from? Something flashed by overhead. A strange figure clad in dark robes.
The Tauromino whirled. It was going to trample the hapless Huntress underfoot.
