Executor Rising: A GameLit/LitRPG Adventure (Magnus Book 2)

by Vowron Prime

  Torneus nodded his head furiously. “Please do, and please have it cover the entire squad.”

  “You got it, boss. Stealth field active.”

  Torneus gulped, terminating the call. The fearsome man would no doubt dock a few points for forgetting to ask that at the outset. While their leader had never taken on an official title, everyone knew that Magnus was the true mastermind behind the organization. The way Krar’eaks deferred to him alone showed how much clout the Executor wielded, and it wasn’t just the Dyn. The Zevan considered the human on par with Nova, and she too seemed to look up to him.

  A shadow leader, pulling the strings without ever entering into the limelight.

  If Torneus was being honest, he was a bit jealous. Magnus even seemed to have a romantic interest in Nova, and he wasn’t even Dyn. Just a lowly human, hardly better than the Zevan and their sticks and stones.

  Yet those disrespectful thoughts of his had been squashed when he’d witnessed the man in action, back at Sanctuary. He hadn’t quite believed that the entire facility was the human’s private property.

  Witnessing Magnus clear the crater was revelatory. No—it was utterly shocking. Torneus, who had trained in combat for decades, utterly paled in comparison to the awe-inspiring levels of destruction that the Executor wrought.

  Compete? He smiled wryly. How does anyone best someone who could kill anything instantly without a single sound and can teleport at will? How does one overcome inevitability? How does one resist a natural phenomenon? No. It was at that moment that Torneus understood why Krar’eaks had thrown his full support behind Magnus. Why he had never once questioned who should lead their Resistance cell.

  Still, Torneus had yet to truly understand the Executor’s character. He seemed utterly ruthless to his enemies, but those closest to him only spoke the highest praise. Was it really possible to have such a dichotomous personality?

  Idle thoughts flitted through his mind as the squad made their way to the massive domed structure. After a half-hour hike, the black hemisphere loomed over them, appearing far more menacing from up close than it did from afar.

  Normally, they would deploy antimatter charges to breach the compound walls, but Magnus’s presence would mean they could infiltrate far more stealthily.

  “Okay, bud,” Magnus said, his face appearing on Torneus’s HUD. “Why don’t you restate our mission objectives, just to humor me.”

  “Yes, Executor. Our highest priority is to retrieve the matter fabricator located in storage room α-III on the third ring of the facility. Our secondary objective will be to ensure that our undercover agents make it to the rendezvous point alive. And finally, we shall place explosive charges around the facility to render it nonoperational. The liquid atmosphere within the dome is highly toxic, so we will all breathe air from our suits’ oxygen tanks. We have one hour.”

  “Good,” the executor replied. “That’s right. I know what you’re thinking—why can’t MC just relocate the shit out of this place and call it a day? And I know that you know the answer to that question.”

  Torneus nodded. “You will not always be around… and this operation is a test of my skills as a commander.”

  “You got it. All right, let’s kick some ass. I’ll teleport us in, but that’s the end of the help I’ll give you with my abilities.”

  “Understood. Sir, when I give the order, please teleport us insi—oh.”

  He knew he’d made a mistake as soon as he uttered those words, and Magnus’s smirk served to confirm it.

  “I could have simply asked you to teleport us all to the dome, couldn’t I? You said I could leverage your abilities until we entered the dome.”

  “Damn right! Not all of your troops will have the skill sets. As a leader, it’s on you to identify their strengths and weaknesses and leverage them appropriately. But that’s all in the past now. Get your head in the game, because we can’t afford any screwups on this one.”

  “Yes, sir. Then please teleport the squad inside the Qephyx Biodome at this location.”

  Magnus turned toward the dome. “Ready on you.”

  “All hands, switch to your onboard air supply and deploy your diver propulsion vehicles,” Torneus ordered. “When we enter the sphere, we will be entering a toxic liquid environment. Do ensure that none of it touches your skin, lest you suffer debilitating burns.”

  The troops dropped their rucksacks and retrieved a chromed bullet-shaped object the size of a watermelon. Two handles stuck out of its side. A metal propeller dominated the rear.

  Torneus had his troops assemble the squad’s portable illusion field. They’d carried the unwieldy refrigerator-sized device in pieces on the journey to spread the weight. Its benefit was worth the effort. The device cast a spherical field, giving them invisibility across the entire electromagnetic spectrum. While it couldn’t compare to Magnus’s own field’s convenience, it did give them the optical invisibility his ability lacked.

  “Execute.”

  Their surroundings shifted without sound or sensation. Instantaneous, perfect teleportation. No matter how many times Torneus saw the phenomenon, he could not fathom how such a feat was possible. There were no such convenient powers anywhere in the Dyn arsenal, not even in their wildest Ultimator experiments.

  The interior of the hemisphere was predictably red, pink, and black—the circular tunnel constructed entirely of hardened, bioluminescent flesh, as was almost everything within this alien place.

  They arrived in a vacuum devoid of liquid or air. Magnus had evacuated the slimy liquid that the Qephyx called home and held it at bay around them with an energy dampener bubble.

  “I’m releasing the barrier,” Magnus announced. “Prepare to be submerged.”

  When the invisible barrier deactivated, mucus-like liquid descended upon them like a tidal wave in slow motion. Seconds later, the vacuum was gone, and they were surrounded by thick slime that stuck to them like goo. Except, when the substance touched the troop’s armor, it dissolved, forming a layer of slick liquid that allowed them to push through its resistance and swim. Courtesy of a special coating they’d applied for this mission.

  As expected, the Resistance Dyn had no issues acclimatizing. They engaged their DPVs and immediately scissored their legs to assume formation, swimming around like dolphins.

  The Zevan knights were another story entirely. Despite having been briefed on the location and trained in VR simulations at Sanctuary, several had not taken the transition well. They flailed and struggled to get their own DPVs, requiring the help of the Dyn to overcome their issues.

  As for Magnus, he was as stoic and unemotional as ever. Hardly surprising.

  Before the Zevan had a chance to panic, Torneus spoke up, redirecting everyone’s attention to the mission at hand. “Focus! Our first objective is to infiltrate the compound undetected. We will now head towards Target Alpha, the matter fabricator’s location. Execute.”

  Torneus had the experienced Dyn veterans lead and ordered the Zevan knights—veterans in their own right—to follow, covering the squad’s rear as they swam. The configuration worked well, and the knights did their best to keep their energy weapons trained on possible attack vectors as they’d practiced. Their execution fell somewhat short, but this was an alien situation for them. Torneus considered their performance adequate. Three Dyn maneuvered the neutrally buoyant illusion field generator through the tunnel. Its mobility had improved significantly underwater.

  “Executor, please take point and spearhead the squad’s advance.”

  The human smirked. “You got it, boss.”

  Even without his abilities, Magnus was by far the most seasoned warrior of them all, and Torneus would make every bit of use of the elite commando.

  They encountered their first foe a mere thirty seconds later—a Qephyx, without its protective shell. A sight almost no one ever saw. The fleshy organism looked like an intestine that had been unwound and stretched out. Purple, veiny, and wormlike. Highly vulnerable in thei
r exposed form, the enemy Dyn posed them no threat.

  Torneus ordered the attack. He couldn’t risk allowing the alien to live, possibly giving away their presence.

  Under the cover of invisibility, his forward troops activated their pulsing energy emitters, cooking the Qephyx. The hapless alien screeched and squirmed. Its cries transmitted within the syrupy liquid exceedingly well.

  The process took longer than Torneus would have liked. The weapons they wielded differed a bit from the normal microwave emitters since microwave radiation was nearly useless within a liquid. Their weapons specifically targeted solids, but there was little solid matter to be found on a naked Qephyx. Its anguish ended a minute later.

  The Executor shot Torneus a look that he couldn’t read. Had he made the wrong decision? Torneus cleared his thoughts. Second-guessing Magnus’s expressions would get him nowhere.

  I should hide the corpse, Torneus thought, eyeing Magnus again. Sadly, there would be no help from the shadow leader for that task.

  Instead, he ordered two Zevan knights to carry the carcass into an adjacent chamber. Its flesh-door split open like an iris to allow them access. They hid the body in a corner and laid some weights on it to pin it in place. The body would be discovered, but hopefully only after they had left the premises.

  Several tense minutes passed in silence before they swam headlong into their next issue.

  Surprisingly, it was Magnus at the forefront who’d encountered it—a gravity field shift where the pull tripled and changed from planetary alignment to ninety degrees off-vertical, causing Magnus to fall towards the wall to their right. Yet instead of the fantastic tangle of limbs that Torneus had expected, their infallible leader simply teleported himself in-place and reoriented, landing perfectly on the wall with his legs.

  So much for not using his abilities!

  The new gravity pattern meant that the squad had to plod their way across the new “floor,” rather than swim. Torneus had to divert half the squad to push the illusion generator. The gravity shifted a few more times as they ascended their way to the center of the dome. Six horizontal floors ringed a sphere at the core—their destination.

  The odd gravitational phenomena actually helped them navigate the horrifically organic surroundings. Instead of using elevators, they simply swam up vertically gravitated flesh shafts, affording them an easy ascent.

  Still, they weren’t always able to hide the bodies. In those cases, Magnus did intervene to teleport the fallen enemies to who-knew-where. Each time he did, the Executor gave Torneus a look, until he couldn’t keep his silence anymore.

  “Why the hell are you killing these enemies when our goal is to avoid detection until we reach our objective?” Magnus asked over a private comms channel.

  “It is too risky to allow the Qephyx to live. In their natural environment, their senses are superb. Even with the stealth field, we may be detected.”

  “So why not avoid them instead?”

  “It would slow us down...”

  “We’ve got time,” the Executor replied.

  Why didn’t he avoid them? Some subconscious aversion to the nasty flesh-creatures? Ridiculous. They were fellow Dyn. Dyn above all.

  “I do not know,” he replied honestly.

  “Well, I know why. You’ve just been given command of a squad for the first time. That’s a lot of firepower, and they’re decked out with the best gear available. It’d be strange if you weren’t tempted to wield it. But know that every weapon has its use. While it may be easy to smite your foes with the hammer of death, there may be a better solution in discretion. Keep that in mind as we progress.”

  “Yes, Executor.”

  Torneus stomached the shame. No doubt Magnus would give him an earful after the mission, but he forced himself to concentrate on the mission at hand.

  Torneus halted the squad before they rounded the last bend just outside of the spherical room that contained the matter fabricator at its very center. Torneus looked over each of his men in turn. This was it—the most critical moment. He could only hope that the plan would go as well as he’d envisioned in his head, some several hundred times over.

  He gave the signal. Ten jet-black figures swarmed the beating heart of the facility—the Qephyx biotech atrium.

  Forty-Six

  The team swam around the corner in formation to discover two armored Qephyx orbs with their mechanical appendages extended.

  Several of Torneus’s Zevan troops sighted up and were about to pull the trigger, but MC and the Dyn Resistance fighters stopped them in time.

  “Don’t shoot! Check your IFF—these are our people!”

  Torneus breathed a sigh of relief as sweat trickled from his brow. That was far too close for comfort. Due to the secretive nature of their operation and the unique characteristics of the Qephyx sphere, the team had minimal contact with their allies on the inside, making their extraction somewhat tricky. If the undercover Resistance agents panicked, though, they didn’t show it.

  “Inside, you will find the matter fabricator,” one of the Qephyx explained. “The core is the only zero-gravity environment within the facility. The only area suitable for equipment like the fabricator to function.”

  Jubilation rippled across the Zevans’ faces like a tidal wave, clearly happy to exit the sludgy liquid that surrounded them. Torneus guessed their excitement would be short lived. They’d probably dislike zero-G just as much.

  “The fabricator is normally secured in place, but we have already disconnected the machine to prepare it for transport. All you need to do is carry it outside, though you must hurry. The central room is equipped with a powerful sensor suite; your illusion field will not hide you for long.”

  Torneus had known about this, and he’d been giving it some thought. There was no way of retrieving the fabricator without being detected—that was all according to plan. The only question was whether they took the bulky stealth generator inside with them. It may lengthen the time to detection, but it would also slow them down.

  Torneus spied MC watching him appraisingly, no doubt judging his decision-making skills.

  “Please make your way outside of the compound,” Torneus ordered the two undercover agents. “Your cover is still intact so you should have no issues leaving the premises. You’ll be far safer on your own than here with us once we’ve been detected. We will meet you after we escape with the fabricator.”

  The pair wobbled in acknowledgment and left at once.

  “Half of the Zevan will stay here and disassemble the illusion field while the rest of us will enter the core.” Torneus then spoke directly to the lone Dyn he’d be leaving behind to supervise them. “Ensure that the generator is dismantled properly and loaded onto the Zevan. I want everyone ready to depart by the time we return.”

  “Yes, sir,” the soldier replied. “Will the Zevan accompanying you be all right, though?”

  “As much as I’d like to take only the Dyn inside, the matter fabricator is even harder to move than the illusion generator. We will need their help.”

  MC gave him a subtle nod.

  At least that was one thing he’d done right.

  Torneus swam around to face the Zevan who would be coming along. “You are not yet trained for zero-G environments, so each of you will attach to one of the Dyn. Remain still and do not make any more movements than absolutely necessary.”

  Nodding towards his troops, he pressed in the door’s fleshy control panel, causing the wall to gape open like a fresh wound, admitting the squad into its maw—an airlock of sorts.

  The liquid drained into the walls of flesh like blood being pumped through a veiny membrane. Moments later, they stood on the soft, pulsating ground. Bits of oozy liquid clung to their armor like a flu victim’s runny snot.

  The organic door on the other side split open with a wet squelch, revealing an enormous spherical enclosure that emanated a uniform red glow from its blood-filled walls that pulsed to a beat. A heartbeat, with every pump en
gorging the arteries crisscrossing the walls.

  MC stared at the expanse, stock-still. If Torneus didn’t know any better, he’d say the man was afraid. But he did know better—nothing scared that guy.

  Foghorn sirens blared and the spherical walls began to pulsate rapidly, glowing a brighter red to indicate an emergency. Thick tentacles whose length defied reason extended from the shell of the room. Dripping acidic blood, they slowly reached for the squad. Automated defense systems.

  The three Zevan latched onto the backs of the Dyn, and the team then tethered to each other with thin titanium wire.

  The team pushed off from the airlock, aiming for a metal platform that floated at the center of the room. The wire was a good call—not everyone’s aim was perfect, but those who had misjudged were pulled along by the others in the right direction.

  Several other platforms were suspended throughout the area, all oriented in random directions. Each seemed to have its own localized gravity well.

  “What exactly do the Qephyx research here?” MC asked over comms.

  “Antigravity. That technology is the hallmark of the Qephyx, along with their flesh tech,” he responded, eyeing the tendrils that were making their way over to their position.

  “Shit. We need to get in on that action.”

  That’s what he was thinking about at a time like this?

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Torneus gave the order. “Open fire!”

  Their energy rifles pulsed microwaves as they drifted through the zero-gravity space, bursting the wet organic appendages like water-filled balloons, searing bits of the fleshy wall. One of the downsides to flesh tech was its extreme vulnerability to microwave radiation. The Dyn heavily regulated energy weapons inside such facilities for that very reason. That and fire, but no one in their sane mind used fire-based weapons indoors, so that was rarely a concern.

  A tense thirty seconds later, the team arrived at the platform that floated at the sphere’s center. As Torneus had predicted, the platform’s gravity bubble attracted them as they neared, compensating for any errors they’d made in their trajectory.