From the journal of Cale Westmarch
March 2006
Since my arrival in Paragon City, an event that I still find hard to believe took place almost a full year ago to the day, I have learned a great many things. Some of the things I've learned are of practical value, like how to kill a Rikti Mentalist without letting his mind turn mine into so much applesauce. Others were of questionable usefulness, like what precisely the famous hero Numina prefers to wear beneath her spandex blouse as she stands guard over Founders' Falls. What I find to be the most amazing thing of all, however, is the realization that I still don't fully know what I can do when it matters the most.
Don't get me wrong, I am all too aware of my status as a Warshade, the fusion of a human and a Nictus. Having the alien mind merged with my own, or rather what used to be my own, has of course drastically altered my outlook on this dark travesty called life. My magic is gone, but in its place I am now able to call upon a plethora of quantum-based energy powers to take care of business in ways I had not dreamt possible even when I was at the pinnacle of my career as an Archmage.
Within the memories of the Nictus Balregu were patterns of energy that he and his Kheldian kind had engraved into their collective mind over the course of their existence, the physical 'templates' of other life-forms they had been in contact with in ancient history. The knowledge of their existence entered my mind the instant we merged, but it took some time before I was actually able to learn how to control the dark energies within me and put those quantum energy forms to productive use.
There are very few words that can adequately describe the first time I transformed myself from a human into a Nova. Dwelling in the atmosphere of a gas giant, the best way to describe them are flying squids who can fling bolts of plasma across amazing distances to stun their prey. A normal Nova would have decompressed and exploded almost instantly in this world's pathetically low atmospheric pressure, but in this form I was bound together not by flesh and blood but by pure quantum energy and the corrupted power of Nictus science.
Seeing the world through alien eyes and sensing it through exotic means that even now I still have trouble adapting to, it was truly an experience I have no words for. I was used to flying as a mage with the proper magical spells being employed, but sky-swimming as a Nova was both completely foreign and second-nature to me at the same time. Fighting in that form likewise was a challenge until I simply relaxed and trusted 'my' instincts, letting the tiny vestige of the Nova's original thought-template react to the dynamics of battle as appropriate.
Learning how to make use of the other quantum pattern, that of the dense and extremely tough life-form that had evolved on the surface of a long-ago cooled dwarf star, took far longer to master and posed an entirely different set of challenges. Where the Nova was light and agile, the Dwarf was heavier than lead and moved slowly. When I lashed out with a fist or two, however, I can guarantee you that whatever I was aiming at was not faring very well once the heavy blows landed. I soon learned that I had to pay extremely careful attention to my situation at all times, far more so than as a human mage, so that I could make use of the strengths of each form as required.
And sometimes even then I manage to surprise myself with what I can do.
This most recently came to light when I was approached by an employee of the Portal Corporation, the same business entity that was responsible for my arrival in Paragon City to begin with. To make a long story short, it seemed that my 'friends' were still randomly punching dimensional holes through the fabric of space-time to further their research and had encountered a dark and twisted version of Earth ruled by an evil version of the Freedom Phalanx. Known as the Praetorians, they became aware of our world's transgression into theirs and last week started to return the favor.
The Portal Corporation immediately started calling every hero they knew to help counter this growing threat, and like the rest of my heroic brethren I wasted little time in making the journey to Peregrine Island to answer the summons. It was basically our world against theirs, which meant that there was much to be done. Tasks were divided among us and teams were formed to deal with each threat as it became apparent, although in many cases the size of the teams was kept as small as possible so as to avoid being noticed by the Praetorians until the last moment.
My point-of-contact for this fracas was one Maria Jenkins, whom I have to confess I felt pity for as it looked like she hadn't had any sleep since this all began. She still possessed enough mental focus to speak coherently to me as she passed me a small folder, explaining the gist of my assignment as I read the hastily-written briefing. The exact details of what I was being asked to walk into were unknown, of course, but enough information had been researched to give me a general idea of what to expect.
My target was none other than Infernal, the evil version of Numina's side-kick in Founders' Falls. It seems he had made his way into the lost Mu city of Oranbega and was trying to summon an army of demons to help him invade our world. Naturally this bothered a few people over on our side of the portal, and so I was being 'asked' to make sure that his plan encountered a snag. I had no problems doing that, of course, but I pointed out to her that I probably wouldn't be able to do that alone.
"Perhaps you should fight fire with fire," a voice behind me said. "Or in this case, fight a demon with a demon."
I spun around to find the illusionist Azazela standing next to me. She and I had teamed together a few times in the past for various assignments, more often than not to try to put Nemesis and his nineteenth-century goon squad back in their place. The thing about Azazela, however, is that she herself was the child of a demon and had both the imposing seven-foot frame and the ram-like horns on her skull to prove it.
The conversation between her, myself, and Maria was blunt and to the point as time was short, the end result being that it was agreed that Azazela and I would try to tackle Inferno and his demons as a duo. Maria was understandably concerned for our safety, of course, but my new partner and I both assured her that we were confident of our abilities and skills.
The quiet doubts set in almost immediately as we made our way inside the Portal Corporation building that housed the proper portal. I knew that as an Archmage I would have had little problem dealing with the demons, but that was when I could still use magic. My fusion with the Nictus had changed the rules of the game, as it were, and I was still in the process of regaining the full faith and trust of the other signature heroes of the city. I knew what I was capable of doing, however, or so I had led myself to believe.
Having someone with me helped ease the worry in my mind, as I knew from past experience that Azazela was no lightweight. While she couldn't enter the minds of others like the Carnival mistress Vanessa DeVore could, Azazela still had the ability to insert visual hallucinations into unguarded minds and make them see things that weren't there... or make them not see things that were there. That mind-power of hers also could be turned inside-out in a sense to heal the body instead of harm the mind and increase one's skill, as she had numerous times before left the faintest of echoes in my mind that could spur me on to hitting harder and even faster in battle than was normal.
The portal was waiting for us when we exited the elevator and walked over to the platform, a giant mechanical device that gave off a truly bone-jarring monotone hum as it ripped a dimensional hole in the universe. It was a sound that I had come to hate with a passion, not because of how annoyingly loud or physically uncomfortable being close to it was, but simply because it was a painful reminder of how I had been snatched away from my homeworld and trapped in this one. The Portal Corporation techs said they were still researching my point of origin and suggested they had a few leads, but so far no way home had been discovered. And as long as I was making myself useful as a hero by cleaning up their messes, 'for the greater good of Paragon City' of course, then I didn't see what would motivate them to return me home.
Not that it mattered anymore, I thought to myself as Azazela and I looked at one another before unconsciously nodding and stepping into the portal. My old home would have to wait, as my new one was threatened yet again and it was up to people like me to set things straight.
A familiar musty smell greeted me as the wormhole collapsed behind us, leaving us alone in what appeared to be a foyer. The exit was still there, of course, but merely 'stealthed' by some means to avoid drawing undue interest. I suppose a sharp-eyed individual could spot the speck of dust that seemed to be hovering motionless in the air, waiting to spiral open in an instant when a living being approached too closely, but for the most part our intrusion was all but invisible.
"Cozy," Azazela commented as we looked around.
"Only if you like visiting Oranbega," I replied with a faint sigh. As a magic-user, I had loved the place despite the infestation of the cultists who called themselves the Circle of Thorns. As a Warshade who preferred plenty of open space for both the Nova and Dwarf forms to 'play' in, I hated the narrow passages and low ceilings.
"I do," she said simply with a shrug of dismissal.
"Let's just get this over with," I replied quietly. I knew that she was not what you would call verbose and decided now was not the time to stress her conversation skills. Not that she couldn't converse, but merely that she was simply not the overly talkative type.
"Wait," she said as she reached out to grab my arm before I could descend down the flight of stairs in front of us. "So how are you at fighting against demons?"
I paused and gave her an unsettled look at the realization that perhaps she didn't know me as well as I had thought in spite of working together in the past to ruin Nemesis' plans for global domination. Or whatever it was that he had been working on that week. "Okay, I suppose," I replied off-handedly. "They should squish just as easily as any non-metal creature."
The look I got in response was one of disbelief and suspicion, perhaps thinking that I was taking a cheap shot at her heritage. "Squish?" she echoed in a tone that not everyone cared to hear from their teammate.
Changing my quantum state was literally second-nature to me at this point, having done it so many times before. With a simple thought the atoms in my body began to resonate with quantum energy before promptly exploding outwards into a cloud of low-temperature plasma, producing a rather spectacular visual effect. A microsecond later I recondensed, the atoms of the plamsa-cloud once again fusing with one another in a specific template to recreate the imposing bulk of my Dwarf form.
((Squish...)) I rumbled as I pounded a denser-than-lead fist into a hand.
Her only reply was to raise an eyebrow at me, tilting her head up slightly to look me in the eye. She was every inch of seven feet tall, but in Dwarf form I was close to eight feet. My eyes were set slightly lower on my head due to my excessive armor, however, so we were essentially able to see eye-to-eye.
Not wanting to waste more time, I simply made a gesture to her and began to lumber down the stairs, trying not to wince as my footsteps produced booming echoes that I was sure the entire city would be able to hear in their sleep. Shaking her head, she immediately became as transparent as a ghost and followed me, not wanting to be seen by anyone and draw attention to herself. That was fine with me, as my Dwarf hide was several orders of magnitude more resistant to sharp pointy objects than her soft flesh was.
Even with as much haste as I had made in accepting this assignment from Maria, it shortly became obvious that I was already late to the party. A band of demons were roaming the torch-lit halls ahead of us, suggesting that the Praetorian version of Infernal had started his summoning rituals. Knowing that we were now running against a clock, I snarled a warning to Azazela before I started to use quantum energy to twist space around me.
Anyone who hates three-dimensional geometric mathematics would absolutely have kittens coping with how trans-dimensional quantum physics works. Had I been asked to explain it by writing it down, I could not have done so just as I could not have taught the mathematical art of magic to the uninitiated. The end result of my quantum twisting was that I ceased to exist in one location and began to exist in another... namely, right in the center of the horde of fire-covered demons. As always, there was that initial moment of surprise on their part, a universal 'what the hell?' pause before realization sets in that they now had trouble on their hands.
I used that momentary reaction gap to reach out with my Nictus powers, briefly miring them in a field of negatively-charged energy. The field acted as a siphon of sorts, drawing off some of their life-force and channeling it into my body. As a result, I became stronger while they became weaker. The perfect way to tip the odds in my favor at the onset.
Needless to say, the battle was short and sweet. This was not out on the streets of Paragon City where I had to restrain myself so as not to kill the 'poor, misguided youths victimized by society' who wore both heavy armor and heavy tattoos and called themselves the Freakshow. No, in this instance I was able to reach out and crush skulls to make sure that there would be no coming back, or at least no invading our world. Perhaps they had a Mediport system in this world like we had in ours, but I doubted it would extend to such things as hellspawned demons like this.
In any case, Azazela and I made short work of the group. I had bashed in two heads and was winding up for a third when my target screamed and clutched his skull, an indication that whatever visuals Azazela was implanting in his mind's-eye were not pretty ones. Knowing that he would be busy for the moment, I changed my focus to take out a demon who had noticed my horned companion and was about to blast her with a stream of fire. Needless to say, his burning breath never touched her skin as I promptly stopped his breathing the hard way. I was turning back to deal with the last remaining demon, the one having an Azazela-induced migraine, when I caught a faint twinkle of energy in front of my partner's skull just as the demon yelped and keeled over.
((Psi?)) I rumbled, not having much vocal dexterity in Dwarf form and not wanting to switch just for the sake of casual conversation. The question was meant to ask if she possessed true psionic powers of the mind instead of just the ability to induce illusions and phantasms in the minds of others.
"You'd be surprised by what visuals can give a person a heart-attack," she said simply as she looked around. "Or a demon," she added, giving me a rather piercing look before she stepped over the corpse of the demon and continued to walk down the hall.
I tried not to shiver as I lumbered after her, knowing that my own mind probably wouldn't be able to withstand too much of her 'attention' should she decide I deserved the same treatment. Granted my thoughts were more than a little alien these days, having the mental brain-pattern of a Kheldian that made it all but impossible to obtain a useable EEG scan, and the physical brain of the Dwarf was even sturdier. But even so, I would rather not find out for myself if I would have been able to resist the power of her illusions.
We encountered several other packs of demons as we continued deeper into the bowels of this dimension's version of Oranbega. Each time the tactics and results were the same: I would teleport in, mire them while their jaws hit the floor in surprise, Azazela would incapacitate a couple with her illusions, and we would then mop the stone floor with their broken carcasses.
"You're good," she commented to me as we both paused to wipe stray drops of demonic blood off of various portions of our bodies. Before us lay a heavy stone archway that seemed to be sealed, suggesting that whomever was on the other side did not want to be disturbed.
I merely grunted quietly in acknowledgment of her praise, the soft noise emerging from my throat as a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a purr. It was enough to draw another mild look of suspicion from her, perhaps thinking that I was purring at her or something. I really didn't care if she was impressed with my fighting prowess in Dwarf so long as we got the mission done and with a minimum of pain and suffering on our part.
"So you ready?" she asked in a tone of warning as she reached out to lay a hand on the mechanism that would open the door. "This is liable to be even uglier than what we just went through."
((Ready,)) I rumbled as I stood directly in front of the doors and crouched low, the better to tackle whatever was on the other side of the door if there was a sentinel standing guard. The switch was thrown a moment later and the door pulled back into its housing with a quiet rumble, revealing the vast open expanse of the altar room. There were no guards by the door, but no less than a dozen demons stood around a massive metallic archway.
"Damn," Azazela hissed as she saw another demon emerge from the swirling portal. "WAIT!" she blurted out as I started to charge forward.
I simply looked at her, knowing that Infernal's ritual was virtually completed and that his army was starting to form. If we had any chance at all of stopping him, we needed to go now, while there were only a handful of his fiery minions available. If they started coming through that archway like the proverbial tide from Hell...
"Here," she said quietly as she leaned towards me, just enough to tap her horns against the armored plating around my skull. I felt the faintest of sensations in the back of my mind, like the kiss of a zephyr on my neck during a mild summer day. Whatever doubts that were lingering in my mind earlier about my ability to do this, as a Warshade instead of an Archmage, were swept away by her encouragement. Perhaps it was simply an illusion instead of true courage, but the tickle in my mind seemed to forify my will against whatever lay in our immediate futures. I could do this, not because she had my back, but because I am a WARSHADE!
I could almost hear the tendons in their neck straining as their heads came up in unison as I materialized right in front of the open portal. As I had done before, I allowed my Nictus powers to lash out and try to drain them all of as much energy as I could scavenge before turning my focus on the heavy metal frame of the portal itself. As fully expected, there was an immediate cry of rage from the demons and an even louder yell from Infernal himself. I tried to ignore them as best I could to concentrate on my task, knowing that the portal and the demons it could still spawn was the greatest threat.
Fortunately for me, the thick and dense hide of the Dwarf is quite strong and very resistant to heat, having evolved on the surface of what essentially is the smouldering core of a dead star. While that allowed me to all but shrug off the burning blasts of fire from the horde of demons around me, it did not fare so well against edged metal objects. I had just put a serious dent into the archway's frame when the blow from Infernal's axe landed across the broad surface of my back, sending me sprawling. I had anticipated being wounded in the effort of attacking the portal, of course, but even with the thickness and resilience of my hide it hurt like hell. An apt metaphor given my current situation.
I scrambled to my feet and immediately launched myself at the swirling portal once again, feeling what passed for my heart lurch in my chest as I saw a pair of demons step out from inside the gateway. There were fifteen of the damned things in the room now, and almost all of them were pissed at me. Three were clutching their heads and staggering around, suggesting that Azazela was trying to keep them busy and thus out of my proverbial hair.
A bright flash of light heralded the entrance of a phantasmal image, a ghost-like shape that seemed to hover before the group. It immediately made a somewhat universal gesture of disrespect towards Infernal before sending a burst of raw magical energy at him, as if it were trying to engage him.
I would have laughed if I had the time to do so, as it was no doubt an ethereal manifestation of Azazela's demonic magic sent in to distract. The tactic seemed to work briefly, as most of the blasts of fire ceased to wash over me and instead started to bathe the apparition. Deciding to make the most of it, I leapt back up onto the altar and started attacking the portal once again, seeking to focus on the dent I had made earlier and trying to turn it into a full-blown tear.
Another heavy blow landed across my back without warning, almost knocking me off the altar. Apparently Infernal was not so easily distracted by 'mere' figments of the mind or invincible phantasms. I regained my footing in time to witness him backhanding a demon beside him, roaring for it to ignore the ghost and focus on the intruders instead.
It was the way he used the plural form that made me pause for a horrified moment. As focused as she was on casting illusions and fogging the minds of the demons around her, Azazela's concentration was too split to allow her to keep her illusion of invisibility functioning. The demons were noticing her presence in the room as well, and more than a few of them had obviously done some mental math. Which would you rather take on, the big hulking brute who vaguely looked like a lobster and wasn't bothered by your blasts of unholy fire, or the woman who didn't look to be nearly as armored and seemed ready to soil herself at the realization that you could now see her?
Don't ask me what I was thinking when I leapt off the altar and pounced on the two demons nearest to her. Perhaps she could have kept them busy, perhaps not, but the Dwarf mindset didn't seem interested in finding out. Without any conscious thought on my part I turned around to the rest of the group and spat out a challenge of sorts. To this day I don't remember precisely what I said, but I think it involved hairy goats, their mothers, and some petroleum jelly.
The taunt worked remarkably well, as there seemed to be a collective blink of surprise before every demon in the room looked over at me. Then the rage set in as a dozen sets of eyes suddenly seemed to burn with fire. Which is what I wanted, as it meant they were no longer focused on Azazela.
((RUN!)) I shouted to her as I unleashed my Nictus powers again to mire them in the draining field of energy, wanting to keep their focus on me even as I tried to summon as much strength as I could to ensure what was coming. Things were not going as planned, and we didn't have time to sit down and draw up a better plan. Maria Jenkins and Paragon City needed to know that the demons were coming, and right now the only ones who knew about it were Azazela and I. And if I could hold them back just long enough for Azazela to escape and spread the word... well, maybe Statesman and the Freedom Phalanx would plant a tree in my name in Perez Park or something.
Azazela seemed to hesitate for a instant before she bolted back down the hall, disappearing around a corner a few moments later. Perhaps I still had a glimmer of hope left, knowing that she might survive and could possibly do something about my corpse, but being surrounded by a dozen demons who are all actively trying to tear you apart limb-from-limb was not what most would call an optismistic situation.
Then there was Infernal to deal with. Odd how I keep forgetting his dark presence in the back of the pack, only to be reminded when the force of his axe across my shoulders sends me sprawling across the ground. The two previous blows had hurt before, but this one seemed to be even more agonizing as my nerves were seared with pain. It wasn't quite like being shot with a Quantum rifle, but it was a very close second.
"Hero," Infernal spat as he advanced on me. I tried to rise to my knees and glance over my shoulder at the same time, which only put me in a position to study the gleam of dozens of reflections of flame and fire in the blade of his axe as he swung it again. "Die!"
I don't remember feeling the blow, being swung from the side so the edge caught me in the chest. What I do remember, however, is the feeling of falling into a very dark and deep chasm, looking back up as the world receded around me like a tunnel. So this is death, I found myself thinking. I knew I was dead, of course, as I was in another dimension entirely and thus well away from Paragon City's Mediport rescue system. Ironic, how I was first born in one dimension, relocated to a second by a vampire, sucked into a third dimension by the Portal Corporation's machinery, and left to die in a fourth. I wonder if that would be worth extra points in the afterlife?
I would have pondered more when I was suddenly reminded of what I truly was. Not just a man on a mission, but a Warshade... the fusion of a human and a Nictus. And that the fusion, for whatever reason, was not as complete as it otherwise should have been. I honestly can't say it was Balregu that reacted after that fatal blow, but I know for sure that it wasn't me.
Quantum energy erupted from the corpse that was my body, seething tendrils of blackness that writhed around as they reached out to the life-forms that stood over me. Much like the negative-energy field that I used in combat, this exotic field of energy was of a much darker nature. In a flash it tore away a piece of life-energy from each of its victims, funneling it together into a single spark that was then focused on the gaping wound in my chest.
If I thought death had been unsavory, it felt nothing like the horrific wrenching feeling I experienced as my consciousness was literally dragged back into my now-repaired body. The energy field continued to function as I got to my feet, disoriented and surprised to find myself in my human form. It made sense a moment later why I had reverted, as maintaining the Dwarf form required a bit of conscious effort on my part. Not much, mind you, but just enough to require me being fully awake and aware of myself.
The force within me that had reached into the grave to pull me back faded as quickly as it had come, leaving me standing in the middle of a group of very surprised demons. I can't say if it had been a reflexive action or not, a sort of last-ditch effort at saying alive, but I quickly realized that all it had done was reset the clock by about three seconds. I needed a moment of time and focus to quantum-shift my body back into the armored Dwarf form, and right now I was just as vulnerable to their fiery attacks as Azazela was.
I had just started saying my prayers all over again, knowing that I didn't have any hope of pulling that return-from-the-grave stunt again anytime in the near future, when my skin started to tingle in a distinctive and familiar way. It took me a fraction of a second to realize that what I was feeling was magic being woven around me, and before I could blink I found myself practically in Azazela's lap as she finished her incantation for the relocation spell. Magic that I once had access to.
"Cale!" she blurted out as the energies faded from around her.
It is moments like this where I fully understand why some dogs pee on the carpet with excitement when their master returns home after a long absence. "Az?" I panted as I half-collapsed onto the floor, quickly raising back up to rest on one knee. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I love you."
"What?" she said, jerking her head back and blinking hard enough to almost be physically heard.
"Your timing just saved my life," I explained to her as I gingerly stood back up. "Thank you."
"Oh," she said quietly as she seemed to calm down. "For a moment I..."
We both heard the sound at the same instant, a roar of fury followed by the heavy tread of a dozen feet running across stone. I'm not sure if Infernal or his merry men could have traced Azazela's life-saving teleport to where we were now, but with this being a magical city we were currently in I wasn't about to put it past them.
"Later!" I blurted out as I turned my focus inward, once again exploding into a cloud of purple plasma to recondense into the Dwarf. ((Set,)) I added as I hunkered down and braced for the horde that was getting louder.
"Let them come," she replied in a cold voice as she narrowed her eyes. The horde rounded the corner a bare second later and her eyes suddenly seemed to ignite like magnesium flares. "Come, my children, ATTACK!"
Three spectral images promptly took form in front of the pack of demons, producing yet another collective 'what the hell?' moment before chaos promptly ensued. I waited an extra moment to make sure that they were focused on her phantom army before I bull-rushed them with a roar and lashed out with my dark energy mire.
The second battle with the horde of demons was everything the first one should have been: short and violently decisive. Perhaps they had been weakened by our first assault, or perhaps they simply had yet to throw off the stygian effects of my self-resurrection in their midst moments earlier. In any case, no more than a minute had elapsed before the stony floor was littered with smouldering corpses and splattered with demonic blood. I suppose that should have been the end of things, but once again I was reminded that I was getting ahead of myself when I felt the now-familiar sting of Infernal's axe across my shoulders.
Determined for vengeance, I whirled around and promptly belted him one across the jaw as hard as I could. Given the fact that my taloned hands were curled into fists the size of his head and consisting of matter denser than lead, the blow was sufficiently strong enough to stagger him back against the wall. Much to my dismay, however, he quickly shrugged off the headache I had just gifted him with and lunged back at me with a snarl of pure fury.
The battle that took place was probably the most intense I had ever had in my entire life, both as a fully-human Archmage and as a human-Nictus fused Warshade. Infernal's strength was easily on par with my own in Dwarf form, and his unholy rage only made him stronger. I quickly learned that I had to keep close to him, to be 'all up in his grill' if I was to avoid leaving him with enough space to swing that axe of his around. Twice in our struggle he was able to leave painful rents in my quantum hide, and were it not for Azazela's mind whispering in my own to dampen the pain with the illusion of warmth I no doubt would have become overwhelmed.
Surprisingly, the battle ended not because of what I did but because of what my partner did. She had the wisdom to stay well away from Infernal and I as we were locked in combat, but she kept up a constant effort at entering his demonic thoughts to cloud his mind with painful illusions. I suspected she had finally hit a proper nerve when Infernal let loose with a bone-shuddering roar of fury and turned to lash out at her, swinging his arm up as if to throw his axe in her direction.
The Dwarf mindset, or what little spark of it remained, reacted before I could consciously do so. My hand lashed out just as his did, interposing my flesh between his axe and Azazela's skull. The end result was that it was my skin that was parted by the keen edge of his weapon, spilling a small torrent of incandescent purple blood onto the floor. I shall not bother describing the pain to you, as there are not words enough to properly detail it, but suffice it to say I doubted I would be able to easily recover from the wound.
Azazela's eyes nearly tripled in diameter at what took place literally inches from her face, her jaw falling open in surprise before setting into a steely mien as her own demonic temper finally lit. A spark of unholy rage flashed across her eyes before a more visible spark of energy twinkled in front of her skull, a visual echo of the fury now being directed into the depths of Infernal's mind.
A hideous scream promptly filled the room as Infernal cried out, drawing back from the both of us to clutch his head tightly. Seizing the moment, I dropped my armored shoulder slightly and bashed him against the wall, making sure to keep my wounded hand tucked in. I was rewarded with the unmistakable sound of a rib cracking as the Praetorian was smashed between a stone wall and my armored hide. Spurred on by the knowledge that he was now as seriously hurt as I was, I took a step back and lashed out with my right hand as hard as I could manage, seeking to crush his skull flat like I had done to so many of his hellspawned demons in the past twenty minutes.
The blow only succeeded in dislocating his jaw, but coupled with Azazela's most likely devastating images tearing his mind apart from within, it was just enough to drive the consciousness from his body. With a gurgling whimper, he collapsed to his knees and seemed to waver before pitching forward in a classic face-plant. A small pool of black ichor started to form around his head a few moments later, no doubt flowing out from what I hoped was now a broken nose.
"Cale!" Azazela gasped at the realization that our battle was over and that we were the ones who were still standing. I could barely make out her voice as we were both now panting heavily from the exertion, but at that moment I wouldn't have cared if her voice sounded like a cat being tortured by some Vahzilok zombies. She was alive, I was alive, and Infernal wasn't going to be leading an army of demons through a dimensional portal anytime soon.
I closed my eyes for just a moment, seeking to try to regain my focus. The world melted back into a purple cloud before clearing up as I returned to my human form. My hand was fine now, as it had been reintegrated back into a fully cohesive form from the quantum reversal, but the loss of energy was still very much with me. I probably would have collapsed had I not felt her hand darting out to grab my reconstituted wrist, seeing a faint flash of green pass before my eyes as her healing energies started to flow through me and replace what had been lost in the battle.
"Now I know why people hate demons," I muttered softly, still in a minor daze. I was brought back to coherent focus when she let go of my wrist and turned aside, spitting hard on the stone floor. "Azazela..." I started to say, realizing that I had essentially just insulted her heritage.
"Later," she said curtly, giving me a less-than-friendly look. "We still need to close the portal."
I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from groaning aloud, realizing that my horned companion was right and that we weren't nearly as finished as I had first thought we were. I was about to ask her if she could at least give me a moment to catch my breath when Infernal's body was suddenly encompassed by a shimmering curtain of sparkles and quickly faded out of existence.
Azazela and I both looked at one another in the same instant. "Mediport," we said in perfect unison. "Damn," she added with a soft growl. "Which means he'll be back soon."
"But not soon enough to keep us from breaking his portal," I reminded her as I turned and started to jog down the hall. "If we destroy it before he can screw his jaw back into place and..."
"Cale?" she interrupted in a patient tone, causing me to pause and glance over my shoulder at her. "The portal is THIS way," she added with a gesture of her thumb behind her.
I paused and glanced around the room, realizing that I had indeed started down the wrong hallway. "Right," I said, feeling more than a little sheepish for overcoming a truly epic foe such as Infernal, only to screw things up by doing something as patently stupid as not looking where I went afterwards.
We both quickly made our way back to the portal room, pausing as we saw that the swirling maelstrom was still very much open and active, but that the room in question was devoid of demons. Not entirely sure if this was a good sign or a bad one, I once again assumed my Dwarf form and charged across the length of the room to assault the portal once more.
Which is, of course, when things really went to hell.
Literally.
I had barely reached the platform the portal was mounted on when there was a roar of fury and no less than a dozen demons started to pour out from within the swirling archway like a flaming tide. Realizing that Infernal's rituals had been a success and that the portal was not just open but permanently so, I dove into the whirlwind in an attempt at blocking the passage with my bulk. An elbow driven into the midsection of an approaching demon and his furious roar of frustration told me that my tactic would largely work as I intended. The downside to acting as a giant drain-plug for a portal that bridged two worlds was made clear when I fell under attack from the throngs of demons that had yet to cross over, suddenly finding myself to be the target of countless blasts of fiery rage coming from both sides.
I barely glanced up as Azazela's phantasmal minions started to take shape again, seeking to distract the dozen or so demons in the room with us from aiding their brethren in dislodging me from my perch. The air in front of her ram-like horns seemed to constantly twinkle as she unleashed her arcane magics, casting one illusionary spell after another as fast as she could weave the eldritch equations together. I placed my faith in her ability to keep them off my back and turned my focus away from both groups, concentrating instead of the physical metal of the archway. Reaching out with both hands, I gripped the support structure as firmly as I could and began to flex, first inward and then outward in a steady rhythm in an attempt at bending the metal to the breaking point.
Time soon lost all meaning for me as I did nothing but focus on the way the portal was starting to warp and the blasts of demonic fire that was all but searing half of my body. I tossed my dark energy mire at them in what could only be described as a casual fashion, knowing that I couldn't hurt them enough to stop them but hoping that the weakness caused by the drain would keep them distracted enough. The portal was definitely starting to bend now, a series of tiny but still discernible fractures forming around the spot where my claws had left a dent during my first ill-fated assault.
A startled cry of pain caused me to cast a quick glance over my shoulder, just in time to witness a backhanded blow stagger Azazela. Again the fragment of the Dwarf mindset that still remained in the pattern reacted before I could, briefly letting go of the portal to wave a hand around and utter a rather crude and unimaginative taunt. Much to my surprise the jibe drew the attentions of the trio of demons looming over her prone body, causing them to blink in unison before charging over to where I was to lash out with their fiery powers.
The intensity of the flames surrounding me forced me to close my eyes lest my eyeballs be seared by the heat. I was flanked on both sides by demons who continued to pour a steady stream of unholy fire on me, literally baking the outermost layer of my quantum hide. Even as used to heat and starfire as the Dwarf was, the constant abuse was starting to take a heavy toll on both my strength and my energy.
You can do this, a voice seemed to whisper in my mind's ear as Azazela got back on her feet and once again sent forth her spectral minions to peel some of the demonic hate away from me. I honestly can't say if it had been her voice echoing in my mind or something that the Nictus in me was doing, but it seemed to fortify me just enough to let me draw in a deep breath and redouble my efforts. The sudden creaking of metal beneath my hands a few moments later only further spurred me on, knowing that my goal was within reach and that all I had to do was continue to ignore the searing flames of the demonic army and keep flexing that metal back and forth for just a bit longer...
The explosion took me by absolute surprise. The frame I was tugging on finally gave way with a sharp report, snapping off at the spot where I had made that first dent and later the crease. A literal geyser of energy promptly surged out from the broken ends of the archway, knocking me off the platform and halfway across the room. The blast was such that the demons surrounding me were turned into vapor, leaving small greasy spots on the floor where they had stood around me in a circle. The harmonic of the energy was rather low, or at least lower than the kinds of energy I was used to dealing with as a quantum entity, and so most of it was easily shrugged off by my thick hide. The part I couldn't ignore, however, was the kinetic energy it left me with as I was basically turned into a Kheldian bowling ball.
The world finally quit spinning as I fetched up against the wall, not even trying to figure out which way was which before returning to my human form. The end result was that I looked very much like a rag-doll that had been thrown into the bottom of the toy-box after a rather nasty temper-tantrum. Normal three-dimensional gravity started to assert a firm hold on me moments later, which resulted in me winding up in a rather compromising position with my rear end becoming quite unguarded as it jutted out at a somewhat prominent angle.
A hand grabbed onto my belt and tugged sharply, flipping me backwards to land flat on my back. The sudden movement left me more than a little dizzy and disoriented, but the blissful feeling of the cool floor against my formerly seared skin more than compensated for the lingering sensation of motion.
Azazela collapsed to her knees next to me, reaching out with one hand to steady herself against the wall as she labored for breath. "That..." she panted softly. "That was... amazing..."
"Yes," I agreed as I closed my eyes and tried to relax. "Yes, you were."
"Me?" she said in a startled tone, causing me to open my eyes again to glance over at her. "You were the one who stood there and destroyed the portal with all those demons around you!"
"You were the one who kept most of them busy beating on one another rather than on the large purple lobster in their face," I countered gently. "I'm not sure how your magic functions, but I know a fair number of them were having a sudden and inexplicible identity crisis back there..."
A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she looked away from me. "I know how the mind of a demon works," she murmured softly. "Deceiving such a mind to see a friend as a foe is... not difficult for me."
"Az," I said quietly, drawing her focus back to me. "I'm glad to have you on my side. You call yourself a demoness, but your heritage isn't the same as theirs. Trust me," I added as consolingly as I could, knowing that she was quietly tormented by the mere thought, "You are not like those monsters we just defeated, not in the slightest."
Azazela seemed to be at a loss for words before she simply nodded very slowly to herself. "Thank you," she said simply, her voice little more than a quiet whisper.
I gave her a gentle smile before closing my eyes again and letting out a heavy sigh. Now that the battle was over and the true danger to Paragon City was eliminated, the adrenaline in my veins was starting to fade and with it the numbing effects that usually blotted out minor aches and pains. I was keenly aware of how tired I was all of a sudden, and lying on my back with a somewhat sharp pebble poking a hole in my leg wasn't helping matters. But still, I knew that I could afford to rest for a few moments to gather my strength.
Infernal would be back, of course, but not today. Perhaps he would be able to find another way to summon an army of flaming demons to invade our dimension, but it wouldn't be through a forgotten portal in Oranbega. And if nothing else, I was now more aware of myself and my dark powers of energy than I had been an hour ago when I had answered Maria Jenkin's urgent summons. Odd how that worked out, now that I think about it. Usually death is the final event one experiences in life, but perhaps not anymore.
Could all Warshades do this? I found myself wondering as Azazela sighed and laid down next to me, every bit as out-of-breath as I still was. Was it the Nictus in me who did it? Or was there something else, something unique to me? Could it have tapped into the magical powers it displaced when it fused itself to me that night? If death is not the end like that, then what is?
It was a question that would remain with me long after my parter and I finally rose to our feet and left that underground chamber. Perhaps in the future I would find the answer to that question and many more that would arise from my existence as the Warshade called Dark Cenotaph, but only time would be able to tell.
And only in the City of Heroes.
Liberty Server
Cale Westmarch (50 Energy/Energy/Munitions Blaster)
Dark Cenotaph (50 Tri-form Warshade)
Story based on a real "City of Hereos" mission.
With special thanks to Azazela (50 Illusion/Empathy Controller)
Original story format stored at
www(dot)sailormoonv(dot)net(slash)forsaken(dot)htm