Chapter 2: Bad Romance
"With bare boughs rattling in the lonesome winds
And the dark woodlands brooding over all
Not even lightened by the rare dim sun
Which made squat shadows out of men
They called it Cimmeria
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and deep Night."
-The Nemedian Chronicles
"And the Joker pulls crimes in such an orderly manner
He must write it down in an evil day planner
His henchmen are psycho and expendable
…yet somehow completely dependable."
-The Dark Knight Is Confused, The Key of Awesome
The human brain.
Such a complicated instrument. Little more than a mass of meat capable of sending small amounts of chemical and electrical signals. Unimpressive when viewed as the sum of its parts.
Yet it pulled its species up from all its fellows, and made them master of the world. It let them construct buildings, lead armies across nations, and decipher the hidden natures of the world. For some, it let them tap the primal forces of existence. For others, it transformed them into something akin to those forces. It took this little mudball orbiting a small star, and somehow made it a vital, central part of the universe.
It made me what I am.
Yet…that fact reminds me of the other end of the blade.
So easy to break, the human mind. So easy to change.
Flaws hardwired in besides its gifts. Fallacies in logic and observation, seeing patterns where there are none, denying truth like it will disappear without your cognition. Capable of accepting, and mastering, just about anything…and so few rising to the challenge. So much lost. So much destroyed.
Marissa Mori was just one of them. So much potential in her brain, destroyed by her disgusting failure of a father. Failed in turn by those Titans, Raven and Robin, an impotent pair who could do nothing but try and contain the damage when it spilled onto those who deserved it.
I did not accept this, much like all of their wretched societal miscarriages. So I fixed it. Not an easy task…
"Who are you?"
A simple question. Young Marissa Mori stared at the Very Black Cat, sitting, as still as a clay statue, and regarding her with contrasted eyes. One black, one white.
The deep unease clawing at the girl was not lessened, her voice echoing in the empty, faded alleyways and streets. Not a shadow stirred. Not a response returned.
The girl swallowed, "W-Where am I?"
The cat maintained its silence--why was this surprising, cats can't talk--and Marissa bit back a whimper, her question ignored.
But she knew.
That store.
That crack on the pavement.
That old oak tree with every other branch twisted and broken.
She knew.
"But this CAN'T be Jump!"
No answer.
"…WHERE IS EVERYONE?"
Marissa whirled around, demanding answers of the empty streets, answers that the cat had denied her.
She got more stillness. There wasn't even wind.
She looked back, and let out a panicked whimper. The cat was gone.
…No. It wasn't.
It was walking away.
Relief clashed with anxiety. "Where am I?" She pleaded of the small animal.
This time, the cat did not ignore her. It turned to look at her briefly. Very briefly. A split second in time.
Acknowledgement.
Then it turned and resumed its walk down the street.
Marissa didn't want to be alone. Not now. "W-Wait!" Again, she wondered if she was dreaming.
But she COULDN'T be. The thought kept repeating, even as she followed the cat through the man-made desolation, through the empty, still blocks of cement given dull purpose. It couldn't be.
Too detailed. Too concise. Suffocating lucidity.
It was real. And she was alone.
She wanted answers.
And the Very Black Cat, a paradoxical shining beacon to guide her…it was part of it.
She didn't know how---she knew how. It was.
Her cat seemed to be part of it.
I have cut myself off from humanity and its limitations. In my hands are all answers. I brought peace and sanity to Marissa Mori's mind, through guidance given to her in dreams. It was a troublesome path…but that is another story. What matters is I succeeded. I gave her a chance to use her potential, as it should be used.
In the service of the future.
The brain. I know it well.
I also know the heart well. Of its many, many dark corners.
In curing Marissa, I learned to use them as a source of strength.
Now, I will use them to change the world.
Its name was Poveglia Island. Until that morning, it had been located in a lagoon in Venice, Italy.
It's absence was not noticed for some time, for very good reasons. No one lived on Poveglia; no one had lived on the island for decades. It's most recent use had been for grape-growing, and even that had been abandoned for years. Many people, knowing of its history, had probably wished for its disappearance.
When it came, no one noticed until that evening, when they looked across the Venetian Lagoon to watch the sun set only to find the distant shape of the island gone. Boats sent out by curious observers confirmed it. The island had vanished off the face of the earth.
Those that knew of its past could only feel a chill in their bones over this supposed phenomenon.
If they knew why it was gone, they would have felt far more than a chill.
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The other island's name was La Voix De Mort. Located around two hundred miles off the coast of France, its name came from the strange sounds the water made as it flowed through the island's many shoals, noise whose producer had destroyed more than a few ships and men over the centuries. Those that survived learned to avoid the shoals, and christened the island with what it had become known for: a voice for death. What little flora and fauna had been on the island had been picked clean by human scavengers and the animals they had brought during their voyages: said animals had themselves died off, leaving a rough dozen square miles of dead rock overseen by a small mountain and, several miles distant, an eons-extinct volcano.
It made it easier for the Lord to carve a chunk out of it. Specifically, so he could put something very special in its place.
Something he'd gone to great trouble to steal.
----------------
Genocide knew how strong their 'benefactor' and leader was. He'd taken them, many-time losers and never-weres, cast-offs or victims of a cruel, judgmental society, and he'd remade them into giants. Marissa Mori, who had been with the Lord even longer, and been the recipient of many gifts of her own, knew it even better.
Yet when he appeared above them in the dark night sky, dragging the charred carcass of the island he'd ripped from distant waters and teleported across the world to where they were now, they were all struck by a sense of terrified awe. So many had tried to conquer the world. It seemed possible they might be in the presence of the creature that would succeed.
"Poveglia Island." The Lord said, his voice echoing in Genocide and Marissa's head as he lowered himself down in front of him, masses of dark arcing power shooting from his body and cloaks as he began lowering the island down to its distant placement. "The last vital part needed for the end of the world."
"…WHY?" Carcinogen yelled.
"Because it's a bastion of human ignorance, terror, and suffering." The Lord said, continuing to lower the island. "The Romans first used it as a place to hold victims of the plague. Thousands died on it then. And then, when the Black Death swept through Europe, it was used for that purpose again. And not just the plague. Anyone with any signs of sickness were sent to this island, and tossed into massive pits of dead bodies before being set aflame, whether you were alive or dead. Tens of thousands died there that time; they say charred bones STILL wash up on shore. And then, at the turn of the 20th century, a lunatic asylum was built on it. Soon more dead joined all those who came before, courtesy of a doctor madder than any of his patients. They say he caused so much agony that a white mist arose from the ground and strangled him, though I suppose it could just as easily have been his patients finally turning on him. Since then, the island had been shunned, and rightfully so. Just one more of the world's many hidden atrocities." The Lord said. "Until now, anyway."
The remains of Poveglia crashed down into the carved-out segment of the mountain, a gigantic eruption of dark energies fusing the two islands together. Just like that, the noise faded, leaving only the eerie silence that had pervaded La Voix since the Lord had come to it.
"Now it serves a greater purpose. It, and all it's seen. As do you all." The Lord said, turning towards his minions. "We have twelve days. Twelve days before the celestial bodies are fully in position. Twelve…well, technically eight days before the ley lines beneath our feet properly intersect, but they'll remain that way for four months afterward, so that is beside the point. You all have your instructions and your equipment. Get to work. Carpe Noctem."
"…what?" Hyperthermia said.
"…It's Latin. It means 'seize the night'." The Lord said.
"…you want us to grab the night?"
"It means GO WORK HARD, NOW." The Lord growled. Genocide got the message and scampered off.
"I am spoiled by your company, Miss Mori." The Lord said, turning back towards where he'd fused Poveglia to Voix. Getting no response, he glanced over to the holographic controls Marissa was working, as a large shape loomed in the distant waters, bringing the many needed supplies that would be required over the next few days. "Miss Mori?"
Marissa didn't reply, her eyes focused entirely on the controls. She knew the odds of crashing her 'transport barge' was low, but not low enough that she could put it on autopilot. This was a chance for her master to win, and she refused to risk even the slightest foul up.
The Lord snapped his fingers. The motion had a harsher, more organic sound than if a normal person had done it. Almost as if he'd actually snapped a bone.
"Gah! What?" Marissa said, before a flush of deep shame covered her features. "Sorry Master."
"I said I was spoiled by your company. Though I am reminded of where it lacks. No offense." The Lord said. "Give me a timeframe."
"…uh, as of the moment…maybe seven hours for all the stuff to arrive. Eight days construction time, barring unforeseen…stuff…" Marissa stammered, still flustered. "Two more days, at most, for anything else."
"Good. Once you're done placing your machines to begin construction, I have another task for you." The Lord said, presenting Marissa with a map. "This island is riddled with caves, and I plan to have high defenses. Just in case. Scout the locations, then decide where you want to place your products. In theory, they won't be needed. In theory."
"Yes sir." Marissa said. There was no reply, and she returned to work. Much to her surprise, when she looked up nearly twenty minutes later the Lord was still there. "Sir?"
"Pondering some possible frivolities, Miss Mori. About your teammates." The Lord said. "Nothing you need to be concerned about, just some aspects to smooth over and whatnot. How are things preceding?"
"On schedule sir."
"Excellent. Let us work then. The 'kingdom of heaven' is a condition of the heart-not something that comes 'upon the earth' or 'after death'." The Lord said, vanishing in a shifting haze of black mist. The fact that Marissa knew who he was quoting, despite her not actually saying so, pleased the Lord. He suspected she would have known even if she hadn't seen him recently reviewing the works of the great philosopher. Genocide might still need some work, especially the Jamaican, but Marissa would accomplish whatever he tasked her to do.
Of that, he had no doubt.
For a while, Marissa Mori didn't even notice the temperature dropping. If her instruments hadn't registered it, she might not have noticed at all.
Even so, she didn't pay it much mind. Her techno-suit had self-regulating heating technology that would have allowed her to work outside in Siberia, if she so wanted. In fact, she'd invented it to work outside Ginnungagap (as rarely as she had to do that). Considering what the Lord had just done, and was doing, some temperature fluctuations didn't seem all that odd.
The whispering a few minutes later, however, was not as dismissible. Mainly because, normally for Marissa, she would have been able to ignore that too.
Before she realized she didn't recognize the voice. She'd had a problem with voices during her life, but they were all familiar to her. This one was not.
"Little broken one…"
"Like us…"
"Just like us…"
Marissa tried to keep her face passive, like she'd been taught, and resumed surveying the site she'd been given.
"Can hear us…"
"Can hear what awaits her…"
"Been alone so long…"
"Join us…"
Marissa tried to ignore the whispers, devoting her thoughts to resources, placement, and battle considerations.
"Soonsoonsoon…"
The whispers did not continue after that. Marissa dismissed them and began taking notes. She couldn't waste time with her problems.
"So what's your damage?"
"Huh?" Marissa said, turning to look at Hyperthermia. She'd known the woman was nearby, via her scanners, but she hadn't expected her new 'teammate' (Marissa primarily thought of her, and the other members of the new Genocide, as 'enhancement talent', which is what the Lord had told her they were. She doubted he'd said the same to them, but Marissa wasn't going to cause any friction for her master by telling THEM that) to wander over and try to strike up a conversation.
"The Lord doesn't pick prom queens and most likely to succeeds'. Maybe I'm new, but I can definitely tell that." Hyperthermia said, flexing her fingers, shimmers of heat flowing around the digits. "So what screwed YOU up?"
"…I was chosen for my use…like you were…"
"Please Mary, don't piss in my ear and tell me it's raining." Hyperthermia said. "We got picked because we didn't explode when he tried to empower us, like all those other poor sons of bitches. Apparently you aren't important enough for him to test the process. Or too important. Who cares? Maybe you were just picked to be a mechanic for that smug bastard tucked away in that tower the Lord's building."
"What…I…." Marissa stammered.
"Kyleona, do be quiet." A new voice said. Marissa's eyes snapped towards the dark mist that had appeared nearby, and quickly lowered her head and blanked her expression. "You don't require any more break time. Resume training."
"…just saying." Hyperthermia said.
"If I want you to assess your superior officer, I'll tell you to. Otherwise, do try and keep the assumptions to a minimum." The Lord said. Hyperthermia walked off without another word. "Resume working, Miss Mori."
"Yes sir."
"And do not be troubled by her implications. By the nature of what she is, she's trying to figure out the whole story, and failing."
Marissa had no reply, something she regretted later.
When the whispering started again, and took a long time to go away.
"Sir, may I ask you a question?"
The Lord didn't look at Kyleona Lynessa. He didn't have to, and part of the reason he didn't anyway was her so-called costume. Unlike her compatriots, who wore something that at least RESEMBLED a 'combat ensemble' , Kyleona had used his blank slate magical outfit to clothe herself in a bright white track-suit with white sneakers and a hoodie, flames emblazoned on the legs, arms, and shoes. Kyleona thought it looked cool: The Lord thought it looked horrendously cheap and tacky. Then again, he hadn't expected poor white trash to have much in the way of fashion. As long as she used the powers he'd implanted in her in his service and followed orders, he'd not nitpick. He had his own personal inclinations as well, and even he had to admit they didn't always look good in retrospect.
"What is it?" The Lord said, keeping his eyes on the ground, his hands pressed flat on the stone beneath his feet. Hyperthermia didn't know what he was doing, and wasn't curious enough to ask.
"Why is…"
"Because she has use in and of herself, with her own gifts." The Lord said, standing up. "Your use required outside interference from me. Why does this matter, Kyleona?
"…I don't like taking orders from someone who I could melt with a wave of my hand."
"The only reason you can do THAT, is because of me. And the only reason you think that way is because of me." The Lord said, his tone growing low and dangerous. "Believe me when I say I have far more use for her than for you. Accept what you're given. Is being one of the few to survive not enough? Would you prefer to have ended up like Simms, his own powers driving him mad?"
"…guess so." Hyperthermia said, hopping down from her rock perch. The Lord smirked wickedly.
"Ambition is good. But not understanding it is not. I speak from personal experience." The Lord said. "Keep this in mind should you wish to ask any more questions."
"How do you do that?"
"Pardon?"
"You're all black shadow stuff, how do you make it so your eyes and teeth are white?"
"Do you know how sight works, Kyleona?" The Lord said. "It involves light and the brain. I had abilities of the mind before I ascended, and a lord of darkness knows a trick or two about light."
Hyperthermia stared.
"I'm screwing with your eyes. On your way." The Lord said. Hyperthermia scampered off again. The Lord wondered if the girl wouldn't be back later, trying to probe the exact same issue.
"Behind all their personal vanity, women themselves always have an impersonal contempt for woman." The Lord said, and returned to work.
The dust that was blown into Marissa's face would have probably hurt a lot, if she hadn't been wearing a protective facial covering. That, by itself, was dismissible.
What was not was that there was no wind. Someone had thrown the dust in her face.
Switching her face-plate to scanning mode, Marissa's held an arm out as an electrified blade sprang from her gauntlet. Marissa took a few seconds to adjust the voltage before she began to look around, trying to find her attacker. At first, she thought one of the Genocide members was trying to amuse themselves. She quickly dismissed that after a quick sweep: none of them were experienced enough in their powers to hide from her technology. But without them…
She was alone.
"Not alone…"
"One of us…"
"So much like us…"
Marissa felt the dryness start to grow in her mouth, her eyes continuing to scan around. She'd been on the fence for some time, but now she was certain the voices were not in her head. They didn't match. Which meant it was an outside force, and one her technology couldn't recognize. And that made her nervous, no matter what the situation.
What was it? Some sort of residual effect of the magic the Lord was tapping, or manipulating to get what he wanted? Was it affecting her, or the island? Or…
The voice that howled in her ear was nowhere near a whisper. It was a full-on shriek.
"So, at this point, you abandoned the location and returned here to report to me." The Lord said, a large block of black crystal in front of him. As he finished speaking, he pointed at it, and a segment of it broke off and drifted to another table of stone.
"Yes sir." Marissa said quietly. She did not tell the Lord how she had screamed, and kept screaming for at least a third of her flight. And how she'd stopped said flight by hiding behind a rock and scanning around with her personal sidearm for six minutes before she'd finally moved again. Or the sick disgust and weakness she'd felt afterward for reacting that way. She hoped and prayed the Lord wouldn't pry. If he saw her weakness…
"Right then. Based on your observations, what do you think is happening?"
Marissa was silent.
"Miss Mori?" The Lord said, turning his head slightly.
"…well…sir…you talked about the terrible things humanity did here…could it be possible that whatever power you're accessing is reinforcing an…imprint of sorts? Causing an echo?"
"You mean spirits of the dead, I assume."
"I…really don't know sir. All I know is my equipment is not reading it correctly."
"And do you think you are reading it correctly, Miss Mori?" The Lord said, a dark glint in his eye.
"…yes." Marissa said quietly.
"Very well then. Do you not want to return to those areas? Or, should I go out and see what is going on myself?" The Lord said, resuming his work on the crystal.
"I'm worried that whatever it is, sir, could interfere with your plans."
"If it could, you wouldn't have to report it to me." The Lord said. "All the same, I'll do my own investigating. Scout out another location, Miss Mori. Or crunch whatever data you have. I'd rather not eat into our buffer any more than we have to."
"…yes sir." Marissa said, and hurried off. She'd wasted enough of his time. The operation was on a critical time frame, and she couldn't jeopardize it any further. Especially not if it was her fault.
The master had worked hard to make her well. She could not ruin his work.
The Lord did not watch her go, making a few more gestures as he adjusted the crystal. He stopped to look at it, one hand on his chin.
"…Convictions are more dangerous foes of truth than lies." The Lord mused.
His hand abruptly snapped out, black arcs of power surging into the shadows and yanking Carcinogen into the Lord's grip. The Jamaican's wide eyes stood in stark contrast to his dark skin, but strangely, he did not speak. Possibly because the Lord was sealing his mouth shut.
"I can hear your ignorant thoughts, Tremaine. All the time, and ESPECIALLY when you think you're spying." The Lord said. "I dislike the assumptions you make based on your own experiences. Just because you were property doesn't mean all property is created equal. My reasons are my own, and I will only tolerate questioning of them to a degree. I allowed you and your fellows free will and independent thought, but it becomes clear that you still require a few adjustments."
The Lord raised his other hand, his finger elongating out into a claw.
"The unfortunate part is, this will hurt. The fortunate part? You won't remember the pain."
Carcinogen made no sound, but the Lord heard his screams echoing in his mind.
He tried not to enjoy them too much. He had work to do.
Marissa didn't know if the whispering had decided to stay away or if it was just biding it's time. She had hoped it was gone for good.
Except, deep down, she had known it would return. The contrast between what she want and what she knew had made her sick, her stomach constantly clenching in nausea and her hands shaking when she tried to do fine tasks. Marissa forced her appendage to stop its nervous thrumming each time, and every time she had to do so, she wondered what was worse. The anticipation, or what it would mean if it came.
When it came.
It did, when she was seeing the last of her mechanisms into one of the caves she'd selected for its concealment.
"You think you're different from us?!"
Marissa jerked up, her taser-sword extending and hunting for a target.
The abrupt ice-cold wind chilled her to the bone, a long howl sounding beneath the gale. Marissa kept searching around, looking for a target, but her systems couldn't find anything.
"We taught all who came before!"
"You are no different!"
"You belong with us! Scream with us!"
Marissa swallowed, lowering her weapon and trying to control her body as it trembled. She couldn't let this affect her, whatever it was. The master's plan was more important. She could ignore words, even loud words inside her head, even wind, as long as she focused on the plan.
All she had to do, was focus on the plan. She sealed the cave up.
Which was when the face appeared in her vision.
Marissa's shriek was swallowed up by the face's own, the young girl staggering back and falling onto her rear. More faces appeared, distorted distortions lacking any semblance of sense, all laughing, crying, screaming at her.
Before vanishing without a trace.
Said trace quickly returned, as black cracks erupted across the ground in front of Marissa, and before her horrified eyes turned into a word.
DIE.
"EAT YOU ALL UP!"
"NO HELP!"
"NO HIDING!"
"WILL BE PART OF US ALL!"
The next thing Marissa remembered was falling to her knees. Considering she didn't remember getting up, that was saying something. She started at the dark ground beneath her hands, before the pain in her legs reached her. Panting and gasping in air, she looked up at where she was: it was some distance from where the presence had threatened her.
Marissa spent some time sitting where she had fallen, looking back the way she had come. Raw, sick fear surged through her the entire time, and it wasn't just in regards to the strange, hostile presence.
She still had work to do, and the tormenting, angry voices weren't going to go away. But she couldn't go back to the master. He had too many problems already. She couldn't add her troubles to his.
He had no sympathy or pity for weakness. He'd have none for her. Marissa felt a small sob escape her throat as she stared at the ground, her eyes hot and aching. She didn't want to go back. She didn't want to leave.
…she could not let down the Lord. If he had been where she was, he'd fight through what would oppose him. Like he always did.
She had to do the same. She had to pull herself together, and face this.
"…It wants you to break." Marissa whispered to herself. "That's the only reason it would do this. Don't do it. Won't do it. He wouldn't. I won't. I…won't."
Eventually, Marissa found she could stand again.
The voices did not take long to return. Steeling her thoughts as best she could, she forced herself forward.
The Lord would have admitted it if asked: he was somewhat impressed of the way Aguardiente appeared before him. Of all the new members of Genocide currently active, Brody Whelan seemed to have taken to his new state the best. Considering how much time he'd spent in prison, it wasn't that surprising.
"Yes?" The Lord said, his hands out as he gestured every now and then, moving gigantic pieces in the distance.
"Something's wrong master." Aguardiente said, hesitating just a bit before the last word.
"If you wish you can just call me Lord. Using it as my name, not as a title." The Lord said. "I cannot believe in a God who wants to be praised all the time."
"…I'm sorry."
"You have no need to be sorry yet. You chafe under unjust hands. There is a small role you can play in avoiding that. What is it?"
"Something's wrong. I was off on the beach, and the waves started speaking."
"Speaking?"
"As in, talking. Yelling." Aguardiente said. "At first I thought it was some training trick, but it wouldn't stop, no matter what I did. I don't think it's an intruder either. It's…weird. I thought I should tell you."
"Hmmmmmm." The Lord mused. "It would seem unlikely that something like that could escape my notice. However, this is a large project, and my attention is stretched thin. Go somewhere else, and report back to me if the same thing occurs. I'll go investigate the beach later."
"Yes Lord." Aguardiente said, turning around, his blue cloaks shifting around him.
"Have you changed your mind about the sc-…"
"No." Aguardiente said, leaving. The Lord, despite himself, chuckled.
"It says nothing against the ripeness of a spirit that it has a few worms." The Lord said. In the distance, a hundred story tower rose.
Perhaps the Lord should have investigated Aguardiente's claims. Perhaps Genocide shouldn't have been so put-off by the behavior of their so-called superior. Perhaps Marissa Mori should have made a decision under less duress.
Free will and choice so often seemed strange bedfellows.
The screams and faces, the wind and chill, Marissa had found she could endure all that, as she forced her way through her tasks. It was when familiar faces began to appear among the snarling ghosts that Marissa had finally faltered once more.
They were faces she barely remembered, and had not thought of for a long time. Faces whose barely-hidden scorn and disgust had driven her down this path. Faces she had transformed into agonized expressions of terror and pain. Or rather, she hadn't. That was what the master had taught her.
Yet here they were, former classmates and teachers, yelling and screaming at her. Several times, they actually seemed to take physical form and lunge at her. The first time, she'd managed to duck. The second time, she hadn't made it in time. It had gone right through her, giving her a sense of biliousness that made her earlier pain seem like mild heartburn.
Many times, she wanted to break and run, and not come back.
Every time, she came back to the same conclusion, and pressed on.
The visions did not lessen. If anything, they grew worse. It seemed like hours since the whispering, snarling, and cursing in her ear had started without an end. She had seen black cats sitting on her machines, detaching and pawing their heads around, and speaking in low tones calling her the queen of lying. She'd seen corpses that reached to touch her and then disappeared when she blinked. Twice, she'd seen floating guns in the corner of her vision, pressed against her temple, only for them to vanish as well, whenever she turned to face them directly.
She'd lost all sense of time. She'd run out of tears.
But she knew where she was. Her last location, buried within a cave near the sea shore. The never-entered abyss reeked of stagnant sea water, Marissa having walked through several brackish pools of it to reach a suitable case for her beacon.
The numbers and letters on her equipment were gone, replaced with BURN IN HELL and YOU DESERVED IT. Marissa typed her commands from memory. Instead of a signal tone indicating she'd properly entered the data, the machine laughed at her. She sensed, and felt, endless presences around her, all of their voices blurring together and speaking in the same voice…
The gun was back. She heard it click.
"…if you were going to kill me, I think you would have done it by now." Marissa said. "Even if you had to gain strength from being alone for so long. In which case, you want me to do the work. I will not."
Marissa stood up, reaching up to push the gun away. Her hand made it fade into the ether it had come from. Her chest hurt, and her knees wobbled as she looked around, but she remained where she was, the myriad of twisting shapes thrashing around her.
"I have something to do. To live for. I have no place among you. Good bye."
The cave went dead silent.
For a moment, Marissa considered running. Then she decided that might undermine what she had said and prompt retaliation, and so turned to walk.
In truth, what happened next would have happened no matter what she did.
The force slammed into the small of her back. Marissa managed to activate her personal shield before she was hammered into the wall with bone-shattering force. Another button activated her emergency beacon, and the third one caused her crackling electrical blade to extend from her personal gauntlet, as she tried to twist from the grip of the forces that held even as she futilely tried to attack it.
They were screaming again. So many screams. She had drawn them all in time, as the supposed weakest link. Her defiance had prompted their rage to explode, and in the way of things outside the world, said rage would have fatal consequences. Marissa swiped a few more times before she was slammed down against the cave floor and dragged across it. She felt a clawing hand seize her face plate and rip it off like it was made of cheap plastic.
"DIEWORTHLESSWHORE!"
The cold foulness of the sea water engulfed Marissa's head as the forces plunged her into one of the standing water puddles. Raw panic sent adrenaline exploding through Marissa, as she fought with the fury of a cornered animal to get free.
Before her electrical gauntlet, also by tearing hands, was violently forced into the water as well. The rehabilitating current blasted through Marissa, a vicious rending buzz that slammed a thousand needles of heat into her muscles. Her armor's systems unable to stop the voltage for a few seconds, and a few seconds was all that was needed to undermine Marissa's efforts to free herself, a paralyzing weight settling onto her efforts to be free.
They did not stop. The will of an animal to live was strong.
But as strong as that was, centuries of festering hatred from thousands of trapped souls was stronger.
The worst part was, she knew the water was shallow. She could FEEL the air she needed above her with her grasping, pushing arms, but the vehemence kept her head under water, inches from freedom that she couldn't cross. She kept fighting, each second passing like an hour, a burning vice beginning to close on her chest. She felt her right wrist break as the screaming rage bore down on her, forcing her head into the water even more. She felt water filling up her throat…
The stronger hand seized her and yanked her free. Marissa found her lungs clear a second later, dark power yanking the water out. Her mind was too addled to hear the cacophony of screams somehow increase in timber even more. All she recognized was the black shape holding her.
The Lord's words slid across her mind like a brand.
"Regret? You have not BEGUN to feel regret."
Darkness claimed Marissa Mori again. This time though, she went with relieved comfort.
"Miss Mori?"
Marissa was aware she was starting to leave a dreamless sleep, and that a voice had spoken as she had begun to awake.
"Listen carefully. You are in an isolation tank, back in Ginnungagap. I placed you there to recover after your encounter. That is the water you feel. Do not panic."
Despite the Lord's words, Marissa felt fear crawl through her veins anyway. She was becoming aware of the warm water she was laying in, a breathing mask on her face. The isolation tank was pitch dark, but at least it was large and not confining, as Marissa's quickened movements could not find the sides or the roof.
"Do you want light?"
Marissa nodded. A moment later, she realized that this likely could not be seen. A moment after that, she was proven wrong, as several dim lights turned on inside the isolation tank.
"There's a button to your side that will open the tank. Join us when you are ready, but do not take TOO long, if you would."
Marissa didn't. She wanted out of the water, and quickly. The button opened the top as promised, and Marissa climbed out to find herself in one of the rooms in the Lord's main base, buried deep in the Antarctic. The Ginnungagap, as he'd recently named it. Apparently it had something to do with Norse myth.
Marissa looked down at herself, noting she was still dressed in the outfit she'd had on Voix, though the combat armor and boots had been removed. She wasn't sure what to make of that fact, as she looked around and tried to assess exactly where in the base she was.
"There is a list of tasks for you to do before you leave. Get to them when you will, but do not take TOO long. When you are ready to leave, indicate you are by crossing an X on the marked spot on the parchment."
Said parchment was on the wall by the exit door. Marissa took it and looked it over: it asked for a few simple tasks that would not be difficult or long. It also told her she was near her room, which Marissa gladly headed for to change her damaged uniform.
At least, that was the plan. Instead, Marissa found herself sitting on her bed, staring at the wall. She did this for an indeterminate length of time, her thoughts jumbled and sorrowful.
It ended with the small black cat jumped up onto her bed and mewed, wanting attention. Marissa petted the cat for a bit, finding the process helped calm her somewhat. Getting dressed, Marissa began attending to the tasks she'd been given. All the while, as she checked the base's security, made sure the 'special guests' were comfortable (she didn't see much of said guests recently: she had no idea if that was intentional or not), and made sure the actual guests were fed and content, the small black cat followed at her heels.
It was sitting at a table while she considered if she wanted to eat something that she finally worked up the courage to what had consumed her thinking process the whole time.
"Sir?"
There was no reply. Marissa waited. After several minutes, the voice spoke in her mind.
"I answer, Miss Mori."
"What happened?"
"I brought you back here after the incident. Do not worry about your assigned tasks. You completed them to the needed degree, enough that I could finish the job."
Marissa was silent, staring at the table.
"I sense your regret, Miss Mori. If you're going to feel bad because you did not personally complete your assignment, I am to blame. I did not take your report as seriously as I should have. You were right. There WAS a vindictive force on the island. Those who died here had a more literal presence then I expected."
"…that still doesn't answer…what happened…"
"You were assaulted, Miss Mori. By legions of angry spirits. My tasks and the energies I was manipulating managed to obscure them enough to keep them away from my immediate attention. I didn't realize they were there until it was almost too late. I…do apologize for that."
Marissa didn't reply again. Mewing, the black cat jumped into her lap, and she petted it for a bit.
"In any case, I have properly dealt with those spirits. They have been punished for their crime. Virtually everything else is completed. We are eighteen hours, give or take, before final initiations. When you are ready to return, you know the method. Make sure you eat before you come here. You likely won't get the chance to for some time."
Marissa nodded, spending some time making herself a meal and eating it, the small black cat sitting on the table and watching her as she did so. Putting the dishes away, she checked over the list of tasks once more, and then did a once-over of the tasks she had already completed. With that done, she crossed off the mark on the paper, watching the words disappear and be replaced with a new, singular instruction: to go to a certain room. Checking her person to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, she headed towards it, the black cat trailing after her.
She felt her hair beginning to stand on end as she entered the designated room. The walls, floor, and roof were covered with sigils and runes, and the center of the room was taken up by a white metal structure of incomprehensible design. From various parts of the structure, black crystals jutted, swirling dark energies within them. Marissa walked up to it, looking at the setup with relative disinterest. She'd been in here before.
The scent of burning ozone filled her nose, and Marissa briefly had an intense sense of vertigo as the ripping noise echoed across the room. She turned around to see the portal, an ebony hole in thin air, strange colors dancing beyond.
"Wait one moment, Miss Mori. I am sending something through."
The black cat, still at Marissa's side, mewed, its fur comically frizzed up. Marissa knelt down and smoothed it out as best she could, feeling the cat purr beneath her hand.
The portal pulsed, and something emerged from the air and drifted towards Marissa. She reached out and took it, regarding the dark crystal in her hand, nearly identical to the ones on the edifice behind her. It hummed in her grip, cool to the touch.
"Another Shard. I decided to add it to the stockpile rather than try and find a new bolthole to hide it in. Insert it and then enter the portal. It will take you to the island."
Marissa did what she was told, finding an empty socket on the metal edifice and placing the crystal carefully into it. It would not break if she dropped it, but that did not keep her from using a delicate touch.
"That is all, Miss Mori. Your transportation awaits."
The cat mewed, rubbing up against Marissa's legs as she started towards the gateway. She reached down and petted him a bit more before she left. The cat watched her go, as Marissa stepped through the portal and vanished. The rift sealed itself after she was through, leaving the cat in the room.
Left alone, the cat washed itself a bit before sitting down and watching the door. Nothing would get at the structure behind it. It was on the job.
Falling.
Every time she did this, Marissa felt like she was falling. Blind, deaf, and hurling downward towards an unknown point of landing. The first she'd experienced it, she'd ended up bed-ridden for two days from the shock of re-entering proper reality. Now, she barely noticed.
Clarification came flooding back to her a moment before her feet set down on the rock. She blinked away the darkness, staring out at the ocean waves before her. She'd been brought back on a cliff.
"Over here, Miss Mori."
Marissa turned around.
The citadel before her filled her vision, seemingly dwarfing the mountain it had been carved into. It partly reminded Marissa of a grasping hand, with the other aspect that of blades, all black stone and crystal interlaced and extended away from each other, both artfully constructed and deformed at the same time, a looming vision of death. She'd seen it being constructed, but missing the final moments of its creation made it impressive all over again.
Genocide did not seem as impressed, as they stood or sat around where the Lord was, on top of a rock outcropping. The tower before him crackled and surged with dark energies, a whirlpool of black clouds swirling around the sky above it. Any observer familiar with fiction probably would have found it comical, if the air wasn't filled with a sense of oppressive dread.
"Some of our finest work, is it not, Miss Mori?" The Lord said.
Hyperthermia, being in a position to actually look at Marissa, could tell. She wasn't brilliant, like her new master, but she could read faces well enough. Marissa didn't like the structure. In fact, she seemed outright bothered by it.
"Yes sir." Marissa said. Hyperthermia cocked her head, realizing that the master's right hand was lying through her teeth…
And, when she glanced at the Lord, seeing the ghost of a smirk cross his face, she realized he knew it too. She felt deeply bothered by the whole thing, and turned back to look at the fortress slash weapon she'd had a minor hand in making.
"Etemenanki." The Lord said, 'cupping' the structure in his hand. "The Sumerian ziggurat that was said to inspire the Tower of Babel. Do you read the bible, Genocide?"
"Not any more. It's all bullshit." Aguardiente said. Carcinogen just grunted, while Hyperthermia shook her head.
"Mankind grew proud, and tried to build a tower that would reach God. God grew angry in turn, and shattered the tower, casting men down and cursing them with many languages, so that they could never unite in such a way again." The Lord said. "I do not have to reach God. I will simply burn what he made and replace it with something better."
"So…sir? What IS the plan?" Hyperthermia said.
"Some time ago, I was given a gift. This book." The Lord said, producing a tome from within his shadowy cloaks. "The Zelmotta Arcana, a vade mecum of magical knowledge and spells. Within its pages, I learned of something beyond our reality. There are many forms of existence, some lying in juxtaposition beside each other by razor thin margins. Dimensions of chaos, of paradise, of void…and power. I knew this already, of course, but the Arcana allowed me to learn of a specific one. The Aeternus Locus. Roughly translated, the Foreverwhere."
"So…we've built this thing to access it?" Carcinogen asked.
"Oh no Tremaine. Accessing it is another matter." The Lord said. "That was actually the part that occupied my primary efforts. You see, there are times when the barriers between such dimensions as ours and the Locus thins, and it is possible for one to cross between them. Normally, one must take heed at this. Terrible creatures and energies can bleed through the rift, and likewise, what we know as reality could poison what another plane deems as its norm. That is not a concern here. The Foreverwhere is one thing, and one thing only. Power. Raw, unlimited power. Some have said when universes are being made, and are to be touched with the spark of magic, the Foreverwhere is where the spark comes from."
"…so…it's thinning here?"
"Ah Tremaine. No." The Lord said. "The magicians of this world are not fools. They know when the stars will line up, and where the soft spots between our realms will occur. They will be, and are, watching those areas. Making sure no one attempts to open anything there. But magic is not a mindset that allows change easily. The magicians of this world, as powerful as they may be, are hampered by outmoded thinking. I am not going to take advantage of the universe's axis to enter a softened spot. I have instead placed myself, and this building, down on a nexus of ley lines, the veins of mystical power laid over this world that all magicians draw their energies from. A nexus that the magicians will likely not notice or pay attention to, with their need to watch established weak points in the world. I don't need a weak point. I'm going to make a brand new door."
"…so why did you build this then?"
"I have my reasons." The Lord said. "The primary need was making the hole. To do that, I needed ground soaked in blood and misery, in the darkest traits of man. Using that, I was going to make the hole. I wondered if it was enough…until I discovered I was so focused on that issue, I almost missed the legions of tormented spirits bound to the island of Poveglia."
"Is that what's screaming in the basement?" Aguardiente said.
"Yes." The Lord said plainly. "Do not go down there. Any of you. You likely will not survive the experience."
Marissa stared at the Lord, and had to fight back the sensation that she was going to pass out. The master had…taken the spirits and…done…WHAT? In the basement? Was he using…?
She didn't want to know. If she was the type, she would have prayed not to.
"With that said, everything is in position." The Lord said, turning around. "Soon, I will initiate the final part of the plan. And with that, I will remake the world. You will all stand witness. And if anyone tries to stop me…you will stand against them."
"Now you're talking my language." Carcinogen said, cracking his neck.
"Sir…is anyone coming?" Hyperthermia asked.
"In theory, no. But theory is just that." The Lord said. "Should it be proven wrong…then I am ready. More ready than anything anyone could bring to bear against me. Do try and keep me from being proven wrong, Genocide. Faith should be rewarded."
The Lord turned around, his cloaks of darkness flapping around him.
"After all, as Sun Tzu said, invincibility lies in the defense."
"And the possibility of victory in the attack." Aguardiente said. Marissa saw a brief flash of irritation cross the Lord's features.
"Very good, Mr. Whelan. Let's try and make that possibility as small as possible, shall we? Many a man fails as a good thinker because his memory is too good." The Lord said. "Miss Mori, there's a platform over there to take you to Etemenanki. Once you're inside, run one final diagnostic on all your equipment. Also give a final examination to the shy one. I believe he's fully prepared, but I missed some things already."
"Yes sir." Marissa said, as she headed for the platform.
"The rest of you, you can get to Etemenanki under your own steam. Eat and get some sleep. In fact, ingest the pharmacons I've provided you, it will ensure you get sleep, and deal with other issues of the body I don't want bothering you at this point in time."
"The what now?" Hyperthermia said. The Lord sighed.
"The medicine, Kyleona. The pills."
"Oh." Hyperthermia said. "…so that's it? Go snack and nap while you do the rest?"
"Yes."
"And that's all of the plan we need to know?" Carcinogen asked.
"Yes." The Lord said. "If I needed you to know more, I would have said so. I take my plans very seriously."
"Of course, sir." Carcinogen said, crossing his arms.
"You don't like not knowing all the details. That is intentional. Loose lips sink ships, as an old saying goes." The Lord said. "If you really want to know more, well, in terms of plans, I plan to live forever."
The Lord turned back to Etemenanki, the fortress seething with unnatural energies.
"So far, that's gone well."
No sun rose on the island. The suffocating mass of black clouds above the island kept it far away.
Dressed once more for combat, Marissa sat in the chair in front of her nerve center. The readings were the same as they had been for the past four hours. Nearby, Carcinogen slouched in a corner, smoking a cigarette. Hyperthermia and Aguardiente were elsewhere, likely outside.
Possibly to get away from the noise.
The chant filled the hallways, a low dissonancy that bothered the fledgling members of Genocide. Marissa, on the other hand, was used to the ancient, foreboding languages the Lord used to cast spells. What bothered her was the faintest of undertones beyond the chant, the sound of agonized screaming. Marissa didn't look further into the possibility. She already didn't want to know what was in the lowest levels.
The air hummed with discord, and Marissa felt the water bottle vibrating slightly in her hand as she picked it up. She drank and checked the readings once more.
This time, she did a double take. Scanning in to make sure she wasn't in error, she stared at what lay on her screen.
A moment later, she yanked a device out of the computer cluster and spun out of her chair. Carcinogen watched with dull interest as she ran from the room. Marissa sprinted through several hallways and then, in a rather strange change of motion, jumped into a pit.
Her fall slowed down gradually as she entered the room, and she landed as light as a feather behind the Lord. The power in the room bored into her, rattling her bones and humming in her teeth. The Lord's cloaks seemed larger than ever, filling her sight with a ragged wall of shifting black.
Which moved aside as the Lord turned around, one arm still behind him. Marissa briefly glanced at what lay beyond the Lord and found the process hurt her eyes. She promptly placed her full focus on her master, and did her best not to deviate.
"What is it, Miss Mori?" The Lord said, his tone neutral.
"Something's coming. Under the water."
"Something?"
"I can't get specifics. My scanners almost missed it entirely." Marissa said. "…I think it's a team. Maybe-"
The Lord cut Marissa off with a gesture. Dark sparks of energy danced in his eyes.
"Nothing can ever be simple, can it Miss Mori?" The Lord said.
The cloaks began to contort down onto the Lord, aspects of it merging and firming into metal armor on his chest, arms, and legs. More of the shadows flowed up into a upward crown of blades, his free hand becoming a metallic clawed glove in turn.
"Then again…we went to so much effort to prepare all these defenses." The Lord said. "It would be something of a shame if they were to go to waste."
Marissa nodded, as the Lord examined his clawed hand briefly, his other one still aimed behind him.
"Return to your station. Get Genocide to theirs. Await my order. If you need one, and I do not speak, then I trust your decision-making ability."
"Yes sir." Marissa said, turning and fleeing into the darkness off the room. The Lord watched her go, and then turned his attention back to his clawed hand. Dark mist and sparking energies surged up between his fingers.
"The man who is to be great is the one who can be the most solitary, the most deviant, the man beyond good and evil, lord of his virtues, a man lavishly endowed with will--this is precisely what greatness is to be called: it is able to be as much as totality as something multi-faceted, as wide as it is full." The Lord said. "If anyone wants to stand between me and what is mine, they better damn well be ready to face that fact."
The energies scattered as the Lord closed his hand violently. Around him, dark ripples and echoes sparked in unseen mechanisms.
"Come, my guests. I extend the same invitation to you." The Lord said. "CARPE NOCTEM."
