To 8Ball3- Shooting, decapitation- I'll take anything at the moment :P Internet Explorer is faster than Zoom meetings! XD She's hit her moody Roman teens, just wait it out. Lester is a whole ass mood, I love this kid
As he wheezed and huffed up the hill, he found himself humming 'Ride of the Valkyries'. He looked up, squinting in the rain, pushing his soaked hair back, gasping for air. He was about a third of the way up, legs trembling, stomach broiling with acid. A neigh caught his ear, a dark mass whizzing past him, feathers cuffing him on the back of the head. Storm snorted at him, amused. Her lower legs were caked with mud and monster dust, water dripped from her mane and glistened on her coat. She snuffled his face, snorted again, you look like you're having fun.
"I'm not." Apollo puffed. "Where's your rider?" Storm looked somewhere over her left shoulder, huffing in the direction of the city. "She left you here?" The mare spread her wings proudly. She had stayed behind to fight.
She nudged him in the chest, turning and jerking her head; Get on, Zombie Boy.
Apollo didn't object, climbing up. Storm launched herself skyward, the rain slathering his skin. They reached the summit in no time. He looked down.
The hills were a scarred wasteland of trenches partially buried from earthquakes, littered with shattered armour and broken war machines. A hundred yards down Highway 24, the emperors' troops had formed in columns. Instead of thousands, there were now only a couple of hundred: some Germanus bodyguards, Khromandae- they looked like drowned rats- pandai and other humanoids tribes. He could see no myrmekes, just the destroyed ground where they had been.
At the entrance to the Caldecott Tunnel, directly beneath him and the pegasus, waited the remnants of the Twelfth Legion. About three dozen ragged demigods formed a shield wall across the inbound lanes. They stood in three lines, armed with whatever weapons had survived this far. A young woman Apollo didn't recognise held the legion's standard, which could only mean that Jacob had either been killed or gravelly wounded. The over-heated gold eagle smoked so badly, Apollo could hardly make out its form. It wouldn't be zapping anymore enemies today.
Hannibal the elephant stood with the troops in his Kevlar armour, his trunk and legs bleeding from dozens of cuts. In front of the line towered an eight-foot-tall Kodiak bear- Frank. Three arrows bristled in his shoulder, but his claws were out and ready for more battle.
Apollo's heart twisted. "As a bear… three arrows may not bother him. But what will happen when he turns human again?" Storm huffed, shaking her head. Apollo wasn't sure if she was sharing his concern or wanted him off to continue kicking enemies in the face.
As for the survivors, he simply could not believe they were all that remained of three cohorts. Maybe the missing were wounded rather than dead. Perhaps he should have taken comfort in the possibility that, for every legionnaire who had fallen, hundreds of enemies had been destroyed. His gaze fell on the back of Storm's head- the mare was facing the city, ears laid back. Apollo looked too, seeing water sloshing over roof fires. How much worse would things have been if Louisa hadn't come back when she did?
The remaining legionnaires were set to hold their ground, but they looked so tragic, so hopelessly outnumbered, guarding the camp's entrance. Apollo looked beyond the highway, out to the bay. How much damage had Louisa and the commando team done?
The right side was almost completely annihilated; the two or three ships on that flank had definitely seen better days. The left side was more or less intact, but had still suffered under the right's decimation. What remained of the fleet, regardless of its flooded, battered condition, were in position, ready to rain destruction upon them.
Even if they somehow managed to defeat all the enemies on the highway, they had no way of taking out the last of the ships. Their best bet was currently fighting to defend the city. He thought of Lavinia and her plan- had she failed? Oh gods, she had failed. The emperors only had to give the word and Camp Jupiter would be nothing more than a smoking crater.
The clop of hooves and rattle of wheels drew his attention back to the enemy lines. Their columns parted. The emperors themselves had come out to parley, standing side-by-side in a golden chariot.
Commodus and Caligula were clad head-to-toe in Imperial gold: greaves, kilts, breastplates, gloves, helmets, all with elaborate gorgon and Fury designs encrusted with precious gems. Their faceplates were fashioned like grimacing demons.
Pulling the chariot were two white horses. No, not horses. Storm bristled and whinnied furiously, outraged by the ugly scars on her brethren's backs, either side of their spine. She spread her wings to fight, to avenge theirs. Apollo tugged on her mane, but she launched herself down, landing in front of the shield wall, snorting and grunting, shaking her head. Apollo clung on, teeth chattering with her bounding and bucking.
It was the other pegasi that saved his teeth. They whickered forlornly, ears flicking, miserable tail swishes. Storm pawed the ground, neighed. Whatever they discussed, they came to an agreement. Storm stilled, breathing heavily as her rage still seethed.
Commodus- the taller, broader-shouldered shiny emperor- leaned towards Caligula. Caligula shook his head.
"I don't care whose pegasus it is, I will kill it and have done with this nonsense." Commodus said something else. "No, I can't see her." Apollo blinked. Commodus's eyesight had not returned as much as he had hoped.
Caligula turned away from his colleague, finally noticing the rider. "Apollo, is that you?" He cackled. "Why, there's not much to do with you! Hardly worth my time."
Hands trembling, Apollo loaded his bow, aiming at Caligula's face. His aim was true, but the emperor swatted aside the projectile as though it were a bothersome fly. "Don't embarrass yourself, Lester. Let the leaders talk." He turned his grimacing mask to the Kodiak bear. "Well, Frank Zhang? You have a chance to surrender with honour. Bow to your emperor!"
"Emperors." Commodus corrected.
"Yes, of course." Caligula said smoothly. "Praetor Zhang, you are duty-bound to recognise Roman authority and we are it! Together, we can rebuild this camp and raise your legion to glory! No more hiding! No more cowering behind Terminus's weak boundaries! It is time to be true Romans and conquer the world! Join us. Do not prove yourself a coward." Apollo grit his teeth. He shot at Commodus this time; a petty shot, aiming at a blind emperor, but he too swatted the arrow away.
"Cheap shot, Apollo!" He yelled. "There's nothing wrong with my hearing or reflexes!"
The Kodiak bear bellowed. With one claw, he broke the arrow shafts in his shoulder. He shrank, changing back into Frank. The arrow stubs pierced his breastplate at the shoulder. He had lost his helmet. The injured side of his body was soaked in blood, but his expression was pure determination.
Next to him, Hannibal trumpeted and pawed the ground, ready to charge.
"No, buddy." Frank glanced at his remaining comrades, weary and wounded, but still ready to follow him to the death. "Enough blood has been shed." Caligula nodded in agreement.
"So, Frank Zhang. Do you yield?"
Hazel wasn't sure when Louisa turned up- before, with or after the Fourth arrived- but gods, was she glad she was there. Hazel had been unable to re-seal the sewers, so Louisa had flooded them. It was a temporary measure, but it brought them so much needed time.
"Help!" A voice cried. "Help us!" Louisa turned, finding the cry instantly. A young boy had cracked open an upper window, waving a yellow pillowcase to get her attention. Smoke rose from the back of the house.
"I'm comin'!" Louisa shouted back, charging forward. The front door to their home was slathered in growing flames, losing its surrounding porch. The boy waved the pillowcase again, sobbing. Louisa shoved through the fire, the door giving way to her as it crumbled under her shoulder slam.
Inside wasn't much better. The house was quickly filling with smoke, the fire had begun to spread into the living room on her left.
"Up here!" The boy pleaded. Louisa clapped once as she ran to the stairs, the plumbing responding to her immediately. It exploded from behind every wall it resided, slathering the flames with water. Steam mingled with the smoke, she willed it to cool. She took the stairs two at a time, finding the rear of the house ablaze. The bathroom erupted with a tug of her hand, shooting upwards in a geyser and veering to the roof fire. She heard the boy calling for from one of the front bedrooms.
"I'm here, I'm here!" She called, pushing the door open. The boy was no older than five, freckled with soot creased by tear stains. He stood protectively near a crib, a baby girl hardly a year old coughing and crying, balling her tiny fists in protest. "It's alright." Louisa assured. "There anyone else in the house?" The boy shook his head. Louisa scooped him up, he clung to her, trembling, terrified. She picked the baby up in her other arm and turned to the window. "Hold on, kid."
Hazel looked up as the glass shattered, the window frame buckling under a torrent of water. Louisa clambered out, the wraparound porch creaking under her weight. She jumped straight off, landing on a water bubble and falling to her knees as it popped under impact. "You OK?" She asked the boy, trying to see his face. "It's OK, kid. Hazel's gonna take ya somewhere safe, alright?" He nodded weakly. Louisa stood as Arion trotted over.
"Hi." Hazel smiled, lifting the boy from her cousin's hold. "What's your name?"
"Tiago." He pointed at his little sister as she was passed up, still mewling. "That's Marie."
"I'm Hazel. This is Arion. Hold on now, he's very fast." Arion took off. Louisa stood, head spinning. She and Hazel had set up an emergency evacuation point on Temple Hill. She had no idea where Tiago and Marie's parents were, or if there had been anyone looking after them.
She faced the house, seeing a part of the roof cave under fire. Throwing her hands up, she called on the plumbing's water again, coating all the flames.
There was more to do.
Hazel and Arion returned to see her darting into another house through a downstairs window, just a little ways down the street. She emerged a minute later, carrying an elderly man in a fireman's lift and his yapping Yorkshire terrier under her arm. Smoke smeared her cheeks and she couldn't keep back a cough.
There were three more houses on this street that needed putting out. Some civilians had stayed behind to rescue and try and control the blazes. It wasn't until Louisa stepped in did they get any progress.
"There's someone still in that one!" One of the civilians pointed at the house on the end, steaming as the water fell away. Louisa coughed twice, moving forward to kick the door open. The steam was unbearably hot. With a curl of her fingers, it began to whistle out the broken windows, letting cooler air seep in.
"Hello?" She shouted. "You hear me?"
Downstairs was clear. The stairs had taken significant damage. She managed to hop up them before they gave way entirely. "If ya can hear me, answer me!" Upstairs had blackened under an onslaught of smoke. The fire had been eating at the walls and the landing, charring on the doors that were now sodden and dripping.
She checked every room. It was the second to last one that gave her an answer. "Oh gods."
He lay on the floor, skin aglow with burns. Water gloved her hand and she hurried to his side, slathering the liquid over him with a spread of her hands. He twitched, eyes fluttering. A rasp told her he was still breathing, but only just. "You ain't dyin' on me, dude, no way." She willed him to heal, sparks of green dancing in the water. "Ya hear me? What's your name?" She could movement below his eyelids, another rasp.
"G- Greg." He croaked.
"Ya gonna be OK, Greg." The burns were going down, morphing into twisted scars. She did her best to heal those too, but his coughing distracted her. Hacking coughs that violently shook his whole body. Black gunk splattered onto the carpet. "Aww, Greg, that's rank."
"S-sorry." He smiled weakly. His back had healed enough to roll him over. His clothes were melted to his skin. That was the trickiest bit, getting them away without causing more damage. Louisa cursed under her breath. "It's… alright." Greg said, touching her arm.
"Ain't alright. Hold still."
"Not gonna… make it…"
"Yes, you are. Now shut up 'n' let me concentrate."
She could heal his skin. She could only try to heal his lungs. It brought back a rushing in her ears, something she had not heard for a few blissful hours. She closed her eyes to focus, pushing her energy into him. She had to heal him. She had to save him. She couldn't let Greg die. She wouldn't let Greg die.
"Lou?" A hand touched her shoulder. She stirred, squinting up. Leona.
"Medic." She realised. Leona smiled, weary and red-eyed. She knelt beside Greg, resting his head in her lap and helping him sip from a canteen of nectar. Greg was struggling to keep his eyes open, still rasping.
Another medic floated in the corner of her vision. Louisa couldn't quite recall his name right now, but he relieved her. She had done all she could for Greg. They would help him from here.
Outside, she saw the civilians had cleared out. Arion materialised, Hazel's hair a wild mess sticking out from under her helmet.
"Evacuated." She informed. She peered at Louisa's face carefully. "Are you OK?"
"That man in there." Louisa nodded back at the house. "Greg. Is he… can you feel that?" Hazel looked up. She was not as attuned to death as her brother was.
"I think… I think he's in the best hands now." She said. An answer that wasn't really an answer. Louisa only nodded. She swayed, looking up and down the street. There were no more fires here. They had to move on.
Startled yells and bellowed orders. Louisa ran first, reaching the end of the street. The Fourth had formed up in the square, their centurions shouting, "SHIELDS UP!"
Ghouls crawled from sewers, intermingled with zombies. Louisa drew her sword. Arion appeared at her side, a spatha gleaming in her peripheral. "READY PILA!"
"No, I don't yield." Frank straightened, though the effort made him wince. "I have an alternative solution. Spolia opima."
Nervous murmurs ripped through the emperors' columns. Some of the Germani raised their eyebrows. A few of Frank's legionnaires looked like they wanted to say something- protest, question his sanity- but they stayed silent.
Commodus laughed. He pulled off his helmet, revealing his shaggy curls and beard and his cruel handsome face. His gaze was still milky and unfocused, the skin around his eyes still pitted as if he had been splashed with acid.
"Single combat?" He grinned. "I love this idea!"
"I'll take you both." Frank offered. "You and Caligula against me. You win and make it through the tunnel, the camp is yours."
"Glorious!" Commodus rubbed his hands together.
"Wait." Caligula snapped. He removed his helmet. He did not look happy, mind racing as he thought over all the angles. "This is too good to be true. What are you playing at, Zhang?"
"Either I kill you or I die." Frank replied simply. "That's all. Get through me and you can march right into camp. I'll order my remaining troops to stand down. You can have your triumphal parade through New Rome like you've always wanted." Frank turned to one of his comrades. "You hear that, Colum? Those are my orders. If I die, you will make sure they're honoured." Colum opened his mouth, but didn't seem to trust himself to speak. Instead, he just nodded dourly.
"And what of your little friend?" Caligula pressed. "Where is she?"
"Yes." Commodus cottoned on, smile vanishing as he touched his nose. "Where is that seaspawn?" Storm whickered, stomping her hoof. Commodus frowned. "I recognised that pegasus's temper, she cannot be far."
"What's to say we'll kill you and she won't be lying in wait?" Caligula asked. "I know she will not stand down so easily."
"Lou will get my orders like the rest of the legion." Frank said firmly. Whether or not she follows them would be another matter, Apollo thought.
"Spolia opima." Caligula mused, still watching Frank carefully. "It's so primitive. It hasn't been done since-" He stopped himself, perhaps remembering the 'primitive' Germani behind him; Germani who viewed single combat as the most honourable way for a leader to win a battle. In earlier times, Romans had felt the same way. For centuries, Roman generals sought out enemy leaders on the battlefield for single combat, so they could claim spolia opima. It was the ultimate display of courage for any true Roman.
Frank's ploy was clever. The emperors couldn't refuse his challenge without losing face in front of their troops. On the other hand, Frank was badly wounded. He couldn't possibly win without help.
"Two against two!" Apollo yelped, surprising even himself. He dismounted, Storm staring at him in bewilderment. He ignored the mare, tapping himself on the chest. "I'll fight!" That got another round of laughter from the enemy troops.
"Even better!" Commodus chortled. Frank looked horror-stricken, which was not the sort of thank-you Apollo had been hoping for.
"Apollo, no." He demanded quickly. "I can handle this, clear off."
A few months ago, Apollo would have been more than happy to let Frank take this hopeless fight on his own. Not now, not after everything and everyone they had lost. He looked at the poor, maimed pegasi, whom Storm was talking to again, and decided he could not live in a world where cruelty like that went unchallenged.
"Sorry, Frank." He defied. "You won't face this alone." He looked at Caligula. "Well, fucking Booties? Your colleague has already agreed. Are you in or do we terrify you too much?" Caligula fumed.
"We have lived for thousands of years." He growled. "We are gods."
"And I'm the son of Mars." Frank countered. "Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. I'm not afraid to die. Are you?"