Before I start, I'd like to give 7th Librarian credit for the part of this chapter he scripted; the section with Fanciullo's mob is mostly his. Kudos.
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One thing I often find ironic about a world like yours, where a masquerade is necessary to prevent racial conflicts, is that opinion of some are split depending on much others know about them. To most human residents of your world who even know of Jalal's existence, he's an eccentric millionaire at best. Shadows and Awares, however, believe him to have more influence than most heads of state, which isn't entirely wrong.
On a lesser scale, some Shadowchasers are the same. Karl Hudson is one of them. If you Googled his name you'd find credit given to him as the designer of a several novelties sold through the Noble Collection, with the holographic chess set the first hit. Few know that the gratuity he gets from these devices is used to finance things that aren't so trivial, including SAL's powerful upgrade and the D-Wheel that has been mentioned.
And some even astounded me. It seems the human ingenuity has no known limit, as of yet. Ironic that he would build something that allowed exploration of the place where such ideas begin.
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Chapter Forty
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Eye of the Tiger
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"Karl, honestly, how much access did they give you to their science labs?"
Francis was looking in puzzlement and confusion at the device Karl had set up in the large room that somehow combined a computer lab with an auto repair shop. It looked like a round metal disk slightly elevated off the floor with a control panel at one end and four odd conical objects spaced around it, which Francis compared to large lava lamps without the "lava".
"It helps being a paid intern who gets bored easily," said Karl. He was typing on a console and didn't turn around to answer. "Hopefully this will get us there fast with no major accidents."
"So this contraption going to open some portal?" asked Francis.
"Not quite," said Karl. "The Astral Plane is different than most dimensions, which is the reason I need you, specifically."
"I'm not much of a 'wizards and weird worlds' kind of guy, Karl," he said. "Planar travel isn't my thing."
Now Karl turned around. "Well, the Astral is weirder than most. Going from point A to point B is a difficult and unique process, because unlike most dimensions, it isn't infinite in size. It's infinitesimal."
Francis looked at him oddly for a minute, then said, "Uh, I was never too good at physics either."
"Let me simplify it," said Karl. "It has no area. It seems like a void to those traveling through it, but it's composed of pure mental energy, the stuff of thought. The concepts of Time and Space do not exist in the Astral, even though both catch up to you once you leave."
"Is that why they built a prison there?" asked Francis. He was starting to catch on now. That was likely why they chose such a place to hold such dangerous criminals.
"Exactly!" replied Karl. "Even if a prisoner escaped, he wouldn't get far. You could live there for say, five-hundred years, and without Time and Space affecting you, everyone is effectively immortal and ageless. It's even possible to survive without food, water, or even rest, so long as you stay there. If you did so for a long time and then left, you'd physically age the amount of time you spent there, and even if you're capable of living that long, the detrimental effects of starvation and extreme exhaustion would kick in."
"Eww," said Karl.
"Yes, it wouldn't be pretty," said Karl with a nod of affirmation. "Now, you have to travel though it to get to most other realities and dimensions, but standard methods of planar travel propel you through it almost instantly. When you have to actually go to a place within the Astral, that's a little trickier You following so far?"
Francis nodded, although he was still figuring it out, and Karl went on. "You just have to think about your goal and your destination, and the more brain power you have, the faster you get there. Our goal is Eden, and you were around her the longest, so –"
"Wait, wait," said Francis. "Brain power? You mean smarts? I don't think I'm the brightest one here."
"Just the opposite," snarked SAL.
"SAL, quiet!" snapped Karl. He stood up and looked at the device. "This contraption, as you call it, is designed to reproduce an Astral Shift, a spell that permits an individual or a small group to travel the Astral. Now, normally, when cast by a wizard, he's the focus, and the one navigating. In this case, the device itself will be the caster, and SAL will be directing it via special remote access."
"As in, I drive the car, you navigate the passenger seat," added SAL. "It's as simple as that."
"Exactly, it will be a hop, skip, and a jump away. Returning will be even easier; a lost child could maneuver the Astral if his own home were his destination, his desire for it would guide him."
"Just make sure you look before you jump this time," said Jalal's voice.
"Ah, heh," said Karl. The two of them turned to address the illusory form as it appeared. "We'll be more careful this time chief."
"Then be extra careful," added the leader of the Chasers. "Francis, I had serious misgivings about those tattoos the first time. One of the reasons I let you keep them is because Dugan convinced me you could handle them."
"Well, it's not like they're easy to get rid of," said Francis.
"That's the other reason," added Jalal. "And Karl, I also have serious misgivings about technology that duplicates such powerful magic. Dealing with a rogue platonic is bad enough without drawing the ire of a sanctioned one."
The illusion faded away, and Francis slumped in his chair. "Breaking the laws of time and space is never this hard in Star Trek."
Karl started to type again as his talked, this time on the main console. "And it was also pretty easy for them to break the laws of biology, astronomy, chemistry – well, science in general. We'll be all set in about thirty minutes," he said to Francis. "Start focusing on Eden and hope she's still there. We'll use these, just in case."
He held something as he reached backwards, implying for his teammate to take it – a glass bead – or something with a clasp like the type that would pin a badge to a uniform. Francis took it and looked at it curiously.
"For an emergency," continued Karl. "When an actual Astral Shift is used, the recipients are 'tethered' to their point of origin by a Silver Cord that can 'reel' them back if there's danger. This is a similar tether to the larger device. You tap it exactly three times in quick succession, and you'll be draws back here."
"Three times?" asked Francis, he started to undo the pin.
"You wouldn't want it to activate when you sat on it," said SAL. "Those are one-use items and making them is hard, so don't use it unless you have to."
Francis nodded, and then clipped it to his lapel.
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In the dark control room where Antisthenes stood, its cold eyes never blinking or turning from the monitors. A program was running.
A face appeared on the screen, a D-Wheel license registered to a Greg Somier by the city of Montreal. The program first scanned through the records in hospitals, local law enforcement and government agencies, and schools, briefly recording and comparing easily accessible information. Then it scanned several less accessible ones, then any its considerable hacking skills could uncover.
A quick loading bar appeared, and the number 67% appeared next to the picture, which then moved to a corner of the screen next to the pictures of other Shadowchasers, each of which had similar numbers. Among them was Dante's with a 52%, Nichole with 61%, Karen with 89%, and Gomi with 59%.
"Enter," it said, in response to the slight flash on the console.
As the door lifted, B.B. Hood nervously walked in, shaking a little. "Uh, sir," she said. "I, uhm, uh."
"Go on," said the platonic. A number lit up on the wall to the side, showing the numbers 20:15:23, Bonnie's number on the Meleager Timepiece, counting down her life second by second.
Hood gulped. "She's at the Last Stop," she said quickly. Then she threw a deck of cards on the floor in front of her, Eden's deck of Tortured cards.
"I was wondering if," she squeaked.
Antisthenes pointed to the numbers, and they stopped, the numbers turned to six zeroes before fading away. Bonnie felt her chest as her heart skipped twice, and then sighed heavily. It was as if a vice holding it had been removed, allowing it to beat on its own again.
"You did commendable," said the platonic, "for now. Leave."
Bonnie bowed her head, then backed away, thought the door. Guess he wasn't in the mood for a conversation, she thought.
Antisthenes continued to watch as a sixth percentage number was calculated, then there was another flash.
"I'm here," said Damned Magician Girl's voice over the computer.
"Six potential subjects have been compiled," said the being. "What you do with them now is at your discretion. Assuming the need arises.
"I suggest you prepare, in case it does."
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"We'll be ready to go in a few minutes," said Karl, continuing to type. "If you have to make a pit stop, now would be the time."
"I'm good," said Francis. "So what do I do exactly?"
Karl hit the Enter key to activate the secondary backup before answering, then hit Run. "Like I said, just keep focused on Eden, and SAL will do the rest. In theory, it should be as simple as following her voice."
"Baring any unforeseen interference," added SAL, "we'll be there in forty-five minutes to an hour."
"And the chances of an 'unforeseen' interference'?" asked Francis.
With one final code completed, the device shimmered, and the spires started to hum and pulse. Karl whirled his swivel chair around.
"Truthfully, we've picked a time when the Astral should be relatively quiet," replied SAL. "The Modron March isn't scheduled to start for another two years, the Astral Dreadnaught is in it's bi-annual hibernation period, and it's now the off-season for storms. I would say the chances of a problem are less than average."
"Which means, given our luck, the chance we run into some demon who wants to eat out intestines is slightly lower thana guaranteed certainty this time?"
"Precisely," answered SAL.
"Just think happy thoughts," said Karl, "and hope Eden is thinking them right now. Astral transference in five, four, three, two…"
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"…one…"
Now, it's very hard to describe a trip through an infinitesimal realm, at least with the written word. Mortals can only perceive things that have the dimensions of length, width, and breadth; the Astral has those, plus a couple of others. Still, an analogy might help.
Suppose you were out all day, doing hard manual labor. Maybe mowing the lawn, cutting firewood, or moving the rocks on a stony field and building them into a wall. Now take it further, make it the middle of summer, and switch the comfortable clothing you likely have for a light sweatshirt and jeans.
When finished, you go back into your house, exhausted, perspiring, and likely reeking of stale sweat, dirt, grime, and other residue. So you cast off the sweat-soaked work clothes, turn the AC on, and get in the shower.
If you've ever done such, you know the typical feeling. Those dirty clothes were restraining you like a straightjacket, and removing them was relief and freedom, the water soothing and refreshing, taking away the tightness you had endured.
Now, consider it further. True physical freedom, the spirit and soul flying from the body, and feeling more relaxed than you thought possible. The body itself is regarded as a burden, and for a while, you're truly unbound.
That is the best way to describe how an Astral traveler feels.
Of course, unless the Astral traveler is one of the bravest – or foolhardiest – mortals, self-preservation finds him within a few minutes, along with the nagging dread of becoming lost in this bliss forever, along with knowing enough to concentrate on whatever task you came for.
And as Karl said, focusing on Eden was like following a voice, a voice of no words in the distance meandering through the Astral until caught by the mind's eye.
They honed in on it quickly.
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Francis felt his torso on the chest and abdomen. He was whole again, but even so, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed now that he was. He already pined for the sensation again, but there would be time for it later.
"Okay, we're in!" he exclaimed, taking care not to yell. Then he almost laughed. "Well, gee, terrific, we just broke into a prison here."
It sure looked like one. They had "landed" in what looked like a courtyard with a dirt floor and two intersecting, pathed paths leading to metal doors on each, surrounded by walls made of some odd type of concrete, with unfriendly-looking towers in each corner. They glowed with a soft, steady light.
Karl stepped backwards as he looked around. Then looked at the path, which seemed to divide the courtyard into quarters. Then he noticed four slab-grey squares in each corner.
He walked over to one, and saw a design that looked like a flame etched in it. Then he tested it with his foot.
"The one here has a couple of wavy lines on it," said Francis. "Elemental symbols, right?"
"Mmm, but I recognize this material," answered Karl. "It's like magical insulation. More than likely, the path was the only safe place to stand if some 'crowd control' device had to be used here to 'discourage' a fight. Either to stun aggressive inmates or worse."
In response to that, Francis wasted no time stepping on the one he was looking at.
"Good call," replied Karl. "And it seems I was right," said Karl. "Those blue streaks mean the power has been restarted. SAL, you think you can access a system like this?"
"I don't suppose her translator can do Animonian to English?" asked Francis.
"Well, my translator can't do so at the moment," she responded. There were a few beeps as she peered into the odd magitek system. "But I'm a fast learner. Well, my experience with Animonian technology and language isn't exactly the best, but I think I can use it to provide at least a rough layout."
There were a few lower beeps, and a map of the complex slowly started to sketch out, a blueprint that resembled a cross with a long central crossbar and two smaller crossbars above and below it. A compass showing an arbitrary north was included.
"Seems the brunt of the security is focused on this area, and someone is there." A part of it enlarged, showing a cellblock on the upper left part of the north T-bar and an intensity measuring bar that was almost in the red, a small blue star marking what was presumably Eden. Their own location, near the center of the complex, was marked with an orange circle. "I'll start working on the door up ahead, you two watch our backs."
"Quite a lot of security for one prisoner," said Francis.
"Any guards?" asked Karl. He nervously looked around the empty exercise lot, then up at the sky, or what passed for it.
"Truthfully, I'm only picking up two other lifeforms other than you two," she said. "Here we go."
The steel door in front of them started to swing open slowly. They cautiously moved towards it, and SAL continued. A white square appeared on the right part of the lower T-bar.
"One is obviously Eden, and the other," she stopped. "I… I'm afraid I have no idea what this creature is, this combination of heart rate, body temperature, and other vital signs, along with spiritual and magical auras – I have no matching records in my files."
"Swell," replied Karl, "right after I upgraded them."
"It's clearly intelligent," said SAL, "due to the brain activity I'm reading, but even that's erratic."
"Well, it's at the south end, we want to go to the north end," said Francis. "Maybe we'll be lucky."
Then the door slammed shut behind them, a set of portcullis slammed down from above, and a second set crossed them horizontally.
Not that they didn't expect that, because as Francis knew, lucky breaks were few and far between.
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"Place seems pretty empty," said Francis. "Still, seems they did have to eat here."
The auditorium-sized room may have once been a cafeteria, given the furniture that was left. Still, most of it had been removed. Although, those odd slates with elemental symbols were placed randomly on every surface.
"It helps," said Karl, "seeing as you never know when you have to – over there."
He shined his flashlight on a door to the side with some odd writing on it. SAL started humming again.
"Try that door. I've almost got this language figured out. I think it's the Officers' Mess."
"So let them clean it up," replied Francis.
"Very funny," said Karl. He tried the door, and finding it unlocked, opened it.
Again, the room inside was unfurnished, but the slight odor of stale coffee and old milk suggested it was, indeed, used as a mess hall for the staff. More of the odd stone slates were on the floor. A lit, flickering console was built into the wall, likely what SAL had pointed to.
"Paydirt," said Karl. He tapped his glove a few times, and the screen lit as SAL started to attempt a connection. A message was already written on the screen in that same language.
"Hmm," said Karl. "I think someone tried to use this recently. I'm guessing accessing this computer took them a long time, and with no ports they could use to download information, they just left it on."
"I think I can translate," said SAL. "This looks like a docket of instructions."
As she read, she projected the translated words on her holographic screen:
Attention Personnel: The following policies are in effect until further notice.
Due to the recent sabotage, the environmental controls in Section R2 are offline; this Section is limited to golems until further notice.
Before entering the Chamber, please request a pair of safety goggles from a golem. This institute is not responsible for accidents caused due to carelessness.
Anyone feeding or teasing the bhaergala guard hounds will now be reprimanded with 20 demerits. Accidents and fatalities due to them confusing their prey has increased significantly due to lack of enforcement of this rule.
Personnel with necromantic homunculi and/or grafts are recommended to avoid the lower part of Section C.
"What kind of prisoners do they hold here?" gasped Francis.
"Like I said before, only the worst," said Karl. He continued reading:
Do not enter the cellblock in Section D3 without level 4 protective Abjuration or higher. Use disenchanting facility after leaving this area. If you feel dizzy, drowsy, or have headache or blurred vision for more than an hour afterwards, report to the infirmary for extended examination and curse removal.
He stopped for a minute to take all this rather morbid information in. Then he read the last line:
Caution! The elemental surge controls set to Green have been enhanced due to the current commission. DO NOT USE this surge if Class-S prisoners are in the vicinity!
He stopped, then turned right and left, using the flashlight. "Class S," he pondered. "That's usually a system's temporary designation for anything even greater than the usual maximum of whatever it measures."
"Over there," said SAL.
He shined the light further upwards, and saw a device that looked like a circuit box, with runes on it in the same language. There were four gems on it – blue, red, green, and brown – and five buttons the size of keyboard buttons underneath.
"Likely a security device," said SAL.
"For whatever the 'surge' is," added Francis.
Karl moved closer slowly, Francis behind him ready to yank them both out of the way if a hidden trap went off. SAL hummed again.
"I think the smaller buttons are for a code," she said. "I'll work on cracking it."
"Hmm, green. The color usually associated with Wind." He thought for a minute, looking around again, then shined his light on one of those slates on the floor.
"That means using it will zap everyone on the Wind tiles?" asked Francis.
"Probably anyone who isn't on the Wind tiles," said Karl.
"Not to rush you, folks," said SAL, "but I think I pinpointed Eden. Problem is, remember that second lifeform I mentioned? It's moving,"
Her map appeared again, showing their destination and the moving figure, the white square, moving quickly past the area they had entered.
"Oh, brother," said Francis.
The door ahead of them opened, and they ran though it, into a wider hall. SAL kept the map on behind them as they ran.
"Moving pretty fast!" he shouted.
"Faster than a human could," added SAL, "but don't worry, we're almost there."
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"Well, here I am," muttered Oswald.
He never liked coming here, despite how important it was to someone like him, but it was necessary. The strange standing stones that Francis had used two weeks earlier to enter the Feywild were in front of him, and he felt the fey magic plainly. It was a pleasurable feeling that could momentarily distract from overwhelming feelings of doom and dread. Sort of like the warmth a hunter would feel from a crackling fire inside a cabin while isolated and alone with a blizzard outside.
"Okay, I brought what you wanted!" he shouted. He hurled the briefcase he had brought into the center of the stones. "Now let's have it."
There was no answer for about a minute. He sighed impatiently. "They always have to count it," he grumbled.
"You wouldn't blame me if you were the one delivering something like this," said a gravelly voice. "This guy ain't as nice as old Buckbeak was."
Then a short, ugly fellow who Francis might have remembered came out of the shadows, Mr. Pix, the leader of the gang of crooks who had been so determined to get that cake.
Of course, the Shadowkind beast he was bringing by a leash kind of stood out more than he did. It was a monster two heads taller than even Oswald, its head and front-half like that of an eagle (blindfolded, so as not to spook it) and the rest of it a horse even larger than the Budweiser Clydesdales. Clearly, he was into bigger things now than mere pastry.
"Pretty good," said Oswald. "You fed it, right?"
"Course I did," replied Pix. "Hippogriffs sometimes mistake guys like me for hamburger when they're hungry." He handed Oswald the leash. "Humans too. No idea why you wanted this guy, don't care, he's yours now, and just so you know, I have a strict caveat emptor with my merchandise."
"I can handle him," said Oswald. He stroked the fey beasts side, and some soothing magic started to calm it further.
"Yeah, famous last words," muttered Pix. He turned back towards the woods shaking his head.
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The cell blocks they rushed through were frightening, and the empty nature of it only made it more so, due to the echoing of their footsteps.
It was double layered, with catwalks along the top and crossing over above them, and the empty cells, well, they would have been less frightening had SAL not been able to translate the signs. Signs saying "Danger" and "Hazardous" next to cells became more and more common, and signs that said "Cursed", "Poisonous," "Radioactive", and even "Biohazardous" started appearing. In one case there was one that said "Necro-Hazardous" (Francis started to ask, only for Karl to say, "Shh! I'll tell you later.") The cells themselves often had shackles bolted to the walls, some of them in ways a human could likely not be fit to due to shape.
Worse, those slates on the floor had become more numerous, and switches like the one in the mess hall were spaced about 30 feet apart on every wall.
Finally, they came to a huge, vault-like door made of a metal the color of bronze; the sigils, once translated, said "Max Security – Authorized Personnel and Class S Golems Only".
"This must be where they kept the worst of the worst," said SAL. "The door looks like the only entrance and exit." The digital combination on the lock started to flash numbers rapidly as she started to decode it. "I think the abjuration magic that protected it used to be second to none, but most spells protecting it have expired."
"Spells like that can be expensive to maintain," said Karl. "So they stopped renewing them when they closed this place. So that's good and bad." Noticing Francis' puzzled look, he explained. "Good because there's no prisoner other than Eden." SAL cracked and inputted the code, and the door started to swing open. "Bad because, well, Eden herself may be just as dangerous as whatever this part is meant to hold."
They walked at a brisker pace down corridors under catwalks, keeping an eye as they walked on those odd slates on the floor. Eventually, they spotted a lit area up ahead.
As they went through the door, they rubbed their eyes, which had adjusted to dim light before now. This was fortunate, as their goal was in sight.
"Eden!" called Francis.
There was a cell at the very end of the hallway where the one prisoner of the complex languished. She had been restrained much the same way Sofia had, with the same shackles linked to a belt chain and a muzzle. The gem amulet was there too, strapped tightly around her neck with a chain collar, but in this case it was green.
The room wasn't completely empty otherwise, a desk in a corner with a laptop on it. Still, they didn't concern themselves yet. She noticed them quickly, and stood up, trying to say something as they approached.
"Calm down, we're here," said Francis.
She calmed a little, still trying to say something as Karl examined the bars on the cell, which seemed to lack an important thing, a door.
"How on Earth does this open?" he mused.
"I don't think this one does open," answered SAL. "This may be the same as that place Jalie had."
"You mean she was teleported into it?" asked Francis.
Eden started to mumble very loudly, this time while nodding. Then she gestured with her head to the side, towards the desk set up next to a monitor. A laptop was on the desk itself.
It was then that they noticed that the laptop and the desk were clearly human-made. The MicroSoft insignia was even on the keyboard. And it was in sleep mode. Its wiring had somehow been soldered into the veins on the wall, a type of makeshift port.
"It can't be that easy," said Francis.
"Don't jinx it," said Karl. "If this has a way to activate whatever put her there, this is going to be easy." He hit the space bar, and the Sleep mode turned off, causing the lager panel to flick on.
As the screen came up, a square plane flew into the center, turning into a Duel Mat. Instructions, in English, appeared above it, then cards appeared, placed in the various zones.
"Okay, check that, small problem."
"It's a Duel Puzzle," said SAL, "a code that won't be so easy to crack."
The first card that appeared was Naturia Cherries, placed on the opponent's side in Attack Mode. (200 ATK) Then Fabled Leviathan appeared in Attack Mode on the player's side. (2,800 ATK) Then, three cards – Dark Hole, Fabled Lurrie, and Beiige, Scout of Dark World – appeared, reducing in size and forming a hand of three cards. Then, three more – Dark World Lightning, Big Bang Shot, and Solidarity – appeared, then flipped over as they shank, setting themselves facedown on the players' field.
"Hmm," said Karl, but it seemed there was more. Three more Fabled monsters, Krus, Raven, and Grimro, appeared and were piled on the Graveyard; this was followed by a second Krus, a second Grimro, and Fabled Miztoji appearing, flipping over, and stacking on the player's Deck Zone, with two other Naturia Cherries placed on the opponent's. Finally, Stygian Sergeants and Fabled Valkyrus were placed in the zone indicating the player's Extra Deck.
The opponent's Life Points were set at 13,600, and the player's to 2,000.
"WIN THIS TURN!" shouted a caption, in big letters.
And then, to their shock and regret, a timer started, giving only five minutes.
"I'm afraid looking up the solution on the net is out of the question," said SAL.
Karl studied the problem with his finger hovering over the keyboard. "Okay, think, Karl, think," he said to himself.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm-mmh!" said Eden through the muzzle.
"Calm down, Eden," said Francis.
"Mmm, mmm, mmm-mmh!" she repeated, slamming against the bars with her shoulder.
"Wait," said SAL. "I think she just heard something she doesn't like, and ten dollars says we won't either."
Then they realized what she meant. They turned around, then leapt to each side as the guard – the one who had been tracking them – crashed down through the ceiling.
As she stood up to a full height of almost seven feet, both of the Chasers backed away. "Okay, we're screwed," said Francis.
Likely the second thing you would notice about this woman was her four arms, muscular, and with three fingers per hand. (Two regular ones and a thumb.) She had iron wristbands on all four, and matching anklets.
Her face had many diabolical features, including fiendish-looking eyes, and six small ridge-like horns on her forehead, two rows of three, in front of hair that combined both a Mohawk and a mullet with a very long ponytail.
Of course, her face, hair, and arms would all likely be noticed after her clothing, or rather, the lack of it. It was little more than a slingshot bikini that barely covered the parts of her that needed to be concealed.
She looked at them with a long, tired drawl. "Well, glad someone finally came," she said. "Simply watching this little one is about as interesting as watching paint dry." She thrust her four arms out in front, cracking all four knuckles at once.
"Who are," said Francis.
Before he could finish, she leapt like a tigress, tackling Karl and in the same movement, lifting him into the air with her lower hands.
I know who she looks like, he thought, but that's impossible!
Of course, he couldn't question this creature's existence right now, seeing as she started to punch him in the chops with her upper hands. Francis, of course, reacted quickly, slamming into her with his shoulder.
He felt like he had just slammed into a stone wall. She stopped hitting Karl, and casually looked back at him over her shoulder. A second later, what felt like a baseball bat hitting him in the chest knocked him over and across the room. He didn't notice for a few seconds that she had actually thrown Karl into him.
"Get up!" he shouted, pulling his teammate to his feet. The strange warrior didn't lunge at them right away. She looked them over with her lower arms on her hips and crossing the upper two.
"I didn't know Earthrealm had a cadet program," she said dryly.
"We take her together this time," said Karl.
Francis nodded in response, and each went for their weapon. As the swords were drawn, the woman resumed her fighting stance.
Now, the two of them had seen many fighting styles in their day, and fully expected her to attempt a dodge or parry somehow. It came as complete surprise when she reacted to their downward strokes by catching the blades of the swords with her upper hands.
She smirked at them, right before they each felt a strong blow to the stomach, delivered by her lower fists.
Again, she looked over them. She crossed her upper arms with the lower ones on her hips. "Listen you two, I'm not the type who gets my jollies bullying a couple of greenhorns."
You have a funny way of showing that lady, thought Francis.
"SAL, five-one-seven," whispered Karl.
"Roger," she said back.
"So tell you what," she continued.She formed her fighting stance again, and to Francis, suddenly looked even taller. "Unless you really want to do it the hard way, I can make it quick."
Karl's reply was to leap towards her, open palm first. Her first impression was that he was out of his mind, until he slammed the palm – covered by the glove that served as SAL's physical form – against her torso, and a surge of electricity jolted her.
"GAH!" she shouted, taking one step backwards. "You little –"
She didn't fall down, but she did lose balance, and Francis followed Karl's lead with two slugs to the jaw. She fell on her back with a loud thud.
"We'll be back, Eden, sit tight!" shouted Karl.
"Like hell you will," growled their foe. However, the two Shadowchasers leapt over her and ran through the entrance they came, back into the dark cellblock.
"Up here!" guided Karl. They raced up the stairs to one of the catwalks, and took some deep breaths. SAL started to hum again as she accessed the compound's system again.
"I've fought gangs that didn't hit as hard as this dame," said Francis. He looked down, and saw her come into the room, looking back and forth before spotting them. SAL found the right code, and the stairway to the catwalk lifted and retracted.
"Oh, great," continued Francis, "now she has us treed."
"I'm working on it!" insisted SAL. "At least she can't get up here."
"Can she?" said Karl. "I wonder…"
He walked to the ends of the catwalk and looked down at her, holding onto the rail. "Hey, Sheeva, up here! Nah, nah, nah! Can't catch us!" And finished by blowing a raspberry.
Francis' first thought was that Karl had lost his marbles, a presumption that was enforced when a crackling, sizzling ball of fire shot from their assailant's hands. As Karl hit ground and covered his head, Francis could feel the heat as the catwalk shook.
"Why the hell did you do that?" gasped Francis.
"Just needed to check and see if she still had the fireballs," replied Karl. "Seems I was right about who she is too."
"You don't think I'm going to climb all the way up there, do you?" she called to them, and seized the support bars of the catwalk, pulling it and making it creak and shake.
"Now what?" shouted Francis.
"Got it!" said SAL. With another code input, a small, square-sized entrance in the wall opened, revealing some sort of duct or maintenance hatch. "This way!"
They scampered in, Karl secretly regretting he had made her clever enough to spot such an exit; he really didn't feel like crawling through a dark, dirty pipe with God knows what in it. Still, he didn't like the alternative right now. Behind them, the catwalk was yanked from its moorings and crashed around the warrior woman, who covered herself with all four arms as part of the ceiling collapsed with it.
"Timber," she muttered.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Back at Copek, Addams had convinced his cleaning service to come five days early for only time and a half.
As the show room was being scrubbed of the residue from spilled soda, coffee, and several hastily-bought foodstuffs, Emily was in her private room, several chemicals mixing under burners, giving off acrid smells and strangely colored steam. She had ditched the leather gear and was back to her more "liberated" outfits, her current one being a nurse's outfit with a plunging neckline and a high skirt.
"I hope this is the stuff you need," said Ferdinand as he entered, holding his nose. "The pharmacist gave me a very funny look when I asked for it."
She turned around and her face lit up. "Perfect!" she beamed, as she grabbed it. "Uh, I'd put that on if I were you."
Ferdinand quickly grabbed the particle mask from a hook and fastened it as she poured the stuff from the bottle into one of the tubes. "So, uh, is this the 'poisonous-person-potion'?" he asked.
"Actually, this is a little improvement on it," she said. She started to stir the other liquid. "Or rather, it's supposed to be. Once it's done, it should be more potent, longer lasting, and have a pleasant lemony flavor."
The irony of the nurse outfit was not lost on him.
Outside in the storeroom, Oswald was reading while reclining on a chair that was propped against a door, not coincidentally a door leading to the unused boiler room. Addams had once used it to store his stash of Ysgardian Honey Mead until he found out everyone knew and could jimmy the lock open. As of now, he was using it to store the hippogriff, which was taking a nap after being fed double the usual amount such a beast ate.
"Interesting book," said Dunstan.
Oswald lowered it. "Contrary to what you may think, I read more than magazines. Where's the chief, by the way?"
"He had to rush," replied Dunstan, "something screwy is going on the Last Stop, and speaking of which, I need you to watch that thing in his office for a while."
It took all the strength Oswald had not to show how overjoyed he was. He thought he would have to sneak into the office. "Sure, sure, no problem," he simply said.
He stood up as the older man turned around, looked at the door, then at the book. Then he slammed the book shut.
Time to break on through to the other side, he thought. He rolled up his sleeves.
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"Who is that crazy woman?" asked Francis. "Ow…" For the fifth time, his knee scraped over a bolt as they crawled through the duct.
"That's something I'd like to know," added SAL. "Karl, if you met this species before, it's news to me, and I'm programmed to identify all known Shadowkind in the world."
"Well, she's, uhm," said Karl. He stopped and wiped his brow. He looked a little nervous now, maybe a little embarrassed. He would later remark that it was because he thought maybe he was about to sound like he had gone off the deep end.
Finally, he blurted it out: "Her name is Sheeva. General of the Shokan armies of the Outworld and royal bodyguard to Queen Sindel."
"Say what?" asked Francis.
Karl was sure he had sounded crazy now. "A villain from the well-known and incredibly violent fighting game Mortal Kombat. Well, some of them. See it's – "
"Again, say… what?" asked Francis." We're fighting some video game character?"
"Don't look at me," said SAL. "I have to deal with him all the time."
"Look, I know it sounds crazy," said Karl, "but her appearance, what she said about 'Earthrealm', her powers, it all fits. I don't know who else it could be!"
"Well, the good news is, she's not following us, at the moment," said SAL. "I think this area up ahead is gen-pop, but I have no idea where we are otherwise. I need to get to a better console fast."
The hatch in front of them opened, and they lowered themselves into a larger cellblock. They dropped in, and warily looked around. This one was much bigger than the others, and unlike the others, had not been cleared out. There were a few cylindrical containers and crates stacked in one corner, next to a vehicle that looked like a forklift with tank treads and a streamlined frame that looked like it was made of bronze. More of those slate panels were on the floor, and there were several of those switches, one on each wall. Fortunately, there was indeed another console near the lift, and they made a beeline for it.
"Okay, assuming this chick is from a video game," started Francis, "how did they deal with her in the game?"
The monitor flicked on, and SAL started her attempt to hack it. "Games, plural," answered Karl. "She was in several. And Sheeva is usually the 'lightning bruiser' of the bad guys, meaning she's tough and fast but lacks –"
"Karl…" answered Francis, in a tone indicating that wasn't what he meant.
"If you mean elemental vulnerability, fighting game characters don't have that, at least not in-game. In fact, that game is notorious for the overt differences between game and storyline."
"Well look alive," said SAL, "because the 'lightning bruiser' is about to strike, and given how fast she's moving, you'd better think of something fast. On a related note, I think I've got enough info here to crack the codes for this wing, if that helps."
"Uhm, okay," said Karl, quickly. "Karl, I may need you to go get some Ritz crackers from my locker if you know what I mean."
Francis was about to ask something, but his memory answered it himself. He slowly nodded.
"Good," replied Karl. "Uhm, try to open that cell, I think I have an idea."
Numbers appeared and switched rapidly on the screen, and the door to a large cell behind them opened with a low rumble.
"Just be prepared to close it," he added.
"Let me guess," said a familiar voice. "This 'idea' of yours involves doing that while I'm on the inside and locking it, right?"
They turned around, and she strode in. For a long time after this, one thing stuck out in Francis' mind about her, that was how the hell she could even walk without that costume falling off, let alone fight in it. It was a "wardrobe malfunction" waiting to happen.
"Clever, just one small problem. Just how do you plan on getting me in there?"
"Don't ask me," said Francis. He and Karl lifted his hands in a stance. "He's the genius."
"Overrated," she hissed. "For the Shokan!"
She pounced…
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The door to the dreary Zone Yellow quarantine area opened, and again, Jalal stepped through, rather anxious at answering Tony's message. He turned to a hallway, where the room holding Yolanda was.
She didn't look too happy, of course, her conditions weren't nearly as cheerful as Sofia's. She was restrained again, and the metal straps holding her down now were far more secure. Dr. Kohl was already there, having set up several equipment, along with an IV system
"Going to be alright," he said to Yolanda in a calming reassuring tone.
"I take it you've figured out a solution?" said Jalal.
"Possibly," replied Tony. He sat down and started to type. "As yet, I don't know how to develop a true cure, but this is a start, and Yolanda at the moment is the one who's system seems most willing to fight the nanomachine infection. Here, look."
The monitor showed another magnified view, and it was now of a bloodstream, with several invading nanos rushing through it alongside the blood cells. And they were in trouble. A large white blood cell attacked one of them, paying no heed to the others tugging and jabbing it, until it enveloped the nano.
"I started with a drug normally used to encourage the lymphatic system to produce an overabundance of the lymphocytes the body uses to fight tumors. I was eventually able to encourage a benign mutation of such lymph cells, creating in effect, superior ones that seek out the nanomachines specifically, something the nanos actively try to prevent via assimilation. In effect, should the white blood cells be considered an army whose purpose is to defend the body, this is giving some of them advanced training."
"Royal Engineers for the blood stream, not bad," replied Jalal. "So we have a treatment now."
He continued to watch the screen, watching another white cell start to chase them. He felt the need to resist urging it by saying, "Get it, get it, get it, go!"
"There's much room for improvement, however," answered Tony. He started to type again. "With more information through observation, we may well be able to cure it or even produce a vaccine. Of course, it would be a big help if we knew more about the bastard distributing these little beasts, but I'll leave that part up to you."
Jalal nodded, and left.
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Francis had quickly discovered that the term "lightning bruiser" had been rather accurate. Two against one was usually an advantage for the two, and yet, their foes' punches with all four arms, interrupted every ten seconds or so with an even fiercer kick, were hard to keep track of, let alone avoid. He had two black eyes and a bleeding lip at the moment, and the worst part was, he could tell she was purposely pulling her punches!
Finally, he was able to match her lunge with a solid one to the jaw, and for the first time, she seemed a little hurt as she fell on her side.
But she was quickly up even as he gave a hand to Karl to help him up.
"I have to say I was wrong," said Sheeva. "This is rather enjoyable." She stretched, and breathed deeply. "Gets the heart pumping."
Then she seized Francis and lifted him; he felt rushing pressure as all four arms got a tight hold. "Let go, you crazy bitch!" he managed to grunt. "You –"
He stopped talking and started struggling harder as she started to shift her grip, as he realized why. Her intent wasn't to crush him but to break him. Even worse, she was smiling.
"Just relax," she said, gently. "This only hurts for a few seconds."
SAL hummed again, and started to rush through codes again at high speed. Sheeva relaxed her grip; she and the two humans and were surprised to see the lift-vehicle's lights turn on as the engine started.
"What, uh," said Sheeva. Francis caught on, the opening enough for him to deliver an even stronger punch followed by a kick to the lower torso. As she dropped him, he rolled away as the remote controlled vehicle slammed into Sheeva, the impact knocking her into the stack of barrels, which collapsed and fell on her.
"Think you can warn us if you do that again?" asked Karl.
"Not even a thank you?" asked Sheeva. "And I doubt I'll be doing it again."
It was obvious what she meant. The vehicle had been tipped over and totaled, clearly not designed for use as a ram.
"Oh, and I know the code for that thing, in case you need it, but the switch has to be thrown manually."
Francis looked over to the lever on the wall, the one that – supposedly – controlled the slates. He heard a groan from Sheeva, followed by an angry snarl, as she started to pull herself out from under the rubble.
"I'll distract her," said Karl.
"Distract –" he started
"GO."
As Francis ran to the opposite wall, Karl just watched as Sheeva stood up.
"Is that offer of yours still valid?" he asked, looking her in the eye.
She didn't answer, so he went on, lifting his hands. "I surrender."
"WHAT?" shouted Francis.
Sheeva looked at him, pondering while stroking her chin. "Very well," she said. "On your knees, human."
To Francis' horrendous surprise, Karl obeyed, and closed his eyes as the Shokan approached him. Damn, Karl, he thought, you'd better know what you're doing.
He glanced at the lever quickly as a code was silently entered, 004-276-525-158. He moved to it and watched Sheeva. She started to reach for Karl, towards his throat.
Come on, Karl, any day now.
Then, she hesitated. She stopped. She looked at her upper hands.
Say what? thought Francis. She looks kind of – confused.
"Well?" asked Karl. "Make it quick, you promised!"
"I…" said Sheeva. Now she really looked confused, and nervous.
Karl opened his eyes. "There a problem? Accidents will happen, you know."
Francis blinked Karl had said it, said the code. And Sheeva was standing on a Wind tile now. He started to reach for the green switch.
But then he stopped. Karl was kneeling on a Water tile.
Sheeva's look of confusion was mixed with suspicion now. Then she turned her head, very quickly, towards Francis. His hand moved six inches to the left, and pulled the red one down, and while doing so, hopped to another blue one.
An alarm rang, blue, gaseous wisps rose from the tiles underneath him and Karl, turning into a blue coating of magical mist that clung to his skin. Magical flames shot from hoses on the ceiling. The scorching flames filled the entire room, and Sheeva screamed as they burned.
Francis looked at his hands as they stopped and the blue – and rather soothing – mist slid away. It had shielded him.
"Fire quells Wind," sighed Francis. "But Water quenches Fire."
Sheeva was burned and hurt, but still standing, groaning and covering her eyes, and Francis wasn't going to let her recover. He shoulder-slammed into her torso and then punched as hard as he could to her in the jaw again and again, until finally, a blow with both fists together knocked her through the doorway of the open cell. SAL had already started to input the code again and it started to close even as she fell through, and then slammed shut before she could even lift her head.
Karl wiped his brow with a loud "Phew." He looked at Francis. "That was pretty quick thinking!"
The two started to run from the room, their backs to furious cussing and cursing in a language they – fortunately – didn't understand.
"Uh, thanks," replied Francis, but, not that I'm complaining, but why did she hesitate?"
"I have a feeling she's new at this," said Karl. "Her world has two sides, each with a different set of rules, so I just played them against each other."
"STOP," ordered Francis. Then slid to a stop. "Run that by me again."
"Fine, I'll make this quick," answered Karl. "In the storyline of her game, the Shokan are, well, 'proud warrior type' folks. You know, like Klingons. As such, I truly doubted she would actually kill a helpless enemy.
"On the other hand, that may well be because she didn't expect a surrender, because she's never seen that done in actual fights. In Mortal Kombat, fights end when one participant is dead."
"My head hurts," said Francis. "How were you sure that would work?"
They started moving briskly again. "I didn't, truthfully," he answered, "I just had to confuse her so she'd let her guard down. Like I said, I have a feeling she's a beginner at this."
Still, the alarms were still blaring as they ran, and Sheeva's angry curses echoed down that hallway.
"SAL start preparing for the return trip, the sooner we get out of here the better."
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Ten minutes later.
"Just say when, Karl."
They marched quickly down the hall, towards the high security unit where they had last seen Eden, and were relieved to find her still there where they left her. She stood up quickly, clearly in shock.
"Mmm-mmm," she started.
"Calm down, Eden, we're okay," said Francis. "A few more minutes and this will all be nothing but a bad headache."
"Um, maybe not," said Karl.
The laptop computer jacked to the magitek wiring had shut down, and the duel puzzle had vanished from the screen itself, leaving nothing but a message:
"Attention. We apologize for any inconvenience, but we ask that all personnel evacuate the facility at this time. Please do not be alarmed. Thank you."
"One guess why," said Karl.
"The alarm seems to have activated an automatic security lockdown," said SAL. "The controls for this and all other systems are offline until the all-clear is given, and I have no idea how to do that."
"Probably needs a manual switch," said Francis. Eden sat down with a sad look in her eye. "Don't worry, we won't leave!"
"I'm not sure we can stay," replied SAL. "Sheeva is still here, and she may have some way to call for help. And someone might have heard the alarm. We don't have all-too many options; we can try to override the controls or simply overload them, but I have no idea of the risks it would take or the time."
"We should have brought dynamite," started Francis. "Or a –" Then he stopped himself. "Eden, c'mere!"
"What –" said Karl. Then he smiled broadly, as he figured is out. Francis unfastened the lapel pin on his collar, then passed it to Eden through the bars.
"Honestly, Francis, you're on a roll today."
Francis tapped the pin that was now on Eden's shirt thrice, and she disappeared into a swirl of silver and black ether.
"Mission accomplished," said SAL. "We'll be back home in fifteen minutes."
The Astral shift started to activate again…
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Forty-five minutes after making the jump, Francis and Karl were in the commissary; the chicken patties had been devoured five minutes ago, and they were starting on the ravioli. Karl hadn't been kidding about hunger and fatigue catching up to them.
"Chew before swallowing you two," said Jalal, his face on the holographic screen. "The last thing I need is more injuries."
Eden was at the next table with Wells and Jennifer, where three toolboxes were next to the platters of food. Wells was working on getting the handcuffs lose with special skeleton keys, while Jenn did her best to help Eden eat while not getting in the way.
"Come on, here comes the airplane towards the hanger!" said Jenn, jovially. Unfortunately, Eden didn't have much of an appetite and had barely spoken since they had gotten the muzzle off.
"I think I see the problem," said Jalal.
Wells noticed it too, the amulet she had been made to wear. "Hmm, that's a pickle."
"It's the same type of dampening device they put on Sofia," answered Karl, "and speaking of which, the Last Stop uses similar restraints, probably why these guys are using it. Well, were using it, more likely. I don't think they will now that we know about it."
"My biggest concern is this warrior you two fought," answered Jalal. "A video game character?"
"Well, it could have been worse, chief," replied Karl.
"Worse?" exclaimed Francis. "My ribs still ache here!"
"Hey, most villains in that game were a lot worse than Sheeva and some would never have hesitated back there!" snapped Karl, pointing his finger. "Take it from a fan of the franchise, there are far more dangerous fighters, like Mileena, Quan Chi, Motaro… Well, he's not a playable character, he's just a boss…"
"Everyone focus; you're missing the point!" interrupted Jalal.
He rubbed his hands nervously for a minute or two. Francis started spreading butter on a roll slowly.
"I've seen this phenomenon before. It started back in Las Vegas some years ago. The first time someone did this it was a villain from a game called Ratchet and Clank. Then it was a demon from a game called Devil May Cry I believe."
"The fourth one," groaned Wells. "Then it was the Hopper Brothers from Kamen Rider Kabuto, and it didn't stop there." He put the keys down and started to look through the toolkit on the table.
"So why the sudden big concern?" asked Francis.
"You ever hear the expression 'truth is stranger' than fiction?" asked Jalal. "It's absurd. I've yet to find anything in reality that fiction can't top. But now it seems someone can bring written work to life. This sort of power can be practically –" He stopped. "- limitless."
"What do you –" started Karl, even though it was starting to sink it.
"He means," interrupted Wells, "what's there to stop someone from summoning creatures whose rap sheets include multiple counts of dimensional genocide? Those who consider beating up all the warriors of Valhalla in one afternoon 'a slow day'?" He found what he needed, an old pair of aviation snips.
"Whatever is doing this has the potential to cause more destruction than we could ever hope to prevent or contain," continued Jalal. "They could summon Kratos or Sephiroth."
"The Borg," added Jennifer, slowly. "Dementors, Unicron… There are so many!"
"Someone could even go all-out and decide to send a pack of… Xenomorphs to this world."
Francis coughed and choked on the roll, reaching for his beverage. Even Wells looked frightened as Jalal said that word. "Boss, please," said Karl, "as if we didn't have enough reasons to dread the night as it is. Need I remind you that they've had to nuke entire planets to get rid of those things?"
"Here we go," said Wells. With a loud SNIP, the tool severed the amulet's chain. As it dropped to the floor with a clatter, Eden put her hand over her heart as her energy started to return.
"Thank you," she said, still sounding a little sad.
"Don't worry, Eden, we've doubled the security since the last breakout," said Jalal. "We can double it again. That book you –"
"I'll tell you what's in the journal, just don't let them get it!" she implored.
"Eden, easy, easy!" said Wells. "So you were kidnapped. You have any idea how often that has happened to the folks in this room? This facility is safe."
Nobody is safe, she thought. Sheeva may be the tip of the iceberg once that thing's true potential is unleashed.
"Where is it, by the way?" asked Karl.
"I think Fanciullo is using it," answered Wells.
"Are you sure that's wise?"
"Don't worry, I doubt they'll try anything funny. These platonics aren't the only folks who can locate an object with magic."
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"I have broken my most sacred vows and disturbed the chambers of my master's rest...
"...the voice of the sphere calls to me from afar, whispering me to me the truth...of cursed gold and soiled blood and tainted hearts...
"The thieves...the thieves are the ones! They live on in the gold! Corrupting even the eyes of Horus! They spoke to the other priests, blinding their sight like the glare of Ra's sun on the desert sands, making them believe that...
"I know the truth, I have hidden my face with a mask darkness and thus, I am able to see what the glare of light hides...Egypt's salvation lies in the Shadow Games. I must drown the impurities in shadows of...
"My Pharaoh...I loved you as my king, but your heart was wrong...why did you fear the Puzzle? It holds the name...the name of...
"...my ka is not enough. Even though I have made the Pharaoh's two-hued warrior my own, I cannot reach the sarcophagus...the white light...it sears even through my mask...it burns my face, my soul...but I can endure...
"I, Hakuaten, High Priest of Pharaoh Seto, must not falter in my journey...the sphere, with the eyes of Heh and Hauhet within its crystal shell...it sees both infinitely into the past and eternally into the future...it showed me truth of the Items...the darkness they are steeped in...I cannot allow this to pass...I must...
"I must..."
Nitro glanced up from the journal. "His passages end there, boss. It just skips over to the next one after a few blank pages."
Fanciullo scowled as he looked out the window. "Is that all the guy wrote?"
"I think so...whoever took this translation must have tried to copy it straight from the hieroglyphsand damaged or miscopied some...there are huge chunks missing from it." Nitro rubbed at his eyes. "There are a few I can't translate and the spells can't either...so they must just be gibberish he wrote in his not-so-sane moments."
"Which were probably all the time," Uomo piped from where he, Tormento, and Drago were playing a hand of poker. "I don't think anyone who wrote that stuff had an elevator going to the top floor."
"If you only figured that out now, Uomo, that's why I don't pay you to think." Fanciullo's scowl deepened. "What about his name? Or this Pharaoh Seto?"
"Google's got nothing," Drago replied, dropping two cards from his hand and pulling new ones from the deck before sliding a pile of chips. "Just a few umpteen-billion hits for Seto Kaiba."
"And with our non-standard search engine?" Fanciullo asked over his shoulder. "Did we pump enough cash into it this time?"
"Hey, the hackers gotta live, too," Drago shrugged. "And all they found was some mentions of a 'Pharaoh Seto' and this High Priest dude in some secure Industrial Illusions files. Mostly some stuff about how Pegasus got some inspiration for cards from them. There was a neat picture of the Blue-Eyes on this giant stone tablet, though."
"Blue-Eyes?" Fanciullo rounded fully this time, his brow furrowing confusion. "Did it say where Pegasus got that photo?"
"A tomb some guy named 'Shadi' let him with his magic rod." Drago paused for a moment. "And there was a picture of some kind of crystal thing, too, with eyes on it. Pegasus' notes said his camera woke whatever it was up, but this Shadi put it to sleep with his magic rod."
"So this Memory Crystal Gamma thing is in this Pharaoh Seto's tomb..." Tormento mused, then promptly groaned. "Crap, we can't go to Egypt, that sphinx still wants our heads."
"We're not going to Egypt because we aren't capable of breaking into a tomb without destroying it and we're not common vandals," answered Fanciullo with a low growl. "And because fencing Egyptian antiquities is a sure way to end up with a life sentence somewhere unpleasant." Then he added, under his breath. "And because that sphinx still wants our heads."
"So whaddya we do?" Uomo asked as he carefully made a bet. "Outsource it?"
"Already planned to." Fanciullo said with a prideful smile. "Why get ourselves into more trouble when we can hire someone else to do it for us?"
"Really? Who's the rube this time?" Tormento wanted to know. "Anyone I can rough up? Kinda bored here."
"Please, you try and rough this guy up and it'll be the last thing you do." Fanciullo shook his head. "Don't antagonize him. Or his associates."
"Oh, great, more people who can kill us," Tormento sighed and leaned his face on his hand. "You paid our health insurance through the month, right, boss?"
"You'll be fine, you coward," Fanciullo rolled his eyes. "And we're the Cosa Nostra. If people don't threaten us at least once a week, we're not doing our jobs right."
There was a noise from outside and he turned back to the window. "Speaking of which, Uomo, time to do what I actually pay you for."
"Hmm? Who is it?" Curiously, the men gathered around their boss to peer out at the window... and at the nine riders in tattered cloaks atop nine black horses. In eerie unison, they all looked up towards the window as sensing they were being watched. "Huh..."
"I think we can rule out the Mounties," Fanciullo reached for his sidearm.
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Jemorille: Eden was safe, for the moment. They were gaining more information by the hour about their odd enemy, and a treatment was becoming closer to reality.
Still, Jalal's concern was well-founded, as the strange device referred to as the Pan Dimensional Homing Device was indeed a powerful artifact, one that, as Philip had said, could destroy world peace by manipulating something incredibly potent, the power of Belief.
How dangerous is belief? It all depends on WHAT one believes.
"Paint it Black" is coming soon.
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Shadowchaser Files:
Locations: The Door to Hell
"Smart guys say it's an industrial accident that can't be fixed. Not-so-smart folks say when you look into it, the Devil looks back. I say it's a place to avoid, and that's all I need."
Simply the name "Door to Hell" gets people's attention. If the name of this phenomenon in the deserts outside of the town of Derweze, Turkmenistan, doesn't tell you it's a frightening place, the sight of the gaping crater of flames as wide as a football field is long might convince you.
Here's the story as most Mundanes know it. In 1971, Soviet engineers set up a drilling rig on the site to assess the quantity of petroleum available at the site. Instead, they found a very large quantity of natural gas. Then a sinkhole caused the rig to collapse, forming a crater about 230 feet wide and almost 70 feet deep.
Now, local rumor claims what happened next was the result of a foolish engineer trying to use a tool with an open flame, or in the more dramatic version, someone lighting a cigarette. The Kremlin insists it was more professional, and that they ignited the gas on purpose to halt the potentially dangerous spread of gas. They estimated it would burn out in two or three weeks.
But it never stopped.
Half a century later, it's still burning, and has been called the Door to Hell by locals due to the bright orange flames in the main crater and the boiling mud that tends to surround it. Brave tourists have visited the place over the years, surprisingly, and while the modern government of Turkmenistan has considered projects aimed at extinguishing it in order to operate more efficient natural gas production, it remains burning.
This leads to the aspects of the Door to Hell that only Shadows know about. After several years of burning, it became a conduit, a special kind of elemental portal caused naturally by concentrated amounts of an element. Most conduits don't last long, as their sources (like violent hurricanes and storms) are temporary. When a conduit does last, where it leads to can shift, and it becomes very popular with elemental beings from the other side. By 1980, the crater became inhabited. The place quickly became a hotbed (no pun intended) of activity, leading to some Elemental leaders treating it as a strategically important outpost on the Prime Material Plane.
The first creatures to inhabit the crater were magmen, mischievous pests with the mental capacities of small children who love setting things on fire. Naturally, the reaction from the Shadowchasers was to drive them away, but they were replaced by a group of different tourists, mephits, who saw it as a nice place for a rowdy party. (This was worse than the magmen, seeing as mephits are not only destructive, but loud and obnoxious, and they tend to smoke the foulest-smelling cigars and pipe tobacco in existence.) After they were driven out, some fire rukova kept the peace there for about five years, until they were scared away by efreet working for the Archomental Imix. Supposedly, their presence was part of a rendezvous with the forces of another Archomental named Ogremoch whom Imix was allied with (at the time) but the Shadowchasers didn't need reasons; this was the most dangerous activity the crater had seen, and took a while to clear.
It's obvious that the conduit has become the reason for the fire's tenacity, and Jalal has considered taking steps to get rid of it. Problem is, nobody has any idea how to do that. (Most conduits tend to go away on their own.) Investigating the Door to Hell is difficult for obvious reasons, and the Shadowchasers must keep close watch on it, lest some warlord from Elemental Fire decide to actually use Turkmenistan as the beachhead for an invasion.
Story Ideas: The Door to Hell is a place where Elemental Fire is focused more than any other place on Earth, and draws the attention of beings who use it rather quickly. It can easily play a part with many individuals detailed in the Files, including Navid Qamar (who would also express interest in the area's natural resources) Estevan (he's always interested in new means of planar travel), Red Shroud, the House of Surging Flame (naturally) and the rulers of Arcadia (Tyson, especially).
While Fire is not inherently evil, the majority of beings from this Elemental Plane are, mostly due to its destructive qualities, making the place a danger should an evil force grab hold of it.