GREETINGS!
There have been a lot of delays in getting to the big event, but at long last, as of last week, my beta reader and good friend Craig - whom you know better as 7th Librarian - was wed to his longtime fiancé and my other good friend - whom you know better as Mei1105. I wish both a long and happy life together.
Oh, and there's my chapter too:
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One thing I want to emphasize at this point, is that I have no self-serving intentions in bringing this issue to the forefront. I have no desire for wealth, fame, or political clout, nor do I write this out of hubris or a desire for revenge against my detractors. Should you assume I have ulterior motives, that is your right. I have heard such accusations many times.
I seek only to inform, to prevent. As it should become obvious by now, the disbelief and deception conspiracy theories can cause are often more dangerous than the threats they claim to outline. Certainly, there's little danger in claiming Elvis is alive or even that the Academy Awards are rigged, but some accusations against the ones in authority can go from frivolous to dangerous very quickly.
Think about it. If more and more people believe that vaccinations cause autism, the less will actually get them. Outbreaks of measles, rubella, or even smallpox could happen as a result. The more people believe that HIV is a chemical weapon designed for use against minorities, the more deluded believers are willing to engage in unsafe lifestyles. The more people believe an honest businessman is running a human trafficking operation, the greater the danger some vigilante will decide to take justice into his own hands.
Far more dire fates threaten those who combat the source of the deception...
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Chapter 55
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Space Oddity
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"It's there," said Nitro. "Positive."
The device he was using was registering an intensity aura of 9.999, the highest it could go, but could not focus on a specific type of aura at all. Clear proof that a magical device in the building wasn't garden variety.
"North side of the building, specifically."
"How you want us to do this?" asked Tormento.
"Fast," replied Fanciullo. "In a neighborhood like this, the police will respond in five minutes, maximum, meaning our erstwhile allies will be here in ten. No excuse why you can't do this in three. Go in, get what you need, get out. No side trips, no frivolities, and NO excuses!"
"You got it," started Drago, "but shouldn't we jack the -"
His voice trailed off and he froze, the look Fanciullo was giving him more chilling than that of a lich's.
"Uh, yeah," he stammered.
He was going to suggest disabling the alarm system, which was Tranello's job up to now. He really should have known better.
There was a loud CLICK as Uomo loaded a new clip into his weapon. "Let's go," he said.
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"So, why in the world would you assume this?" asked Karl.
He was suspicious, yes, and Philip did look rather uncomfortable this whole trip.
The door slid open into the room where the three Memory Crystals flanked the computer terminal. Dram and Wells were already there, Wells looking just as suspicious.
"Well, let's just say that those questions we had to answer to access, well…"
"No point in not telling them now," interrupted Dram. "The last time we saw Anita, she gave us that same list of questions, and answers to them. She told us that any message from her to us would use them as a password."
"Wait, Anita would be…" started Karl.
"The woman who founded our little club," answered Philip. "She was also a practitioner of wild magic, and as I told you, she has been more or less AWOL since 1935, when she gave us those instructions. Even then, she barely stayed an hour."
"Given what Karen said about Eden's mentor," added Dram, "it's too much to be a coincidence. What clinched it was that spell Karen described, Bigby's Talented Typist."
"Anita knew that spell?" asked Karl.
"She invented it," replied Dram. "There are only two wizards who could have taught it to Eden, Anita and me. It wasn't me."
"I doubted this when he told me," added Wells, "but it makes sense. A novice in magic would assume the spell was just a lesser known invention of the famed Archmage Bigby. But he died centuries before the invention of printing, let alone typing. He couldn't have designed such a spell even if someone had explained the concept to him. It all falls into place. So, either these two are lying for completely no reason or Belle and Anita were one in the same."
"So, you think I can open a secret file by using different questions?" asked Karl. He couldn't help but be a little excited as he wheeled the chair in front of the terminal. "Like a password within a password, a riddle within a riddle…"
"Exactly the sort of challenge to expect from a wild mage," added SAL.
"You still have that chain contingency prepared?" asked Karl, indicating Dram.
"Never had to use it," replied the kor. "It should be ready to go."
"Then let's give this a shot." He cracked his knuckles.
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"Meh, he's not answering his mobile," sighed Dunstan. "Probably slipped away to some pub."
"Want me to go look for him?" asked Ferd. "I think I can -"
He was cut off as the door was kicked in. Ferd turned and only briefly saw Uomo.
"Wha -" said Dunstan.
The masked man opened fire…
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On an inconspicuous, grassy gnoll several miles outside of Lansing (and about a mile from the highway, requiring something of a hike to get to it) was an equally-inconspicuous stone. You'd have to get close and probably kneel or squat to see the runes carved into it and would have to know several Shadowkind languages to read them.
Of course, the dark, floating robe that may or may not have had anyone inside it and the odd scepter hovering over the stone were both anything but inconspicuous.
Jalal had seen the cloak a few times before, so it was hard to be nervous about it, even if he did have no idea what it was. Maskent had many ways of manifesting himself and communicating with allies, and it was hard to tell at any given time whether he was truly there or just using some projection of himself. Which was the entire point.
The scepter was a lot more unnerving. Even more so as he reached the apex of the hill.
"I'll be honest, Jalal," said he Incantifer's deep voice, "I consulted five of my colleges, and all advised against using this method. I myself debated many hours while considering other ideas."
"Which means this is the only surefire way to defeat a platonic, I assume?" asked Jalal.
"No, this is a shot in the dark," replied Maskent, "but in this case, it's a shot in the dark with a real gun. Anything else gives you a slingshot at most. I cannot stress enough, use this only as an absolute last resort."
"It's a Cursed Needle, right?" asked Jalal, disregarding the pessimistic statement quickly.
"Originally, yes," affirmed the Incantifer. "I'll start at the beginning. The Fraternity of Order."
"I thought you were an honorary member of that group."
"I am, and thus know a great deal about their dogma. Quite simply, they believe the key to understanding the Multiverse is knowing the Laws that govern it. Master and understand the Laws of Reality, and you'll master Reality itself. Now, just how to master them is something they debate.
"About two decades ago, a splinter group thought, simply, you had to use math."
"Uh-oh," said Jalal.
"Indeed," replied Maskent. "These academia wizards tried to study the Laws of creation and believed that anything they could imagine could be found somewhere using divination, research, and old-fashioned observation, done via special methods that involved logic, symbolism, and a form of mathematics that made the calculus used by physicians and astronomers look childishly simple. And before you ask, no, I do not know where this form is taught."
"Go on," insisted Jalal.
"This may all sound familiar to you by now. They believed this was how he world inhabited by the Keepers was discovered, and it seems likely the Pan Dimensional Homing Device works on a similar mechanism. Of course, it is not uncommon to think you can discover such secrets via calculation and study, but they did manage to get results, and a knack for learning the ins and out of Mechanus better than other mortal beings. One member of this splinter group saw potential in Ape King Zeman's reality warping devices and managed to obtain one after the Earthbound Gods' defeat.
"He experimented on the formulae, learning how to expand and alter the 'plus' and 'minus' effects using additional enchantments. He then wondered if he could take this further and apply multiplication and division via the same process."
"You're scaring me now."
"His results on experimental test subjects were… unpleasant. Then he wondered if he could use this process to 'square' or 'cube' a subject. Or a living being. The results of this are best left undescribed.
"His fellows eventually realized that he had, to put it bluntly, been driven insane."
"Stands to reason," added Jalal. "The Earthbound Gods are beings of Chaos."
"True, this unfortunate wizard was trying to improve upon a dark corruption of Chaos using by applying methods of Law, an incredibly dangerous gambit. He was banished from their ranks but continued his research in that townhouse until he came up with, well, this." He nodded to the scepter. "No idea what his intention was, but he inadvertently turned it into something that might be able to defeat a platonic permanently."
"Wait, why the emphasis on 'permanently'?"
"Know why platonics have numbers after their names? When you do manage to kill one, they build a replacement, learn from whatever caused them to fail, and make an appropriate upgrade. HOWEVER…" He stopped briefly and touched the part of his chest where his heart should be. "It's not widely known, but a platonic has a central core of sorts, usually here. A globe of some metallic substance where all its power is focused. It's nearly indestructible, but if exposed, radiates an overwhelming aura of Law."
He nodded to the scepter again. "Should this device be activated, done simply by moving the switch from the 'minus' to 'plus' position, it would trigger something called a Chaos Storm, meaning -"
"Chaos Storm?" gasped Jalal. "Are you off your rocker?"
"No, because if Antisthenes' core was exposed, and the storm started within ten feet or so, the two powerful and contradictory forces would cause a, well… Ever see the movie Ghostbusters?"
"A magical crossing of the streams," replied Jalal, "done on purpose."
"Exactly," replied Maskent. "It would obliterate everything in a ten to twenty-foot radius. Now, the Chaos Storm will hit anywhere from 15 to 30 seconds after the switch is flipped, and Antisthenes will try to stop you if he can. I doubt he's ignorant enough not to see it coming."
"Wait," said Jalal, "if everything within ten to twenty feet is vaporized…"
Maskent was quiet. Jalal slowly reached for the infamous scepter, his hand closing around it.
"Like I said," repeated Maskent, "use only as an absolute last resort."
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Uomo looked around. So far so good, no alarms. His two victims were lying on the floor, likely never having seen it coming.
Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He started to turn around…
"Surprise!" said Emily.
He tried to aim, only for her to grab the gun and crush it, then belt him one hard in the face.
Unfortunately for Emily, Drago and Tormento were behind her. Six rounds fired, and she fell on her face.
"It's in there!" shouted Drago, pointing to the office door, which Uomo had the luck to have fallen against. "Move it, move it, move it!"
Uomo growled, rubbing his jaw and cursing his bad luck. Of course, seeing as he moved about two seconds before it was kicked open from the other side by something with raw power comparable to a jackhammer, he would reanalyze his luck later.
Of course, his two partners opened fire again, confident that whatever had knocked the door open meant them no good.
"We get him?" asked Drago.
There was a loud sigh, and the temperature in the building started to rise, quickly. "You know," said Sylvester's voice, deeper than it usually was, "this is what happens when you watch too much imported American television."
"Smoke em!" shouted Tormento.
Even as the guns fired, Sylvester kept talking. "You start thinking life is like an episode of Miami Vice."
They stopped shooting for a minute, and watched him step out from the doorway, now in his true, efreet form.
"Life is really more like an episode of Masterpiece Theatre," he added, "but with one difference…"
They opened fire again, even thought it was clear he didn't care. "Stop shooting you idiots!" shouted Uomo.
Too late. By the time they realized that the overwhelming heat he was generating was melting the bullets before they even reached him, he knocked the weapons out of both their hands with one slap.
"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," he growled, his voice even more inhuman. "...life isn't narrated by Alistair Cooke."
Of course, this was going well-above their heads as the angry elemental's two burning hands grabbed them by the shirt collars.
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Outside, Fanciullo opened the trunk of his car, mouthing obscenities as he did so.
Naturally, this was taking much longer than three minutes, and given what was happening, it was a toss-up who showed up first, the police, the Shadowchasers, or the fire department
He found what he needed, a metal briefcase with a rubber handle. Grasping it and squeezing the fingerprint-sensitive handle caused it to flip open. A very special handgun was inside resting on a felt lining, along with four gemstones.
He had paid a lot for this prototype, and while it wasn't as good as Fayte Nyte's model, it would suffice.
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"What the hell is this?"
Dram's statement was valid, as the screen had accessed the last thing he had expected. The monitor had changed to a digital space scene. The words "Nintendo Presents" moved to the center in shiny, silvery letters.
"I was hoping you knew," added Wells. "A video game?"
It sure seemed like that, and the 16-bit spaceship in front of a planet indicated an old one.
"This is Star Fox," answered Karl. "For the old Super NES."
"Practically an antique," added SAL. "But I think this may be an altered version."
This was confirmed quickly, with a giggle as the title screen came up. The group shot of the foxlike protagonists and his three partners - a frog, rabbit, and eagle, all in spacesuits - was pushed aside quickly.
It was her, the Damned Magician Girl, also in a 16-bit portrait, but even such a crude image emphasized a smile and perky expression that proved it could not possibly be the sadist whom Karen had met.
A box with text appeared, saying, "Follow to the end and to my secrets be led, if it already isn't over your head!"
"Yes, that's Anita all right," said Dram, his expression bordering sarcasm as he remembered his old mentor's sense of humor.
"So, we have to play it?" asked Philip. "Isn't this one of those games that came with seizure warnings?"
"No problem," added Karl, "SAL can't get seizures, she has no eyes, and I tested her equilibrium with several of the notoriously hard games from the 1990s."
"You're looking at the unofficial speed-run record holder for both Battletoads and Ghost 'n Goblins," said SAL in a smug tone.
A surprise came next. There was a blip, and Damned Magician Girl's portrait changed, now with her hands on her hips and an annoyed expression. "Think you can win without trying?" read the caption. "Then do it without dying. On Level 3."
"As in with no lives lost, on hard level?" replied SAL. "Still no problem. Let's go!"
The title screen returned, and the Karl hit Enter key, activating the Start button, and accessing the difficulty setting. Then the down arrow to Level 3, the Hard setting. A cutscene appeared, with a cloudy blue planet and the words "Corneria, the Base". Also, in the foreground were two portraits superimposed, the protagonist and a dog-like guy in an important-looking uniform. "Star Fox Team, our last resort is to counter attack Venom!" Then there was a verbal message of "Good Luck!" and the fighter craft sped over a landscape of green fields under a sunny sky.
"So far so good," said Karl.
But then, a timer with "30:00" in big numbers appeared, shrinking and Damned Magician Girl showing up again, looking smug. "Note this timer, note it well, fail to beat it… I'll send you screaming to Hell."
"Okay, that was a lot less pleasant," said Wells. "Not the best rhyme either."
"No doubt about it, this is Anita," said Dram, gravely. "She made the exact same threat against the Prussian war criminal Ivan Zelkova right before she incinerated him with Nahal's Wildfire."
Okay, THIS is a problem, Karl," said SAL, her voice suddenly tinged with concern. "NO WAY can I complete the entire game in thirty minutes. Maybe on the easy level, but on hard level I don't think it's possible."
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Damned Magician Girl's position changed again, and she looked somber and serious. "Two paths now, and the last exit to the Easy Path is two minutes away. Refuse to take it, and the Hard Path becomes your only choice."
"She told me about that one," said Eden's voice.
They turned around, noting her entrance. "She told it to another enemy," she said, "one with a hostage. It was an ultimatum that meant, surrender the captive to me in two minutes and I'll just leave with her; otherwise, I'm coming in and will show no mercy."
"Yeah, that's what did Zelkova in," said Dram with a nod. "He thought her warning was a bluff."
Karl looked at the screen, even as the fighter plane controlled by SAL maneuvered around blocky buildings and towers, shooting through the enemy crafts and blocky giant robots. Two minutes to reconsider and abort ... he thought. But then… is it an impossible task?
"Keep going, SAL," he said. "I think I know what to do."
"I sure hope you do," she answered.
If anything, she had been telling the truth about her skill in such games, as the clock had barely passed the one-minute mark the fighter craft was now blasting away at the first boss of the game - not a spaceship nor a robot but strangely resembling both at once - dodging as the broken pieces of the huge device tumbled towards it. Finally, it exploded, and the words "STAGE ONE: CLEAR!" appeared, with a bar filling to indicate the score.
So now what? thought Karl. He was hoping Anita would show up again, but as the clock ticked towards 28:00, it was clear he had to decide NOW.
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Efreet were known throughout the cosmos for being cruel, tyrannical, power-hungry, egotistical beings, often condescending and even sadistic towards humans and other mortal beings. While all of them had some claim to nobility, the ones recognized as leaders were worse. Many believed efreet royalty had infernal blood giving them tempers as fiery as their home. Some compared their attitude to rich, upper-class snobs, but the biggest difference was, picking a fight with one would bring fury down with raw power better compared to a forest wildfire.
Those who spent most of their time among humans - like Sylvester - could suppress their brutal nature to adhere to the norms of civilization, so long as nobody angered them enough to get on their bad side.
Both Drago and Tormento realized, as he started to strangle them, his bad side had clearly been gotten on.
"You know, I never liked those three anyway," he growled, nodding to Ferd, Dunstan, and Emily, "but they knew enough not to barge in uninvited. It's simply not polite!"
Fortunately for them, they themselves were more resilient than the average humans. None of them were indestructible, however,
"LET EM GO!" yelled Uomo.
Unfortunately, the wrench Uomo had found and used as a bludgeon proved softer than Sylvester's skull. The clumsy strike did make him let go, only to grab hold of Uomo.
"I never trusted men who wear masks," he snarled. "Let's see what under yours."
"No, NO, STOP!" screamed the assassin, struggling.
Then the world was turned upside down. The heat turned to incredible cold, and the wind was forced out of Uomo's lungs as the larger Shadow fell over, on top of him.
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A new screen appeared, with the title "ASTEROID BELT" superimposed over a, well, an asteroid belt. The guy in the uniform appeared again, with the words, "Use the L or R button to escape the tractor beam of the enemy battleship! You can do it Fox!"
"SAL, listen, head for the second big asteroid here and focus all the attacks on it."
The craft on the screen seemed to quiver a little before SAL answered. "Karl," she asked, "please tell me you don't want me to do what I sure hope you don't want me to do."
"I do!" he replied. "After all, what have we got to lose here?"
"What are you -" started Philip.
The large asteroid exploded, and a giant, phoenix-like bird appeared. The craft flew directly towards it, flying into the chest.
"You'll see," replied Karl. "Next stop, the Out of This Dimension!"
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"Where'd you get that thing boss?" asked Drago.
It took a minute for Fanciullo to answer. His arm ached from the weapon's powerful kickback, which would have likely been dislocated or even torn off had he been human.
"Same place where I'm going to have to pay fifty thousand clams to replace that shot I had to use," he finally replied, "thanks to you lunkheads." He holstered the weapon. "But at least we're alive. Nitro?"
"Got it, boss," said the diminutive Shadow. He emerged from what was left of Addams' office, holding the magical bag that Ferd used to contain Memory Crystal Gamma. "I'd suggest a quick exit, people!"
"Testa di cazzo", hissed Uomo. He shoved Sylvester's body off him, holding his likely-cracked ribs as he got up. He'd be speaking for Drago, Tormento, and himself if he were to complain about being humiliated by this, but the idea of making Fanciullo even angrier didn't appeal to him.
As they ran from the showroom, not looking back, the reason no alarms or sirens had gone off hadn't occurred to them, nor did they question, when they piled into the limousine, why the Copek building looked completely unharmed from the outside.
When it was out of site, the robot in the display case in the showroom started to hum. The hatch on its chest began to open slowly again...
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In 1993, hidden levels in video games were rare, as developers knew they were incredibly hard to find and rarely seen by most players. After all, internet chat rooms devoted to these games wouldn't become commonplace for years, and YouTube was still far in the future. The only way to find hidden bonuses and cheat codes was to find them in magazines (and hoping you had the right issue) or calling a hint hotline (almost always a 900 number). So, the only way to even know about a bonus level back then was to luck out and stumble upon it while playing,
As the new screen appeared, the guy in the uniform did too, shouting, "Come in Airwings! Fox, where are you? We need you to protect Cornea!" Despite this ominous message, it was still followed with a "Good Luck!" and a "STAGE THREE" message.
Of course, his question would be hard to answer, because this level that SAL was directing the craft through didn't seem to fit the mold. It was full of colorful planets with funny faces, with the whole backdrop wavy and distorted. The enemies attacking now looked like paper planes while the music - Strauss' Voices of Spring Waltz - wasn't the type to suggest a shooting game.
"Uh, very pretty," said Philip, "but why the panic?"
"Cause now there's no way to finish," replied SAL.
"Say WHAT?" exclaimed Dram.
Karl lifted his other hand in a "calm down" gesture, but SAL explained. "There's no end to this level. There's a boss at the end but killing it doesn't move you to another."
"Uh, you did know what happens when this reaches zero?" said Dram, whose stern voice sounded nervous now. He was pointing to the timer, which was down to 25:00 now.
"I have a hunch here," said Karl, "keep going, SAL."
"Better be a damn good one," added Dram.
Wells, meanwhile, was thinking hard as he watched the screen, clearly noticing that Eden was concentrating harder. He thought he had the same hunch, and quite possibly, so did Eden.
"So, what's all the hubbub here, bub?" said a new voice.
Everyone except Eden turned to see Fanciullo and Tormento come in, the latter holding Memory Crystal Gamma.
"I'm not sure I can pretend I like you guys right now," remarked Wells.
"That any way to say thank you?" asked Fanciullo. "Think you were looking for this."
Dram was, of course, shocked to see it, even if he was a bit suspicious. "Bring it here," he replied, motioning to a pedestal like the ones now holding Alpha, Beta, and Delta, one which had been prepared for the fourth.
Just hope it matters, he thought.
The boss - and the verbal message of "Incoming Enemy!" - finally started to fly into view, and Eden softly chanted.
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Fanciullo and his henchmen felt sore, exhausted, and humiliated, but from what had happened, it was obvious their side was the victor in the confrontation at Copek. Despite the illusion shrouding it, the flames had rendered the Copek building a complete loss, the bodies of its owner, manager, and two of their assistants sprawled on the floor of the showroom.
With the sound of glass crushing under his feet as he walked around the room, Diogenes fixated his gaze of the four victims. Percentage numbers appeared as he took hard looks at them: 12% for Dunstan, 15% for Ferd, 22% for Sylvester, and 83% Emily.
He nodded, then knelt over Emily, a blue aura covering his right hand. Behind him, the odd green smoke started to rise over her three colleges, and they disappeared.
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"A slot machine?" asked Philip. "That's novel."
Dram momentarily looked up from the Crystal, which he was fastening into the pedestal. He shook his head, then went back to it.
Indeed, that was the best way to describe the giant enemy that appeared, but Karl noticed a difference already, the music. It had switched to the far livelier "Infernal Galop". (Most widely known as a tune for can-can dancers.) The intriguing thing was, the music was supposed to change to "When the Saints Come Marching In".
"You know what to do, SAL," said Karl.
She did, firing and hitting the Slot Machine's lever, causing the numbers to spin. As Eden continued to chant softly, the three reels spun, all three hitting 7.
"Eh, lucky," said Philip. There was a loud "DING! DING! DING!" and the Slot Machine exploded into gold and silver coins.
Then the game truly went off-script, with a black hole opening against the backdrop. Eden relaxed with a loud, audible breath, but then exclaimed, "Belle, you're a genius."
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"Macaroni and cheese," sighed Hank. "I hate macaroni and cheese."
Still, there wasn't much left in the commissary at HQ right now, and he was really here for the coffee anyway, much like Douglas, Greg, Penelope, and Red Feather.
"So how often does this sort of thing happen?" asked Greg, who was clearly not used to the typical global crisis.
"Meh, you should've been here five years ago during that whole mess we had in Singapore," answered Penelope. "Douglas, you were there, right? We -"
"I thought we agreed never to mention that again," interrupted Red.
"Calm down everyone," urged Hank. He set several cups on the table. "Everyone's nervous, but hopefully, we're at a lull."
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"What happened?" demanded Dram.
They got their answer quickly, as a panel flipped into the foreground showing Damned Magician Girl smiling with a thumbs up gesture. "All right!" said the caption.
"Seems I just opened a secret Warp Zone that Belle - ahem, Anita - programmed in," answered SAL. "No doubt about it, this copy of the game was given some tweaks by an unaffiliated third party before it was downloaded here."
The screen was now showing a cloudy, green planet, with the words "VENOM - THE FINAL CONFRONTATION" superimposed over it. "Yes, this is the final level of the game," she continued, "and with 14 minutes still on the clock, we should meet the condition with about a minute to spare."
Dram nearly fell over from surprise, and SAL simply continued blasting away at the enemy ships.
"How did you -" started Dram.
"Didn't," replied Karl, "but it seems she was a genius."
It started to make sense now to Dram, Philip, and Wells. Whatever this hidden message was, she had to keep it from Antisthenes at all costs, and not tell it to anyone the platonic might be able to interrogate or recruit. But how to keep such a secret from someone who can download information from a victim's very thoughts?
She had to get creative and store it in a place with a unique entrance condition. Should Antisthenes find the passwords to access the video game, he'd likely do all the research he could find on it and deduce that it was an impossible task designed to lead the user to his doom. Finishing the game in thirty minutes was physically impossible, and while he could find information about the bonus level, he'd also discover that it was a "dead end".
Anyone could have surmised that a hidden warp zone might be in the bonus level (where defeating the boss quickly was dependent on chance, and thus right up a wild mage's alley) but taking such a risk would require a leap of faith on the player's part, as going past the "point of no return" would prove fatal if the hunch was wrong. Antisthenes saw things in black and white; he would never take such a risk on a hunch, especially when faced with wild magic.
Meanwhile, Wells was looking at Tormento funny. "You get into a fight or something?" he finally asked.
The signs that mobster had been hurt were obvious, his clothes were torn and burnt, and he had a black eye, a fat lip, and mussed hair.
"The idiot was drinking at some bar and picked a fight," interrupted Fanciullo, quickly. "I had to go in and break it up."
Tormento nodded in response, but Wells didn't seem convinced, and noting that he had never heard a completely-sober man claim he had been drinking to explain injuries. Usually it was the other way around.
The timer on the screen was counting down past the four-minute mark, but it seemed they might finish with time to spare. SAL's craft was blasting away at the final boss of the game - a giant, spooky, mask-like face. As it finally exploded, odd script started to scroll in the background as the spacescape took on a more astral feel.
"What's that say?" asked Fanciullo.
"Afraid my Supernal is kind of rusty," answered Wells, "but I think they can read it."
Dram turned and noticed the four Memory Crystals were noticing it and starting to access a new cache of information. "We may have just hit gold here, everyone," exclaimed Eden. She nearly pushed Karl aside as the runes gave way to actual words on the screen and became more understandable. "This is exactly what Belle had been looking for!"
"WHAT?" asked Fanciullo.
Philip flipped open his deck holder, grabbing the first card within it that his hand fell on. This was it.
The fourth Field Spell had appeared, the one showing the end-point of the journey detailed on all the others.
"I think I see," said SAL. "Some sort of formulae with schematics. Hold on, this is a lot to take in."
"Just be quick," said Dram, "this is making me even more nervous now."
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In the bridge room, two of the technicians were having a… unorthodox discussion while watching the monitors.
"Chunky Monkey," said one of them. "Cherry Garcia, Chocolate Therapy, Karamel Sutra…"
Oh brother, thought Jabels, rolling his eyes.
"Phish Food…."
"They still make Rum Raisin?" added Dolores.
"Don't you start too," snapped Jabels. "Everyone just be quiet."
Everyone quieted, and all they could hear was he hum of the monitors.
That was even worse.
"Uhm, how about Vanilla Butter Pecan?" he asked.
They were all worried sick over the sudden lull, and it was obvious. Jabels knew in his bones something was going to happen, and almost wished for it to come.
A new blip on his own screen confirmed his hunch, and would later make him curse his own folly for tempting fate...
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In the commissary, Douglas nearly choked while swallowing coffee as the alarm ripped through the whole complex.
"ALERT!" screamed Dolores voice. "Class 14 Security Breach! This is not a drill! Repeat, not a drill! All Shadowchasers and guard staff report to outside of R&D building!"
"What the," said Greg, yelling over the alarm. "Class 14? What's that?"
"There's NO such thing as a Class 15 breach," replied Hank.
It was a rather ominous reply, but more than enough for them to forget the headaches and sore joints, both for them and everyone else in Shadowchasers HQ. Especially the ones in the room where SAL was in the middle of a download. After all, that was a room insidethe R&D building.
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Outside said building, a large rectangular parade ground provided held two statues of dwarves around a well-manicured garden. The first statue's inscription read: Magni Ironhand, chief of Clan Ironhand, whose strong arms and generous folk shaped this complex with fortitude. The second read, Dirven Ironhand, master engineer. His genius was the cornerstone with which this complex was designed.
This was not the original monument, as it had been four times in the past due to occasions where a destructive enemy had breached the compound, a situation that, due to their arduous work, rarely happened. Much like it had now.
Nobody saw him approach. He seemed to have dropped out of the sky, unseen by most of the HQ's preventative wards, toppling the two statues and cracking the cobbled paving with the impact.
For most Shadowchasers, this was the first time they truly saw Antisthenes up close. The platonic was very hard to describe using words, because unlike Diogenes, he - or it, it was hard to refer to it with a gender now - defied most shapes that humans assign to living beings. Its torso and arms looked like elongated geometric shapes, possibly cylinders or prisms (or maybe shifting between the two) while its lower body was, in place of legs, a smaller torso terminating in a single geometric point. Its "head" was a squat tube with a disk over a visor that suggested eyes. The joints (for lack of a better word) were not covered by its adamantine plating, revealing innards that seemed to be composed of circuitry and gears. Every part of it looked uncomfortably sharp. It was ten feet tall, possibly shorter if it rested upon the ground, but it seemed to hover slightly above it.
Naturally, this intrusion did not go unchallenged. A squad of iron golems and warforged had surrounded the platonic. Oddly enough, Antisthenes barely moved even as flaming cannonballs and burning lightning from the magical constructs exploded around it.
"STOP! Hold your fire!" yelled Jabels. As he and Dolores ran into the parade ground, Antisthenes finally fought back, waving its arm and crushing through the golems in its way like they were tissue paper.
"That's far enough tin man!"
The threat came from Douglas, as he and the other on-duty Chasers formed a barrier. All except for Karl and Wells. A dozen swords, magical firearms, and wands pointed at the platonic.
Douglas' warning received no answer...
Throbbing portals opened to either side of the platonic, releasing a pair of iron golems twice its size. They charged and struck, their fists simultaneously impacting it's hide hard enough to shake the ground. As the Shadowchasers watched, they felt the tremor in their teeth.
Antisthenes stood there motionless, before it's eyes suddenly gleamed, electricity crackling over the exposed circuitry in its limbs before the energy was unleashed in a violent spray of crackling energy blades.
The golems stood motionless for a moment before they began to slowly fall apart, crumbling into pieces which fell into heaps. The blades had carved them up into chunks of stone as though their bodies were so much kindling.
Antisthenes turned to their dumbfounded controllers. The Shadowchasers present took a few steps back, Antisthenes finally spoke, it's tone as cold and unforgiving as the weight of a guillotine blade upon one's neck
"My turn."
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Copa dosta, what did I get myself into?
Fanciullo and his men stood in front of fortified entrance, While Dram, Philip and the other Shadowchasers - minus the gauntlet that held SAL's physical form - stood flanking it. Loud crashes started to get closer and closer.
The door finally smashed open, Penelope and Hank thrown in after it. Tormento and Fanciullo only waited a moment, then opened fire when they saw its now-burning visor…
Exactly what hit them was, again, hard to describe. The platonic seemed to literally push the air forward with a force that hit with a sledgehammer. As Wells and the others tried to retaliate, another simple wave of its hand slammed them all against the walls to either side.
It looked behind it briefly. Then it moved forward, effortlessly knocking the door to Karl's lab over.
Eden was there, looking at the platonic with raw fury.
"So that was it," she said. "You couldn't crack the program yourself, so you were waiting for us to do it for you."
"You should thank me, gautiere," it answered. "You spent so long trying to find purpose, and I gave one to you."
Eden practically roared as she pounced, but like before, an effortless backhand slap was all the platonic needed. She collapsed, blood dripping from her nose.
"I admit, this is better than I expected," it continued. "Your mentor's divination applied to all four Memory Crystals has fully opened the path, putting the completion of my project decades ahead of schedule." The odd, green smoke started to rise around the four Crystals. "Accessing the Temple will be a simple matter. As will exposing the Truth to a world so blinded by deception."
"As if that's a good thing," growled Eden.
"I fail to see why it wouldn't," answered Antithesis. "The falsehoods humans believed for years only kept them from their true potential. Think of how medical knowledge would have prospered had pseudoscience like humourism and phrenology been rejected by the contemporaries of their inventors. How many wars would have been prevented had the idea of Divine Right of Kings been dismissed as nonsense. How exploration would have thrived if they had discarded antiquated beliefs about the world being flat, and being the center or the universe,"
"How they'd have gone irrevocably mad had all those revelations been thrust upon them all at once," added Eden. "You'd be applying divine shock therapy to billions of humans."
Then she froze. Red Feather… she thought.
Red's face was bruised, with blood trickling down the edge of her mouth, but the fight had clearly not all been taken from her. Possibly the opposite. She was behind Antithesis, slowly advancing on him, drawing her Bowie knife from her belt. Her eyes were feral, reflecting bestial ferocity.
As much as Eden wanted to scream "Red, please, don't! You'll be killed!" she realized doing so would cause it to happen much faster.
"Sometimes the hands of Fate must be forced," continued Antithesis.
Red Feather lunged at the platonic, only for it to turn to face her rather quickly. Or rather, part of it. Its head spun 180 degrees to look her in the eye. The Shadowchaser was so startled by it she could barely react as one of the construct's arms reached backwards, grabbing her by the throat.
"Persistence," it said. "The one thing I have never understood about mortals."
"DON'T!" screamed Eden.
Antithesis briefly looked back at her, then at Red, who was struggling against the powerful grip. The grip became tighter as he addressed the Shadowchaser.
"'This is not a warning, this is a demonstration of what will happen if you oppose me. This is not out of malice nor fear, nor arrogance, but simply to further establish an understanding between us."
Then, to Eden's complete and utter horror, he flicked his wrist, causing a loud, wet CRUNCH.
"I will kill any of you who attempt to engage me."
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Jemorille: For obvious reasons, my usual narration seems inappropriate here.
I will simply say; this story will be continued...