FALL SEVEN TIMES
by Ulquiorra9000
Chapter 24
It was almost entirely due to Jin-Gitaxias' elaborate and subtle spy network that Radiah had any chance to dive below New Phyrexia's surface for her little mission.
Radiah wandered the Progress Engine's territory seemingly at random, cresting hills of hexagonal chrome plates, passing under twisted rock towers, and striding alongside crooked rivers of black oil until she found an abandoned Neurok apartment. She passed through the cluttered front lobby, visited room 107, and sharply tapped the butt end of her porcelain staff on the floor.
At once, a five foot-square door slid aside to reveal rusty iron stairs leading steeply downwards.
Nice and slow, now. Radiah eased her way down those steps, and as she walked, fist-sized red gems glowed to life along the walls like candles, bathing her in an eerie crimson glow. Her high-heeled boots were loud on the steps as she plunged further down, her arms wide to help maintain her balance.
At some point, the stairs leveled out into a wider cavern, one of mixed iron, nickel, and granite. Whole chandeliers of glowing red gems hung overhead, and there were bootprints everywhere.
"Who goes there?" came a voice in the guttural Phyrexian language.
From one of the many side caverns emerged a Quiet Furnace overseer, a brawny human man with iron-studded boots, a parted leather jacket, and random spikes of glowing iron on his toughened skin. He held a long staff ending with a spiked curl and a short chain. His eyes glowed red from phyresis, and those demanding eyes locked onto Radiah's.
Radiah smiled and tossed her silver-blonde hair. "Radiah Albazan, high priestess of the Machine Orthodoxy, and now ambassador of the Machine Orthodoxy-Progress Engine partnership."
She knew to wait and let this fellow work at his own pace; no one dared push the tempers of Urabrask's agents.
It paid off. "You clearly mean us no harm today," the overseer said gruffly, pointing with his staff. "You came alone; good. And finding this place takes enough planning and knowledge so you wouldn't come here lightly."
"That is certainly so."
The overseer glanced over his shoulder and barked a command. At his words, five long-headed goblins in dented, rusty armor and holding battle cleavers arrived, along with two more humans. "Ambassador Albazan is to be escorted to the boss," he told them. "Move it!"
The goblins jumped as though electrocuted, then gathered around Radiah, chattering excitedly and prodding her with their clawed fingers. Amused, Radiah let them lead the way.
Whoever this "boss" was, his office was really a lair that sat in a rock spire in the middle of a magma lake. The goblins and humans escorted her across a sturdy, lattice-like bridge, and around her, Radiah saw endless hordes of compleat Vulshok, goblins, and repurposed myr toiling away, either repairing battle golems, forging armor, or mining precious minerals. The hot hair buffeted Radiah's silky hair and hood, and she could smell unwashed bodies, hot iron, rust, and half-melted metals and bodies everywhere. Good; she wouldn't deal with potential allies who would do any less!
Radiah ignored the barked commands of brutal-looking overseers and stepped into the boss' lair. Inside, a barrel-chested, oversized man lounged on a couch of smooth, melted cobalt, with several myr with red eyes serving him an endless stream of snacks and rare wines. The left side of his head, his right arm, and the exposed ribs on his left flank were all gleaming iron, with veins of red Phyrexian mana glowing through the skin.
"I am Radiah Albazan, a high priestess of the Machine Orthodoxy,"Radiah began. "And you?"
The man shifted on his couch, and it actually creaked under his weight. "Nalthaxria Ulgabrazin," he told her in a surprisingly tenor voice. He made a raspy chuckle. "Feel free to call me Naltha, however. Consider it a fellow officer's treat. Normally, anyone around here who mispronounces my name feels this."
From the floor, Naltha picked up a coiled, metal wire whip with barbs of obsidian along its length.
"Indeed," Radiah said, nodding. "Naltha, your region of the Quiet Furnace is directly underneath a battleground, one between the blue-white partnership and the foolish green and black hordes. I would have your assistance."
Naltha tossed his head back for a booming laugh. "Surface people. All the same," he said, toying with the whip between his tough fingers. A crooked grin spread across his wide face. His left eye was like an ember, one without a pupil. "You ask much of me, priestess Albazan."
"There are... resources, and secrets on the surface that you normally can't reach, due to violent border disputes," Radiah pressed him. "Many of which can be yours if you intervene on those border conflicts."
Naltha's tongue ran along his teeth. "I sense that you are on the defensive."
"A fair point," Radiah conceded. "But time is on our side. Elesh Norn and Jin-Gitaxias only need the borders secure until my mission on Kamigawa is complete. After that, we will by far have enough power, and the enlightenment, to protect ourselves."
"Hmmmmmm." Naltha shifted again, and accepted a tray of food from a clanking myr. The beak-headed creature bowed and backed away. Naltha placed a morsel in his mouth and chewed, his mismatched eyes contemplating Radiah's entire frame. And, of course, her entire request.
Finally, Naltha set the tray on the arm of his couch. "This whip of mine... it has drawn much blood. Many of its victims proceed with their jobs, and those who don't, end up in the slag piles. Do you know what that means?"
Radiah nodded. She'd heard the reports from spies. "Slow or rebellious workers are melted down for the good of the Quiet Furnace, as your praetor demands."
Naltha laughed again. "Nicely put! It's a relief to speak with someone else with brains around here." Naltha reached over and consumed another morsel. He pointed at his guest. "So you should understand what I'm saying: whip your men into shape! If you have time to visit me, you've got time to force your porcelain minions back into fighting shape. Can you not ignite their inner flame?"
"The general metaphor is appreciated, Naltha, but we of the Machine Orthodoxy do not fight with fury or haste," Radiah said simply. "Rather, with conviction, and unity, and faith in our grand hierarchy. It is our nature."
Naltha rumbled deep in his throat. "I will never understand surface dwellers."
Radiah took a deep breath. I'll have to sweeten the deal and make this metal minion hear me out. She listed a number of assets between the Progress Engine and Machine Orthodoxy that could be his. She was allowed to give away most of them, and for the rest... well... surely Elesh Norn would appreciate the end justifying the means.
Naltha leaned forward in his couch and toyed with the whip between his fingers again. "I see! Well, should you prove yourself against the Seven Steel Thanes and the Vicious Swarm, priestess Albazan, I will certainly lend you my men to further turn the tide. But until then, ignite their inner flame!"
There was no getting around Naltha's desire to hear stories of the Orthodoxy's soldiers fighting in a furious frenzy. Very well. Radiah bowed her head. "Have your scouts watch us," she said, backing herself out of the room to conclude the meeting. "For the good of New Phyrexia, I will hold my end of the bargain."
"And I," Naltha told her. He didn't look away until Radiah was escorted back across the lattice bridge.
Radiah quickly calculated the new strategy in her mind. She'd have to activate certain... assets... to move this plan along.
*o*o*o*o*
Mizuki's ears filled with the thousand-fold click of banana-sized pincers as the thousands of beetles skittered towards her and Azrael. In seconds, the swarm had the two lone humans surrounded in a sea of oily, cyborg chitin, and the walking hive was still spitting out new minions every few seconds.
"I admit, I did not expect to be this heavily outnumbered if we got into a fight," Azrael said, his voice tight with concern. "We've got to cover each other's flanks, Mizuki. Let them come."
Like we can do anything else! Mizuki thought, but Azrael's plan was sound. She stood to the taller man's back, her Fiora sword at the ready, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her heart racing.
The beetles screeched and surged forth.
"Raaaaaah!" Mizuki swung her short sword with all her might, and a whipflare of red-white mana swept through the creatures' ranks. Dozens of insects boiled away, and charred bits of chitin and random legs or pincers littered the ground. Undeterred, more beetles advanced with astonishing speed, a living tidal wave.
Nearby, Azrael swung his fists back and forth, and Mizuki watched his red-black-blue ribbons of mana eviscerate and vaporize countless beetles. Again and again Azrael lashed out, but the beetles started forming clumps that created large empty spaces on the chrome hills. The clumps roved around and evaded Azrael's blows, and once a ribbon came close to a beetle cluster, the insects scattered.
Whoa! These bugs adjust fast! Mizuki bared her teeth and pointed her sword. She fired a red-white mana helix and swept it across the battlefield, vaporizing scored more of the beetles. Panting, she whirled around and released a ball of white flame that burnt away a flanking cluster of beetles, but she already heard the horrible sound of more beetles approaching her other flank.
"I'll cover you." Azrael placed himself at Mizuki's exposed flank, knelt, and slammed his left fist onto the ground. A rolling wave of blue-black mana surged across the ground and melted the entire flanking group, and Azrael's mini-fireballs blew away another handful.
"Watch out!" This time, Mizuki covered Azrael's flank, and her mana helix blasted apart an ambush squad of beetles. But as soon as she turned around, another huge wave of them approached, and the walking hive was generating them much faster than before.
Then another walking hive emerged from over a hill, thousands more beetles thronging around it.
And to Mizuki's astonishment, the new hive opened its many mouths and started spitting out beetles like grotesque arrows.
Azrael whirled around and swung his fist, enchanted with blue-black mana. His knuckles intercepted an airborne beetle, then another and another. He released a frenzy of precise blows to block the launched beetles, his red hair and blue cape whirling through the air. But it was only a distraction; now, dozens of beetles on the ground swarmed up his legs and up his chest, latching on with their spindly legs and claws.
"Azrael! Hang on!" Mizuki turned and slashed her Fiora sword through the air, releasing a wave of white mana that split into countless cords. Many of the thin cords wrapped around the beetles and tore them off of Azrael, but more kept crawling onto him.
Then Mizuki felt sharp claws dig into her legs, and she shrieked din terror as beetles swarmed up her legs and chest, weighing her down. She collapsed, curling into the fetal position as the bugs enveloped her in a mound of carapace bodies and clicking pincers.
No... no!
A pulse of blue-white mana swept through her.
The beetles screeched and were flung aside, and Mizuki barely scrambled to her feet. Azrael, too, was clear and looking for the source of the new spell. Then Mizuki spotted a group of armored humans and vedalken standing atop a hill, all of them holding their arms wide, the blue-white aura radiating from their hands.
"Azrael! Hurry!" Mizuki seized Azrael's hand and sprinted toward the rescuers, and behind her, she heard the beetles and walking hives rushing forth to recapture them. However, another pulse of blue-white mana surged across the chrome hills, and when Mizuki dared a glance over her shoulder, she saw the beetles and hives falling back, struggling against the mana waves.
The newcomers motioned, and Mizuki and Azrael followed them down the hill and toward a cluster of boulders.
"In here," one of the rescuers said, a man with silver and chrome plates adorning his skin at random. He wore a helmet with lenses and microscopes in place of a visor, and he had odd tools on his belt. He pointed.
Mizuki saw a trapdoor rising from the ground, one that had blended perfectly into the ground a second earlier. A rusty, slightly vibrating platform waited in a small chamber below.
Without hesitation, Mizuki joined the rescuers in the chamber with Azrael, and once the trapdoor sealed above them, small white lights came alive on the walls and the platform lowered itself. Ten feet, twenty, fifty feet it descended until it halted in a massive underground cavern, one lit by massive crystal formations on the walls and ceiling.
Mizuki stared in awe as she stepped off the platform with Azrael. "It's... a whole town!" she breathed. "So many people down here..."
Azrael bowed his head. "Thank you for your assistance. I am Azrael, and this is my companion Mizuki. May I ask who you are?"
The rescuers broke out into weary grins and chuckles. "Who are we?" the man with the high-tech helmet said. "We're the Mirran partisans. The last hope for restoring our lost world."