"-is an Axios priority hail! Marigold has betrayed the Empire and declared independence! I have railed the few loyalist forces remaining, but I require immediate reinforcements! Traitorous forces have seized the orbital defense grid and I-"
-Transmission from Hayden Lemat, genetic primogenitor of the Revenants
The stars in the Demon Realm were beautiful. Sometimes, Luz would just rest atop the roof of the Owl House, gazing up at the sky. Tonight, Amity had joined her. The two lounged in silence, watching flashes of color in the night sky.
"Hey, Amity." The purple-haired girl looked over as Luz continued to stare upward.
"What is it?"
"You ever wonder what's up there?"
The Witch shrugged. Astronomy in the Demon Realm wasn't a fully-fledged scientific field. Some pursued it as a hobby, but the occupants of the Demon Realm lacked the understanding of the Universe that their Human counterparts possessed.
"Why do you ask?"
"It's just…" Luz began, "For the longest time, Humans have been wondering if we were alone in the Universe. Now, I guess that question has been answered. So, is there anyone else out there?"
Amity giggled, "If there is anyone else, I'm sure they'd love to meet you."
"Yeah. I want to meet them too."
Void battles were never a straightforward thing. Being a three-dimensional area, space allowed for complex maneuvers and elaborate strategies. Whatmore, the distances between ships required pinpoint accuracy and insane prediction. Fortunately, the Empire's ships each came with Assimilated Intelligence Units capable of making the split-second calculations needed.
The Last Flight Home rumbled as her hardlight cannons fired, sending blinding white streaks into the void. A half-second passed and the gun crew received confirmation of a hit. The Hierarchy vessels' Kinetic Dampeners were beginning to wane, flickering wildly as they struggled to protect their ship. A burning orange lance cleaved its way across the port side of the Last Flight Home. Their shields took most of the damage, but the ship rattled from the impact.
The Imperial void craft wasn't currently rated for combat. They had just fled from another warzone against the loathsome traitors and their demonic forces in hopes of reaching a nearby shipyard to repair and resupply. Instead, they arrived just in time to watch the planet be seared by orbital bombardment. The Captain did not doubt that everyone on the planet had been burned to a crisp. He had seen this too many times to keep up hope.
"Protective barriers have dropped below forty percent!" An Ensign shouted, his eyes darting over his display. The man's fingers danced across his controls. Captain Blitz acknowledged his words with a slight narrowing of his eyes.
"More enemy contacts closing in," another Ensign said. "Two frigates and a destroyer." Four heavily armed Hierarchy ships against one Imperial craft that was limping to a dock. There wasn't a single Captain who didn't understand those odds. They weren't inconceivable, they were impossible. Yet Captain Blitz knew his men wouldn't panic. They were Revenants. They were trained for this. They were bred for this.
For a moment, Captain Blitz considered letting the ship's main gun fire, but he immediately discarded the idea almost instantly. Dragon Pattern Railcannons, more commonly known as Worldbreakers, were powerful, but they were primarily effective against unshielded targets. To ensure a kill, he would need to drop the enemy's shields fully. And even if he could destroy one ship, he didn't have enough time to destroy the other three closing in on him. Yet, the idea of dragging at least one ship filled with those hook-mouthed scum screaming into oblivion with him was enticing.
"Current projections?" Captain Blitz asked. Beside him, a holographic Human was frantically flicking through warnings and firing solutions. The Assimilated Intelligence glanced at him and began running the calculations. Assimilated Intelligences were among the most useful tools at the Empire's disposal. Due to the outlawing of Artificial Intelligence in a rare display of foresight by Imperial bureaucracy, the techs had been forced to find a workaround. So, find one they did. By uploading and overlaying Human minds atop each other, they could produce a digital consciousness capable of surpassing even the greatest supercomputer. The unit assigned to his ship was known as Kilter. The men called her Kilt.
"Current chances of survival are less than three percent," she said, pushing her holographic glasses. "And they're dropping fast." Blitz nodded as he process the information. A few of his men glanced at him, wanting to know what was going on in his head. It pained Blitz to admit that he couldn't take this fight. To know that he had to concede to these aliens. It felt like admitting they had some minor superiority over him. And something like that would not stand. His pride and his loyalty would not allow it.
However, his duty to the Emperor and his brothers was louder. He had a responsibility to keep these men alive so they may exact a toll of blood upon the enemies of the Emperor. So, he came to a conclusion.
"Adjust heading to these coordinates," he instructed, typing a few numbers into the console. "And prepare to activate Distortion Drive." The rest of the crew got to work, transmitting orders all over the ship.
"You're going to run?" Kilt asked, tilting her head. Blitz grimaced at the gesture. She would follow his orders if he pressed it, but since she technically existed outside the chain of command, she would back-talk him if she thought he was in the wrong.
"I am."
"Good," she nodded. "I've run the numbers. This is the only logical course of action."
"I agree." Blitz's eyes quickly flitted back to the display in front of him, drinking in all the information he could. The other Hierarchy vessels' had joined their comrade and were approaching his ship. Now that they had a numerical advantage, they felt confident closing the gap. Imperial weapons hit harder than Hierarchy ones, but couldn't be fired as quickly. He noticed that their ships were spreading out, moving to encircle him. In this position, he couldn't even pray for a lucky shot to hit their reactors and take them all out in a miniature supernova. And when the Hierarchy was involved, supernova was not an exaggeration. Whoever was commanding this battlegroup knew what they were doing.
"I'm sure you do," Kilt said, swiping through her display. She sent a warning to Blitz, letting him know that they were about to be fired upon. If they got hit, their shields would collapse, leaving them as easy prey.
"You would come to the same conclusion," she continued. "Just much slower."
"Fire starboard thrusters in two-point-three seconds."
"Acknowledged." The thrusters fired, releasing controlled bursts of high-pressure air that sent Last Flight Home dashing through the void. Orange beams of Phaeton pierced the empty space several hundred kilometers away. It would have been a kill shot if he hadn't dodged it. However, his thrusters needed time to recharge and only two of the ships had fired. They had baited out his dodge and the other two ships were readjusting their aim.
"Distortion drive is charged and ready for activation. What are your coordinates?"
"Implement randomized coordinates."
Kilt flickered slightly in concern. Inputting random coordinates was only to be done in the most dire circumstances. Most Imperial officers were too bloodthirsty to use it anyways, preferring to go down swinging. Blitz viewed these men and women as fools who were so caught up in personal glory that they had forgotten their oaths of service to the Emperor.
The ship groaned as the Distortion Drive activated. The massive burners on the back of the ship began to light up. The vacuum around the ship began to ripple as Imperial science tore at it. An Ensign powered down their shields and activated the Dispersion Field. They couldn't manage both at once and Blitz would rather chance being destroyed by enemy fire than guarantee being shredded to atoms. The Distortion Drive activated, tearing at the fabric of reality itself. The space behind the ship was stretched while the space in front of them was compressed. It was a method of FTL that violated all known laws of physics. Blitz wasn't smart enough to understand how it worked. The last time he had asked the ship's chief engineer, they had simply shrugged and said that physics was incomplete.
Last Flight Home screamed to life, tearing forward as the remaining two Hierarchy ships opened fire. Beams that glowed like the sunrise tore deep gouges in the hull of the ship. Warning labels flashed around Blitz as he narrowed his eyes. A glancing blow struck the rear exhaust, causing it to explode. The entire ship rumbled and Blitz tightly gripped his armrest.
"Hold it together girl," he muttered. "Just get us a little further."
It wasn't meant to be, however, as the Distortion Drive rattled from the blow. It was knocked out of alignment, opening a massive tear in space-time. The Last Flight Home was dragged through, their Dispersion Field barely holding. The remaining Hierarchy vessels' were dragged in after them. The first three were atomized the instant they crossed the event horizon. The fourth, the destroyer, barely managed to power on their own Dispersion Field. The two ships fell through unreality, not daring to fire upon each other lest they further destabilize an already unstable situation.
Eventually, the Hierarchy ship faded from their sensors. They were alone now, falling upward through an impossible space. Blitz felt his mind begin to tear as he gazed at the irrationality all around them. He closed his eyes and felt the ship scream in pain.
"Mighty Emperor," he began to pray. "Lord and protector of all Mankind. Please shield your loyal sons in our time of need. Deliver us from this evil so that we might slay your foes."
He cautiously opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. He saw flashes of crimson and black and flesh and pain. Insanity coiled around the vessel, laughing at him, trying to drag him into its embrace. He saw the conception of the Universe and its end. A pair of eyes, red as blood, stared at him from the swirling madness. A voice began to whisper in his mind.
"Your god cannot hear you."
Blitz clenched his armrest as Kilt yelled at him, trying to get his attention.
"He does not love you."
Visions of the great betrayal flashed through his mind.
"He does not even know you exist."
Blitz saw his own conception, being brought out of his gestation capsule.
"But I love you all."
He felt warmth, a thing that spread through his bones. His grip began to slacken as he listened to the voice. He had heard it before. Everyone who had fought the traitors had heard them. He knew he had to drown it out. The Emperor loved him. He wept for the loss of every Human life. Even in his deathless slumber, he was watching over them all. As soon as those reassurances passed through his mind, the warmth in his bones changed to a blazing heat. His body, mind, and soul were on fire.
It ended without warning. Blitz slumped in his chair as the ship fell still. All around him, the crew was staggered. One Ensign, a man named Hitch, stumbled over to him.
"Sir, are you alright?"
"I will be fine," Blitz said, letting his appreciation show in his voice. Most soldiers, hell, most Revenants wouldn't be able to bounce back from that so quickly. But his men were the best, personally chosen by his hand.
Hell. What an accurate word he had chosen. Only the foolish or the insane dared to even skim the surface of the Otherworld, that chaotic nightmare realm between planes. And his ship had been dunked in headfirst.
"Kilter, I want a damage assessment immediately," he said, slowly standing up. "Find out how much damage we took from enemy fire." He paused for a second. "How long were we in there?"
"Time cannot be calculated in the Otherworld," Kilt said. "But, if I were to hazard a guess, I'd say less than a second in real-time. Otherwise, we wouldn't have managed to come back out." Blitz let out a sigh of relief.
"Any signs of corruption among the men?" The Revenants were famed for their loyalty, among other traits, but even they were susceptible to corruption. And his men had just taken a running leap into hell.
"No Otherworld corruption detected." Now that was a surprise. He was no expert in the Otherworld, but he had fought enough times to know that anything it touched usually needed to be destroyed in its entirety.
"Any signs of the Hierarchy ship?"
"Our long-range sensors are damaged from exposure to… that," Kilt said. "So I can't guarantee anything. But Hierarchy tech is a few steps more advanced than ours. If we survived then there's no reason to think they didn't." Blitz frowned. Another problem to be dealt with later.
"Last question, then I'll let you get on with repairs." He stood up, looking out the viewing glass on the bridge. Before him was a planet of average size. Its oceans were a pale blue, unlike the shimmering sapphire waters of most Imperial worlds. The ground was covered in dull red, likely indicating red-colored flora. The most curious thing was the land itself. There were several continents scattered across the waters in the shape of massive Humanoid figures. A zoomed-in projection appeared before him, allowing him to observe its skeletal details more readily.
"Where in the Emperor's name are we?"
"To be honest sir, I don't think his eminence has anything to do with this."
Blitz stroked his chin, feeling the stubble that was growing there. He needed to shave, but he hadn't had an opportunity for a while.
"Can you scan the planet?"
"One step ahead of you pal," she said casually. A glance from Blitz reminded her of the current situation. "Sorry. One step ahead of you, sir. Reconstructing from sonar and chemical scans now." He nodded and gestured in front of him. Kilt obliged, tossing a holo-map in front of him. Despite the name, the Empire didn't use holograms. Rather, it was a hardlight construct projected over a series of three-dimensional vectors. His eyes traced over the map. The details were fuzzy and obscured, like the result of damaged scanning equipment. His eyebrow rose as he saw the outlines of buildings, though they didn't match Imperial architecture. Or any architectural style he was familiar with for that matter. It all seemed rustic and he would've written it off as a backwater colony world were it not for the fact that everything looked like it was built out of bone and brick.
"What do you know of the inhabitants?"
"Nothing," Kilt said, flicking through her displays. "Bioscanner got fried something nasty. I've sent a message to Engineer Micaer. Hopefully, he'll be able to take a look."
"Send a message to Sergeant Riley while you're at it," Blitz said. "Tell him that I want to see his squad as soon as possible."
"Done. By the way, one of your retinue is on his way." As she said that, the door to the bridge opened. Blitz turned to face the man that stepped through. Every officer in the Empire had a retinue, specialized subordinates that stuck by them. They ranged from Lieutenants to Logisticians to Champions. The man that walked up beside him was considerably more rare than any of these.
Martyr Jaco was a gaunt man. He was as tall as any other Revenant, but considerably more thin. He had been trained just as hard as his brothers. Harder, in fact. However, most of his training had been mental as opposed to physical. He held a staff in his left hand, a sign of his station. It was adorned with the symbol of the Empire at the top; a circle cut in two halves, one being a skull and the other being a net of map lines. His body was covered in robes that contrasted against Blitz's armor, though they bore the same colors of emerald green with smoke-grey accents. Most striking of all was the man's eyes. Most Revenants shared the same hazel-colored eyes. Jaco's were a striking grey. An uninformed man would say that they seemed to glow.
Blitz knew that they did.
Jaco was an Aetherborn, a rare and dangerous molder of reality. The power of the cosmos was woven into his flesh, granting him strength and longevity. However, it also made him unstable and erratic. He had another special power, one almost certainly unique to him. He could alter the density of any gaseous matter, allowing him to harden it in a sense.
"You heard the forgotten one speak."
Jaco's voice was a whisper. The man's mind was hardly stable at the best of times. If Blitz had faced such raw exposure to the Otherworld, he didn't dare to imagine what Jaco had experienced. Blitz nodded in confirmation and Jaco shuddered.
"The touch of the Otherworld seeps into this planet," he said. "We have drawn the gaze of a baleful god."
Blitz didn't respond, instead turning back to the planet before him. Not for the first time in the last few months, he questioned where his choices were leading his men. If his decisions lead to his own death, then he would accept that. But putting his brothers in jeopardy when it was needless did not sit well with him.
"Get yourself some rest," he ordered. "I have a feeling I'm going to need you soon." Jaco nodded as the door opened once again. Six men stepped through, clad in armor similar to Blitz's. Each man had a different pattern on their armor, painted in the dark grey of the Revenants. Their shoulder pads were bronze, marking themselves as veteran troopers, as opposed to Blitz's gold which marked him as an officer. One of them had a white stripe on his helmet. The stripe of a sergeant.
"Sir," Sergeant Riley said, standing at attention, "You sent for us." Blitz looked over the squad. He knew each of these men by name; Riley, Backfire, Redeye, Ringo, Vinda, Singe. They were his best soldiers, the iron heart of his men. Once, there had been ten of them. But Coll, Axel, Hatch, and Ticker had all laid down their lives fighting against the traitor scourge. They rested with the Emperor now.
"As you can see, we find ourselves facing an uncharted planet," Blitz said, gesturing to the window. "Initial scans show signs of life, but we cannot verify to what extent. I want you on the ground to investigate the situation."
"Wouldn't this be more suited to a Ranger squad, sir?" Redeye asked. As a former Ranger himself, he was well acquainted with the specialties of the Empire's scouts. His calm pragmatism served as a nice counter to the rest of his squad.
"We're operating with too many unknowns. I need men I can trust unconditionally. I know that you'll be able to meet whatever challenge you come across. And you won't be down there for long, so pack light."
"What do you want us to do if we encounter any lifeforms down there, sir?" Backfire spoke up next. Blitz could picture his trigger finger twitching. Backfire was a devout, pious man who never passed up an opportunity to fill an alien with hardlight bolts.
"Investigate. Document. Report. But do not engage. Not until we've determined the location of the Hierarchy forces that followed us or the nature of what we find down there." Backfire straightened his spine and nodded. Blitz knew he would follow his orders, no matter how much they may chafe him.
"You have your orders," Blitz said. "Kilt, send a message to Flak and tell him to warm his engines. You'll be down there for one week. The Evac point will be the same as the drop point."
"Sir." Riley snapped a salute and the rest of his men followed suit. Blitz returned the gesture. The veterans filed out, leaving Blitz to once again face the strange planet before him.
"My Emperor, why have you sent us here?"
Fleet Lord Wajek passed over the damage report his subordinates had sent in. His fingers tapped a few buttons, the coarse pitch-black skin of his fingers aching from exposure to the Otherworld. The gambit from the Harrow Ship Lord was bold. Back at the academy, had anyone presented such a maneuver to him as a theoretical, Wajek would have commended their ingenuity but criticized them for putting their crew in harm's way. But to see something like it in the field. Intentionally flying between enemy ships, taking what should have been a lethal shot, and dragging three ships into the Otherworld where the souls of the crew would be tormented for eons to come. It was only thanks to Wajeks' quick thinking that his ship had survived relatively unharmed.
Such was Harrow's ingenuity. Those Imperials had always proved to be a difficult foe, constantly slipping away from what should be a killing blow. It appeared that Heval technology wasn't the only thing that had stagnated, his tactics would need to be improved.
He clicked his mandibles as the sensors on his bridge powered back on. He could see the entire system from where he was. The Imperial ship floated near one of the smaller planets, still bleeding from its earlier wounds.
"My lord," one of his aides said, bowing to him and clicking his mandibles twice. Wajek didn't turn to acknowledge him but signaled for him to continue with a wave of his hand.
"Strikers are ready for deployment," he reported. "Our pilots hunger for Harrow blood."
Wajek smirked slightly. His Strikers would cut that Harrow ship open and spill its crew across the void. The other members on the bridge turned away from their duties to watch their Fleet Lord.
"Tell them to deploy," he said, still not turning to look at his aide. "I promise great honor upon the family of the first pilot to score a kill. We are Heval! As certain as the sunrise!" The rest of his bridge erupted in cheers, with cries praising the Maxim echoing throughout the bridge.
Sergeant Riley lead his squad into the hangar where their transport would be waiting for them. His men marched in lockstep behind him. Each of them had grabbed their preferred weapons. As veterans, they had access to their pick of the Empire's armory. Riley's squad was equipped to face a variety of situations. Flexibility and adaptability were among the Empire's strongest assets. Each squad may have a specialization, but when they all fought together, they were nearly unstoppable.
Riley marched further into the hangar bay. It was dimly lit, due to the ship's engines still being damaged. However, a few bays were lit up. An engineer pushed past Riley. The man, if it could even still be called that, was a towering mass of metal plates and glowing optics. Additional servo-arms sprouted from his back, each equipped for a different task.
Down at docking bay thirteen, Flak was waiting for them. Riley had never met the pilot personally, but he had heard about his exploits. As an infantry trooper, he rarely paid attention to the airborne save for when it concerned his operations. Riley stopped behind the pilot as he conversed with another engineer, though this one had far fewer augmentations than the other he had just seen.
Eventually, Flak finished talking with the engineer and turned to face Riley. He snapped a quick salute, placing his right hand over his heart with the palm facing toward the ceiling. Riley mirrored the salute before dropping it. Flak followed suit.
"Captain Blitz sent me the details of your mission," he said. "Unfortunately, We don't have any Gryphons available. They're all either in for repairs or shot down back on Calixis." Riley heard Redeye curse under his breath. Gryphon dropships were many troopers' preferred method of making planetfall. The bulky transports offered a good mixture of protection and speed. And the best part was that they could lower close enough to the ground for their crew to disembark by simply jumping out. If there weren't any Gryphons available, then that meant they would have to use something decidedly less comfortable.
"The good news for us is that we still have a functional Stymphali with enough reentry pods to serve our needs." Redeyes fears were confirmed. Stymphali were heavy aerial transports, used for getting heavier vehicles onto the ground. They could also be retrofitted to carry orbital reentry pods. These pods could shield five men as they plummeted through the atmosphere. Their lack of armor, shields, or weapons had led to many calling them 'The Coffins'."
"If that's all we have, then it will have to do. Everyone, find your seats and get set for a low-atmo insertion drop." The rest of the men moved with minimal noise or no noise in Singe's case. Redeye strapped himself into the pod with an uneasy glance at his sergeant.
"Are you sure this is wise? I'd rather not end up a stain on the ground."
"What's the matter Redeye?" Ringo asked, a sly grin on his face. "Afraid of a little fall?"
"It's not the fall that bothers me, it's the quick stop at the end."
"Settle down," Riley ordered as he set his safety restraints in case. Despite his words, he had doubts of his own. Safety measures in the Empire tended to be more of a formality as opposed to something one could actually rely on. Backfire strapped himself into a separate pod, content to make the drop alone. Their drop pods were pulled up into the ship and Flak's voice came over the intercom.
"Attention brothers, this is your pilot speaking. We'll be going for a nice, leisurely cruise at low atmosphere today. Enjoy scenic mountain views and gorgeous valley vistas. And should your pods fail, simply put your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye."
"I'll never understand how people can just go dropping out of perfectly good aircraft," Redeye grumbled. The radio sparked to life once again as Flak's voice returned.
"Generally, I find it preferable to dropping from one that's currently on fire." Those words did little to assuage Redeye's discomfort. However, he wasn't given a chance to speak up as the ship began to rumble. The engines began to spark as the aircraft was lifted into the launch bay. The Stymphali was placed atop a set of rails. The engines roared as its antimatter reactor surged to life. The vessel lurched forward and shot out into the void. Riley felt his stomach rise before settling as the familiar sensation of gravity leaving settled over him. He checked the biometrics of his squadmates. They all seemed fine, though Redeye's heart rate was higher than he liked. It was only to be expected; as a former Ranger, he was used to more or less sitting in one place for hours or even days on end.
"We have reached cruising speed," Flak said over the radio. "Please ensure that all your guns are properly secured and that your explosives are disarmed. I'm talking to you, Ringo." The man chuckled as Vinda shot a quick verbal jab at him. Riley half-listened, monitoring his display closely. He heard an apprehensive sound from Flak and sent a ping his way.
"Ships picking up something coming at us, fast," he said. "Three contacts. Too organized to be asteroids."
"Hierarchy?" Backfire asked, his voice heavily tinged with static.
"That's what I'm thinking," Flak said. The ship swerved without warning, causing Redeye to let out a curse. "I'm setting the ship to auto-pilot while I man the guns."
"Shouldn't you have a crew for that?" Riley asked.
"Rest of the aircrew is either in Suspension or the medical bay. I'm all you got." Something hit the hull of the ship, causing its shields to flicker and the ship to shake. "Crap. Three Strikers, standard attack formation. Transmitting a warning to the Last Flight Home. Maybe they can give us some cover fire, but I wouldn't cross my fingers for any help."
The ship rattled again, causing the drop pods to waver slightly in their holsters. Redeye was frantically muttering a prayer to the Emperor under his breath. Backfire had joined in, though his tempo was far more measured. Riley could feel the guns fire, hardlight bolts cutting through the vacuum.
"Got you! One bogey slashed!" Flak shouted. His celebration was cut off when another volley cut into the ship. Riley heard an explosion that was soon followed by a string of expletives from Flak. The pod began to rattle erratically as the ship spun. "They hit the starboard thruster! I'm gonna need to get this bird under control and take her in manually!"
Their trajectory straightened out as Flak seized the controls. He brought them closer to the planet and quickly shouted a warning as they broke the atmosphere. The men all held on tightly as the ship bounced through the air. The Hierarchy Strikers were still right on their tail, firing Phaeton beams that narrowly missed the Stymphali. The lead Striker switched up its strategy, alternating from its Phaeton Cannons to a Flare Launcher. After waiting for a second to acquire a target lock, the pilot fired. Glowing orange missiles soared into the ship, causing another explosion to rock the ship.
"And there goes the port thruster," Flak groaned, struggling with the controls. "We're coming up on a land mass. I'll drop you once we're over it."
"What about you?" Riley asked.
"I'll be fine," Flak said through gritted teeth. "I survived Calixis, Sternhal, and the Bleak Stars. I don't intend to die here." Riley gripped his restraints tightly, unable to argue with his pilot. Flak continued trying to dodge Hierarchy fire, only for another volley of flares to score a hit on the ship.
"Prepare to drop!"
Riley took in a deep breath. He could hear a few mechanisms above him clicking into place. The locks finished moving and, suddenly, there was a feeling of weightlessness. Riley's pod plummeted through the air, engaging its metallic parachute and thrusters to slow its descent.
"My pod's stuck!" Backfire shouted. Flak cursed again.
"We're losing altitude! Hold on to something!" Riley couldn't see the ship go down, all he could do was hold on and pray. His pod slammed into the ground at an awkward angle, kicking up a massive trail of dirt and stone. Then, everything went dark.
Luz continued to look up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle brightly. Her girlfriend had fallen asleep not long ago and was now resting peacefully at Luz's side. She lounged in silence, content to watch the heavens.
A flash of light caught her eye. An orange streak far above her. Luz's eyes widened at the sudden burst of color. It was beautiful. Another flash reached her, this time white. Reaching over, she gently shook Amity awake. While the Witch rubbed her eyes, Luz pointed to the sky. Amity looked up just in time to see another, larger orange flash cut across the night sky.
"What is that?" She asked. Luz shrugged as she continued to watch.
"I was kinda hoping you could tell me. I think it might be a shooting star."
"I don't think so, I've never seen anything like that before." Amity squinted her eyes. "What's that?" She pointed to something in the sky and Luz turned to watch. Something was getting closer. A ship. Beams of orange light cut across it, gouging the ship. It took Luz a second to see the other ships. Their sleek, black forms made them difficult to see. The ship being attacked let out one final explosion before careening off to the side, finally having sustained too much damage. It disappeared behind the tree line and the ground was rocked by the impact of it hitting the ground. The two dark vessels turned upward, leaving glowing orange trails in their wake.
"What was that?" Amity asked with panic written on her face.
"I don't know," Luz said. "But someone could be hurt. We need to help them." The two summoned their Palismen and hopped on, taking off toward the rising column of smoke stretching into the air.
Warrior Velik steered his Striker through the air, cutting through the cloudless sky with ease. His surviving wingman, a Squire name Gelan, stuck to him closely. The two watched the Harrow vessel go down.
"A glorious kill," Gelan said over the radio, accentuating his words with a click of his mandibles.
"Not yet it isn't," Velik scowled. "Not until we have watched their blood flow across the ground with our own eyes. We're going in to investigate personally."
The two Strikers circled around, flying toward the downed Stymphali.
Luz and Amity touched down near the smoking wreckage. Smoke choked the air as they drew closer, burning their eyes and forcing them down. There wasn't anyone else nearby at this time of night. Eda was across town with Raine and King was with Lilith at the Knee on a historical expedition. Even if others had heard the crash, they wouldn't be here in time to help.
Eventually, the two drew closer to the downed ship. It was unlike anything either of them had ever seen. The ship was coated in emerald-green and smoke-grey paint that was starting to peel away from both the enemy barrage and its crash landing. A large gun sat on the spine of the ship, little more than a mangled mess now. One wing had been torn off as the ship rested on its side.
Luz located a door and gingerly touched it. After revealing that it wasn't too hot, she grabbed the handle and pulled to no avail. Planting a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, Amity pulled her back and summoned an abomination. To golem seized the door and, with some severe exertion, tore it open. Amity and Luz slowly crawled in.
"Hello, is anyone here?" Luz called out. The lights in the ship flickered, casting an eerie light across the interior. Small fires dotted the inside, with some exposed wires still sparking. Luz pushed through the ship and a faint groaning reached her ears.
"I hear someone!" She made her way into the cockpit as quickly as she could. There, slumped over in one of the seats, was a man wearing armor a similar color to the ship. Blood was leaking from his head and gut, coating his dark skin in a sick crimson. Luz felt her breath hitch as the copper smell hit her. This man was dying. Amity moved in beside her only to gag and cover her mouth in revulsion.
"He's bleeding!" Luz panicked, moving to get the man out of his seat. It was then that she noticed his size. The man was massive. Luz herself was of fairly average height, Amity being a little taller. This man was a giant, easily over eight feet tall and with the physique to match.
"He's too heavy to carry," Amity said, summoning another abomination. It delicately wrapped its hands under the man and lifted him up. The two cautiously made their way out of the ship as the man groaned in pain. Once they were clear, Amity's abomination lowered him to the ground. He coughed up blood, his eyes staring listlessly into the distance.
"Who… Where…" He was cut off by another hacking cough, spitting out blood.
"What is he saying?" Luz asked. Amity shrugged, the man was speaking in a language neither of them could understand. "Is he… Human?"
"We need a healer," Amity said. "Nothing I know can help with… this. I wish Emira was here."
Before the two could decide what to do next, the dark ships from before sailed overhead. As they settled on the ground before them, Luz was able to get a better look at them. They were hard, angular constructs made of sharp, geometric edges. They were sleek, looking like an arrowhead. The back of the ship curled around into two points, revealing some kind of advanced weapon. Glowing orange lights could be seen along the ship, fading as they powered down. The front of each ship slid open, hissing as they depressurized. Two figures lept out of their craft, wearing armor in the same style as their ships. One towered over the two girls, likely even taller than the wounded pilot. The other was considerably shorter, maybe only a few inches taller than the girls.
The tall one rested a hand on a lengthy pole attached to their waist. A matching one hung from the other side. A few striking features jumped out at Luz, namely their four-fingered hands and digitigrade legs. They said something to their companion in another indecipherable language, their words interspersed with clicks and other strange noises. The shorter one nodded and pulled a strange-looking rifle off their back. The weapon glowed with the light of stars. Amity acted quickly, summoning an abomination. The shorter creature stepped back before opening fire on the abomination. Balls of burning orange energy sprayed the abomination, causing the goo to burst whenever it made contact. The abomination groaned as it lumbered forward. Amity's control and skill must have surprised the creature, as it was unprepared for the golem's backhand. The creature let out a panicked cry as it was sent into a tree. Its taller companion watched dispassionately before turning to face Amity. Her abomination lumbered closer. The creature didn't seem to care.
The abomination reached up as it prepared to crush them. The creature's hands smoothly slipped onto the devices hanging from its waist. It pulled them off and activated them. Glowing orange blades began to glow and the creature cleaved the abomination's arms off. The golem staggered and the creature was quick to capitalize. Its blades spun through the air, cutting the abomination to pieces in a series of rapid yet fluid movements. It said something else that the two couldn't understand. It powered down one of its blades and tossed it forward. The weapon clattered to the ground before Amity's feet.
Amity glanced down at the weapon curiously before looking at Luz, who could only offer a shrug. The creature gestured to the weapon and repeated itself, sounding more insistent this time.
"I think it wants you to pick it up," Luz said.
"I don't know how to use a sword!"
"I don't think we have much of a choice." Amity grimaced before reaching down to grab the weapon, not breaking eye contact with the creature. It stared at her through its helmet, the unblinking optics seeming to bore through her soul. She fumbled the weapon for a second while the creature continued to watch. Eventually, her finger slipped over the activation trigger and the blade sprung to life. The creature nodded and gave an approving click. It crossed its blade over its chest, a gesture Amity didn't feel comfortable returning. Then, without warning, it lunged forward. Amity was only barely able to lift her own sword in time to catch the strike. She buckled under the attack, stumbling backward from the strength of the creature. It waited for her to regain her footing, spinning its blade around tauntingly. Luz stepped forward, only for the creature to pull a gun off its thigh and plant a shot between her feet in one fluid motion. The implication was clear; do not interfere.
The creature stepped forward again, swinging lazily at Amity's head. She deflected the strike, only to get whacked on the side of the head by the creature's gun. She let out a grunt of pain and stabbed at the creature. It spread its arms and let the blade glide off its chest plate. A protective barrier flickered to life. It let out a mocking laugh before delivering a swift knee to Amity's chest. She keeled over, coughing in pain. The creature raised its blade high, preparing to plunge downward. Its gun pointed at Luz as she cried out. The creature let out a prideful shout as its blade began to descend.
There was a cracking sound and a flash of light as a white beam punched through the helmet of the creature. Its shields burst in a shower of flashing lights. The bolt of hardlight soared out of the back of the creature's skull. Blood, brains, and skull fragments erupted from the creature's head and it dropped, dead before it could even hit the ground. Amity and Luz both whipped around, staring at the forgotten pilot as he clutched a bulky pistol in a weak hand.
"Death… to his… foes…" The man's voice came out as a pained whisper. His hand slumped and he let out one, final gasp. His head fell and life faded from his eyes. Luz quickly knelt beside him and placed a hand on his neck, trying to feel for a pulse beneath his body suit. Eventually, she looked up and shook her head. She didn't know how to feel, adrenaline still pumping through her body. A glint of fire reflecting off of something shiny drew her eye to his neck. She reached down his chest plate and pulled out a necklace with a metal chip on it. The chip was covered in writing, oddly enough, in English.
"ISN-1114-53-8019," she recited. "Flak."
"What does that mean?" Amity questioned.
"I don't know, but we need to tell someone as soon as we can. This whole place is giving me a bad feeling."
If you made it this far, then thanks for checking this story out. This worldbuilding project of mine, Project Eternal, is something I've been working on for years now. It's a lot to get into. If you have questions about anything, feel free to ask me and I can clarify it.
I don't know how rapid updates will be for this story. I'll likely still be focusing on Witches and Warlocks, seeing as we're in the home stretch for that story. Truth be told, I don't have a plan for this, save for some vague ideas and plot points I want to hit. Until next time.
