A/N: Who boy, this one took far longer than I expected. I knew college would slow things, but the AAA executives decided to frontload the later half with big releases. Balder's Gate, Starefield, and Nintendo releasing a crap ton of Mario. I'll try to stay on track, but I can't make promises about my update schedule. I hope you enjoy!
The lower decks of Mrs Windimere's ship were nothing like Rhodes, which was practically a hotel on wheels. One hallway runs down the ship aft from stern, while doors on the sides branch out into other rooms. It felt more like a submarine than a warship. Thankfully, space wasn't an issue. The brassy pipe walls gave Gavial, Zumama, Avdotya, and myself enough room to act as bystanders to the carnage.
Yeah, it was just as bad in the inside.
Blown piping was flooding the entire hallway with water. It only got up to our toes, but our combat boots prevented most of the burns. Becides Avdotya, who was really regretting flying into a warzone with her designer sandals. Yeah yeah, but seriously, the water was running red from all the injured men. It was same shit from the landship's top deck, but now I had a frontrow seat. Goddamnit...
Then, further up the hallway, I saw what appeared to be a biker gang of Felines confronting an officer. We weren't the only weirdos aboard.
"It's not right. Can you not provide spare supplies for the civilians?"
I knew her from Rhodes Island. Knew, as in, only caught a few glimpses of her from time to time, but I could recognize those lion ears and from anywhere. Siege was her codename, and up to this point, I thought she and her friends were a bunch of street cats Rhodes picked up. Wouldn't be the first Ms Kal'tsit adopted.
The guy they were talking about was a tan haired Feline in raggedy clothing, fallen belly first into the flooded floor. He was covered head to toe with burns and blisters. Why couldn't he stand? I got closer. Siege started yelling accusations at the officer. Don't know what exactly, because things got fuzzy when I looked at the Feline's legs...
Sullivan? Speak to me!
*Cough* Never better, captain.
How are your vitals?
Well, my head's still attached. I can feel my fingers and arms.
Noted. Thank the Lord that the IED didn't blow your legs clean off, Sullivan.
Yeah...
Sullivan?
I... can't... stand...
Dammit! Combat medic, stat! Jake Sullivan is blacking out...
"Sully!"
Avdotya slapped my cheek. Her breaths were deep. She didn't say anything further, and after staring at me for a bit, she slowly turned to face the others. Zumama was welding some of the pipes back together, and Gavial had heaved the crippled man on her back. Siege and the Victorian settled their fight.
Their focus was all on me, as if I was screaming bloody murder. Whatever they saw while i was off in the Venezuelan underbrush, wasn't pretty.
Lets make this clear, there is no way in hell that I can sit this operation out. Not when I'm the only one who knows how They fight, and not when Siege is holding the sword...
"The Sigh of Kings can only be welding by descendants of the Aslan King."
I- was already reaching out for it. Indra, the one I typically see with Siege, slipped infront of her queen and raised her brass knuckles. Siege whispered something in her ear, and Indra stood down. The rest of her gang, a lil midgit and one with a tacky leopard jacket and leg warmers, observed from the sidelines.
Kal'tsit was right behind me. It didn't matter that she was in a wheelchair, she just popped out of nowhere like an actual cat.
"Shit!" I jumped up. It was much worse than those caverns leading to the Durin city. All my nerves were shot. And without thinking, I was reaching into the sack where my carbine was stowed...
Two arms wrapped around my waist.
"You will always have us, Sullivan. Never forget that."
Gavial's warm words melted away the ice. Ah, everything was so much clearer. Is this why Ive seen her giving patients piggyback ride? To share the warmth?
"Feeling better?"
"Great."
"Oh, and Sully?"
"Yeah?"
"You can let go now. I have to haul this guy off to the nearest infirmary." Blood was rushing into her cheeks. Gavial was... blushing?
I broke my grip and cleared my throat. We were all in a hallway full of military personnel. Plenty of eyes saw everything that went down. It really wasn't the best place to be making out.
"No flippin' way!" Indra exclaimed, but then lowered her voice. "Gavial never gets all lovey-dovey with anyone. What is she doin with that bloke?"
"He knows about the tale of my blade. He's not a typical Sargonian mercenary." She tilted the sword and examined her reflection on its rusty edge. "Lady Kal'tsit, do you mind if we have a talk with that man?"
"Windimere's landship is only a few minutes away from the emergency summit. It's best that all of the players understand what he has to say."
Siege looked a little distraught over her words. Ms. Windimere may fully support putting her back on the throne, but I had no idea what the other Dukes wanted out from this. They were committing serious amount of resources into this conflict. No coming home without a piece of royal pie.
The short feline among them spoke up. "Siege, if Dublinn doesn't honor the ceasefire, my claws are ready."
"They were crossed, just like my family, Dadga. I see no reason why their leader would pull the same treachery against us."
"You tightened your grip when Lady Kal'tsit said we'd have to work together. You know it, and I know it."
"Oi! What's your problem, talkin about Siege like that?" Indra interjected.
"I'm pointing out the facts. Nobles have always acted on their own whims, regardless if their action throw others into the trash."
"You think Siege is a part of them? Why..." She stomped up towards shorty. Not that Dadga was scared. She boldly returned her gaze, with eyes that better belonged to that of a lion. She even had the appropriately sized claws. Before the two broke out into a fight, the one with the leopard jacket jumping in as an improvito ref.
"Girls, girls! We're making a scene!" She shoved the fuming felines away from each other.
"Shut it!/Silence!" They both yelled in unison.
"Enough. Please."
Mid swipe, Indra and Dadga quickly decided to postpone their scrap for later. Siege's simple command was enough to cause all her friends to stand at attention. Some of the actual military who were passing by seemed impressed.
"Thanks, Morrigan." She complimented. Morrigan must've been feeling pretty proud of herself, because a subtle smile begun to form on her lips.
"For now, we will be working with the Draco family. Further infighting will only see us torn apart by the storm, or blown apiece by the unidentified artillery. Do I make myself clear?"
The girls nodded in response.
"I see that Glasgow is all in agreement." Kal'tsit spoke. "Nobles and commoners, all under the same roof. You will have to so on a broader scale once this incident is resolved."
The Doctor excused herself, rolling down the passageway at a brisk pace. Siege watched as Kal'tsit disappeared among a sea of people, before turning towards her crew again and saying: "Let's move. The Dukes will be waiting for us. Especially you."
Her tanish eyes were on me.
"What's your name?"
There was immediate shift in her tone. Instead of sounding authoritative, it was more like she was just asking me a casual question. So, I replied back. Easy question.
"Jake Sully."
And then, seemingly continuing the casual tone: "Queen Vivina Alexandria of Victoria. It's ok if you just use my Rhodes Island codename."
I knew she was a royal, but it's not every day you get to stand face to face with who is essentially Queen Elizabeth. There was no coherent sentence I could form the wouldn't make me look even more like an idiot.
"See you there, Sully."
She waved girlishly while leaving with the rest her gang. Though, since she's THE queen, doesn't that make Glasgow the Knights of the Round Table? Then, that means the sword, the Sigh of Kings, was the Terran equivalent to Excalibur...
Face palm. I was stepping into a modernized take of those medieval European fantasy's, mxied in with demons, cat people, and invaders from outer space. Honestly, what does it all mean?
We later ran into Ms Windimere. She and her troops then promptly escorted us to the deck of her ship were we could crossover to the summit site. Her gait was more rigid and uptight than from before. I presumed she was still feeling sour over the airstrike, but a short haired Feline with a thick, light blue tail was now present. She meekly followed in the Duke's footsteps. I didn't think much of it of first, probably being her aide, but then i remembered Ms Windimere calling for "Daphne". If the Feline dyed her hair white, then she would appear similar to the Duke...
"Is that your child?" I ask.
"Keep moving." She spat back. Mrs Windimere briefly gave a reassuring look, and whispered into Dalphne's ear. Or, should I say, Dalphne Windimere.
There was already a sizable amount of civvies running around because the Sarkaz displaced them by holding their city hostage. Her daughter must've gotten mixed up in the mess, and from the gauze wrapped on her head, wasn't spared from the airstrike.
Mrs Windimere's had one hell of a bad day.
Now, it was time to meet up with her political rivals. They had these gangplanks extend and link the deck of her ship to the summit's location: the Iron Duke's capital ship, capital in every sense of the world. It was a similar model to Windimere's but larger. Far larger. There's always a bigger fish in the sea, and we were all staring right at it. The battleship casted a looming shadow on Windimere's vessel as we boarded it. However, like Mrs Windimere, the Iron Duke learned the hard way why Earth stopped making them; target practice, especially for planes. Several of the main gun batteries were up in flames, or their barrels were flayed open by ammo detonations. The ships deck was wide enough that the RDA didn't need laser guided payloads. I recalled the man from before, and Daphne.
Every Terran that dies from their hand is filed under "acceptable losses."
The ramp didn't bring us to the deck level. Instead, it connected to a pair of blast doors that opened as we approached. A squad of Victorian troops were already saluting before the doors parted ways. They escorted us down several passageways. Same deal with as with Mrs Windimere, including the flooded floors and injured crew lying about. Gavial was growling under her breath, gripping her healing staff, while Zumama was eyeing at the leaking pipe work. They couldn't stand ignoring all the people in need, but we were on a tight schedule.
Our final destination was the landship's war room, straight out of a WW2 flick. An ornately furnished wooden table with fresh tea for every seat greeted us. Behind the table was a large screen that took up the entire width of the room, displaying the formations of the Duke's fleets. They have a different style from the RDA, being more minimalist by representing everything in the form of squares and rectangles.
"Come in, come in! Don't want my tea to run cold, now."
A Feline, sitting on the side closest to the monitor, widened her arms and smiled with her bold lips. She wore a pearly white suit, pimped out with a glittering choker and jewelry around her wrists. Unlike the other Dukes, she didn't bother hiding her nobility.
We took our seats. Tea wasn't half bad. A little on the sweet end, but it beats cheap beer from Earth, that's for sure. Avdotya glared at the Duke, before reluctantly taking a sip of her drink. Her eyes were still narrow, untrusting. The Duke brushed her off with dismissive laughter.
"Never thought I would meet a talking diamond." Zumama muttered to Gavial.
"Yeah. She belongs in an art museum, not a battlefield." Gavial smirked.
The Duke's smile wavered. She simply kept her mouth shut and took another swig of her tea.
Meanwhile, things were getting tense on Siege's end. She and her "knights" sat closest to the center, and across from them was the two most important people in the room. One was a very well-featured lady with large, draconian horns poking out from her silvery hair. She wore a designer jacket over an XXL turtleneck that concealed her shorts (I'm hoping she wearing something under that shirt), only revealing her torn stockings. Her lower chest happened to glow purple with heat, and the very tip of her tail was burning with the same colors. Fire was typically how the casters back at Rhodes used their Arts offensively, but something felt different about the dragon lady's spin on it. She was subtly warming up the room with just the flames on her tail. I was worried that if things went south, she would flash fry us in an instant. Later on, I learned that spontaneous incineration was the least she was capable of...
The Draco and Siege hadn't touched their tea. Were they angry, barely containing the rage resukting from a several century feud? Or were they simply trying to figure each other before making a move? Your guess is as good as mine.
"Princess, you may relax. We can put off this complication for later."
The man next to her may have been a little lanky, but like Mrs Windimere, he was a hardened general. The whole story was on his raggedy beard. While the rest of the Victorian nobility spoke in English accents, the Iron Duke was unashamedly Irish. There's no counterpart to Ireland in Terra that I know of, so I'm going off what I know from Earth. He was the lone highlander among the Dukes, unless the Princess had the same ancestry. The draco listened to the old man, lowering things back to room temperature.
Mrs Windimere fury started to seep out from her pores. "So it is true. You have been funding the Taran Rebels, licking the boots of their leader? If you weren't the Iron Duke, Wellington, your head would be on the chopping block."
"Let's not get off-topic, Windimere." He replied, gruffly. "The subject of the matter is how the Kazdel Commission precisely bombarded all of our artillery positions and landship batteries outside of Londinium's effective range. Combat efficiency is down across the board, but if there's any good from this right mess, it's that their weapons failed to cripple our speed." He sighed with relief. The Duke then harden his face before putting me on the spotlight. "I want to know how they wounded the Gaestil, Sullivan. A fortress on tracks, a relic of a previous age, brought to a fraction of her strength before the battle has even begun!"
His voice practically boomed across the room. Windimere quietly sank back into her chair, while the Duke of Caster spilled some of her tea. Damn. He could seriously just sit down on the throne, declare himself king, and nobody would take issue. In reality, standing against the majority with the Draco Princess means alot of daggers are behind his back.
Oh, he's staring daggers into me. Better speak up.
"Listen, I know this might be hard to wrap your head around, but I'm not from Victoria, Sargon, or anywhere on Terra. I was sent from a different planet to secure my company's mining operations, but I changed my mind about working for them, obviously."
This was 3rd time I revealed my secret, and probably the last. These Dukes, since they were basically apart of the British Empire, had friends in every corner of Terra. They were going to blab the moment they defeat the Sarkaz, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Dalphne was already writing everything down in her notebook. I guess she is her mom's personal scribe. Rhodes wanted to keep tight lips about the whole invaders-from-space issue, to prevent the whole world from erupting into chaos. Now that Sec-Ops has an actual air force that can strike any major city in a few hours, it was time to let the cat out of the bag.
"Originium? Is that what they want? They should have asked politely." Mrs Windimere laughed cruelly.
"It still doesn't make a lick of sense. This new enemy you speak of went from Originium mining, to challenging my navy?" Wellington grumbled. "At the very least, now I am certain the attacks weren't caused by the Sarkaz directly. We were struck moments after the Kazdel Commission sent the transmission. If Londinium's cannons had the range necessary, they would've had the shells in the air before they even spoke with us. That means Sullivan's enemies are in cahoots with them! To think someone would willingly work with the Sarkaz outside of mercenary deals." He briefly paused to scratch his beard, reflecting about something. "The last part of this mystery is how the Company's weapons function and how to prevent them from wiping our forces clean."
I faced the Doctor. We both nodded in unison.
"Oh? Already have a plan in mind?" He sneered. "Spit it out."
Even though the Doc and I agreed to it back on Windimere's ship, there was this lingering sense of guilt in the back of my head. Most of the grunts were people who hit a deadend, and then the RDA came and swooped them up like vultures. Nice bonus if they had prior experience with guns. What i mean is that the Victorians might get overzealous and torture people who have no training against it.
Not the most morally ethical plan, but it was our only shot.
"It takes roughly 10 years for the RDA to send each batch of men and supplies to Terra. Or, that's what I remember. Hell, they've probably cut off a few years by now, but the point is, there is one resource they can't easily manufacture: people. You saw what they can do with their jets. Aircraft faster than sound, they will hit you before you even know it. Their weapons blow up literally anything in their sights, which is what we need to exploit to make them piss off. The plan is to imprison as many RDA troopers as you can handle. They can't risk blowing up their own men. One stray bomb would send them all packing."
The Duke of Wellington looked up at the sky for a moment. His Princess whispered into to his ear, and I could make out "Taran Independence" from her lips. Any sign of uncertainty was quickly buried away.
"A pragmatic solution, but it will have to do. Are you sure that Sargon wasn't your birthplace, lad?" He chuckled, before diving into the brief. "We charge into Londinium's southern port, as originally. Until we reach the port and capture the mercenaries, all our troops should stay in the lower decks to reduce the impact of their explosives. From there, Rhodes Island will send its Operators to take down the Shard. We can decide on the next Queen afterwards."
The screen behind him visualized the Victorian fleet moving into position.
"Understood?" He demanded, rather than ask.
"Understood. I'll give them a taste of hell!" Windimere yelled.
"Clear as the rising sun." Castor slowly nodded her head. "A shame that the RDA chose the Sarkaz over my empire. It would make integrating their weapons far less of a hassle.."
"And that concludes our meeting." Mr Wellington gave Castor the side eye while leaving the room with the Draco. "I will pass on the orders to the remaining Dukes. Be ready to roll in next hour or so."
A (former) marine like myself would have no business talking directly with the generals. Yet, there I was, telling them how to fend off the first true air wing the planet has ever seen. I was feeling like a hot shot when we left. But as they say, time flys when you're having fun, or in this case, basking in short lived glory. Now here comes part 2. The Doctor split us up into teams A and B. A team, including Amiya and Gavial's friends, were to destroy the Shard by blowing up its foundations. The catastrophy itself has to be dealt with separately because the Shard simply controls it. The truth is, the Sarkaz found a way to weaponize their hatred in the form of an Originium Storm, and was going to rage completely out of control the moment the Shard goes down. Taking down all the RDA's planes would be sweet, but we would obviously not coming out of that alive. B Team, led by Siege, were heading to the royal palace to release her swords true power. The Draco lady from before tagged along with her as well. Eblana Dublinn was her actual name. Her only reasoning was that she wanted to "settle" something over the Throne. Siege really has her hands full on this one.
I should've known that the moment we split up, the RDA would be there to pick us apart. After that, things went straight to shit. I'll turn things over to Siege. It'll make more sense...
A manhole outside of Westhaleg Palace appeared to raise itself out of the ground. In reality, a pair of narrow eyes performed a 360 degree sweep of the surroundings. Afterwords, the Feline scout decided that she saw enough, and lowered the lid.
"The coast is clear, Vina." Dadga reported.
"Good. Let's move on out." Siege ordered, beginning her climb.
Directly below her was Eblana. After the summit, she seemed to be getting along with Siege. Her light was a great help in the underground passageways, and she effortlessly slayed the few Sarkaz patrols that challenged them. On the surface, Eblana put on a calm smile. Siege wished it was that simple. The Draco was holding back. The restraint against ending the Aslan lineage took the form of muted flames along her tail.
Indra and Mortigan flanked her. If Eblana tried anything, she would be at an immense disadvantage. But a fight was truely the last thing Siege desired.
The palace was in a state of partial disrepair, since the Sarkaz chased away the staff. Chipping stone, shattered glass, and torn tapestries lied on the path to the main gates.
"I can't believe its still standing, Vina." Indra commented "I was thinking the Sarkaz torched the palace once they took control, but they left it here. No lookouts either. Is it empty?"
"The Grand Dukes are drawing away the Commission's troops, so of course the weakest link is ripe for the taking." Morrigan spoke, pumping her fist.
Eblana shook her head, sighing in a disappointment. Indra didn't have time ti question her thoughts because Siege ans Dadga had reached the palace's gates.
"Claws out, girls. They could have an ambush on tje other side." She lowered her voice. Siege, heaving in a large breath, sprited towards the gates. The momentum was enough to send them flying off their hinges. A unpleasant surprise for a sly Sarkaz expecting an easy kill.
However, the foyer was devoid of any enemies. Perhaps it was the case for the entire palace, as the sentries would've already made there way to the source of noise.
"No welcoming party? Boo." Morrigan spoke.
"The Dukes are giving it their all holding the Sarkaz off. We can't waste this opportunity." Siege gazed up the staircase. "It's up ahead. I can feel it."
The Aslan walked up the velvet stairs in almost a trance like state. Dadga, Indra, and Morrigan matched her pace out if respect. Siege was allowed to savior the moment, right? Her years on the run, scavenging for scraps of food, would finally be put behind her. Glasgow would be free to follow their wishes, since the oath they took was meant to restore her rightful position. The throne was key to her true life.
Eblana, on the other hand, placed her focus on the portraits of previous Kings and Queens lining the stairway. Aslan. Aslan. Feline. Aslan. Westhaleg Palace was one of the last remaining pieces of her culture, but that didn't stop the Aslans from twisting things in their image.
"It will end here." She muttered darkly in her native language. "Only then can Tarrans be free."
Siege and Eblana approached the grand doors. As they parted ways, they creaked and groaned with age. The room they revealed was neglected like the last of the palace, but it's purpose was still clear. At the end of a maroon carpet, was the ultimate prize.
"There it lies. The empty throne." Dadga's words broke Siege out of her spell. The Aslan blinked to clear her eyes.
"Huh? Oh!" She squinted at the foreign objective in the distance, and shortly realized it was Victoria's highest seat of power. The throne was also the limiting factor to the Sigh of Kings strength. All what needed to be done was claim her birthright. But, it was not.
"I have a single question."
Siege paused. The other members of the Gasglow Gang grew suspicious of Eblana's intentions, but it was ultimately their leader's call.
"Yes, what is it?"
A smile formed on the Draco's lips. "Would you tolerate a Taran nation under your rule?"
"I... don't exactly see what the problem is. Our blood, Taran or otherwise, is Victorian. If anyone has an issue with that, I will straighten them out for you."
"Hmm, that is all you have to say on the matter? They are the same people who have been trying to erase us for centuries, and you say I should hold hands?" Eblana smile faded away, sharpening her facial features in turn. Her tail's fire was raging hotter. Indra, Dadga, and Morrigan drew their weapons and got closer to encircle the Draco. Still, it was Siege's call.
"Eblana! I don't wish to fight, but if I must..." Siege put away her sledgehammer. She raised the sword instead. "I will beat some sense into you."
Eblana responded with an unhinged laugh."Perhaps, in another scenario, I would have played along. The aircraft operating in Londinium makes a Taran nation completely out of the question. They will hunt us all down the very moment they learn to build their own 'jets', and squish a young Taran nation the moment we lay the foundations. Where do we run to next, when walls are as meaningless to them as our lives? That is why I have to ensure the Aslans fall today."
Eblana directed her trident towards the Aslan. "Goodbye, Alexandria."
The royal rumble was cut abruptly short when a grenade flew in from stairs.
"Shit! Flash-" Indra's warning was drowned out by an extremely loud explosion, followed by blinding light. She was familiar with the device since the Victorian police often deployed them during riots. That struck out the Sarkaz sending the assailants to kill them, but all the noise and stars dancing around her eyes made it hard to get a good look...
Next, vague, blueish green, hulking masses grabbed the Glasgow Gang by their necks, and pressed them down onto the floor. As her vision started to clear, saw that Siege and even Eblana were detained by large, Ursine men in ballistic suits. The uniform colors were neither Sarkaz or Victorian, being a blend of blue and green camouflage. In their free hands were long, tripled barreled firearms with bayonets attached. Slung on their backs was a rocket launcher. The only reasonable explanation would be if they were rogue Sankta, but the Ursine ears gave it away. When not considering reason, the truth is obvious.
They were Sully's former employers from a world far, far away.
"Viva-" Indra gasped as the soldier clutched her neck. She glanced off to her sides. Morrigan and Dadga were in the same bind... No. She couldn't waste her breath now. Not when she could still fight! Viva's properly thinking of a way to bust them out...
The men guarding Siege and Eblana raise their blades. The color complete drains from Indra's face. They failed. Their job was to protect the queen...
A scientist with grey, messy hair and a modest beard casually strolled by, whistling an Ursine folk song. His labcoat sloppily covered his plain green shirt and jeans, harshly contrasting with his additional security detail consisting of men in less heavy duty, dark green body armor. The man closest to him was a grizzled type with greying crew cut. Covering his face was a glass facemask hooked up to a respiration device on his back. The rest of the troops had similar masks, but only the scientist lacked one. He grabbed Siege's hair and raised it up for the trooper to slice off. He then did the same to Eblana. The cuts were precise, only lopping off a few strands. He then placed the samples into two separate test tubes, capped the lid, and turned to face the remaining Glasgow members with a maniacal smile.
"My apologies," His Ursine accident was thick, but he lacked any animalistic traits, like his lesser troopers. "I am Dr Adrik Volodin, head of RDA Recombinant program. Lot's of things we desire out of you Terrans. Your disproportion strength, melting our mech suits with sticks. Hell, the Americans would pay billions for the material I took from those 2 ladies. But! You have greater purpose to us than to researcher who sits on knowledge, but doesn't apply. Oh, you seem a little blue. Ease on their throats."
The men loosened their grips, allowing Siege and the others to catch their breath. Eblana, oddly enough, wasn't winded. The Draco lashed out at Volodin. Verbally. Now that she was reoriented, overpowering the goon holding her down would be trivial. Curiosity made Eblana hold back.
"Why do you interfere in Victorian matters?!" She spat.
"Why? Humans from Earth need new home, and vola! A planet, right within our cosmic neighborhood, with perfect climate for life! Only problem is culture. Ours is similar, but different. Different enough that coexistence is foolish. A culling of the planetary scale is necessary. Best way to accomplish goal is how they defeated my country, when the Soviet Union was the greatest. Divide and conquer. Victoria empire, like Soviet Union, is big. Too big in the eyes of my superiors. Then, we learned that you had no king. Victoria, instead of big enemy, is now several smaller warlords that can be isolated and destroyed. My bosses want to keep it that way. They send squad over the moment we caught these two ladies on camera."
Dadga lowered her head in shame.
"Dammit... We walked straight into a trap..." Indra muttered.
"Vivia... What should we do?" Morrigan pleaded.
Siege closed her eyes in thought. When the answer was formed, she responded to the Scientist with relit determination.
"We are still alive. I assumed that your leader wanted us dead."
"Don't bite hand that feeds you, kitten." He sneered. Meanwhile, Siege saw Eblana wink out of the corner of her vision. The Draco's flames were intensifying, but slowly and subtly.
"It was I who convinced them otherwise. Why let two, high end specimens go to waste? I could make clones of you, and seize full control of Victoria. At same time, more material for super soldier program. Especially with fine Irish lady with the horns and reptile tail. The power of RPG, in palm of hands, literally! Hmm, is that human flesh I smell..."
The heat reflexively caused the Recombinant to release his grip. Eblana took the opportunity to gore the man through his helmet. The Ursusine hybrid pulled the trigger of his firearm before dying, but his falling corpse made his aim go high. It unleashed a hail of lead that peppered the ceiling with holes. When his body hit the floor, the gun fell out of his hands. Eblana gracefully pulled the trident out in one clean motion.
But when she turned around, Volodin's officer there to shoot her in the chest.
Eblana dropped her trident. She clutched her stomach, bending over from the pain. Then her body froze. The flames on her tail were all but a tiny wick. And her eyes were wide with terror.
"Nice shot, Quaritch." Volodin complimented. "Ladies, meet my solution to your hocus pocus. Magic Bullets! They are laced with nerve agent designed to sever the pathways responsible for Originium Arts. In other words, a convenient method to silence pesky fireball shooting wizards. They are no more!"
The draco's reaction worsened. Her flames began to spin out of control. They grew beyond her tail and formed a vortex of pyrokinetic energy. The flames started to take the shape of viscous ghouls with horns.
"Eblana..." Siege spoke with concern. The ghouls were not an expression of her Arts. Eblana could literally raise the dead with her flames. While she was relying on Eblana causing a distraction to escape the RDA, it was in the worst way possible.
As if to confirm her fears, the Sigh of Kings started to glow.
"Yes, Yes!" Volodin shouted victoriously. "I thought she was Pyrokinteic from footage, but that is life and death she is playing with. I can see it... A whole ARMY of necromantic Recombinants should make up for the bombardments."
Her Arts melted the troopers' bullets into purple slag. When they were grabbed by her monsters, they perished instantly into a pyre of flame, leaving behind skeletons. The Ursine Recombinants finally let the Glasgow go free, the Felines collectively scrambling out of their line of fire. 50 Cal bullets weren't doing the trick, so they pulled out their rocket launchers and fired in perfect unison. Once more, they melted before they could touch Eblana. In response, the Draco materialized 4 additional tridents, and sent them to skewer the remaining Recombinants.
"Son of a bitch." Quaritch pulled out his radio. "All units, prepare to retreat! We are not dealing with a Pyrokinetic-Class Caster! Dr Volodin's drugs didn't work, and the Caster is incinerating everything I have. Fall back from the palace and meet up at the extraction point. Out!"
He grabbed the awestruck doctor by his collar, dragging him out the room along with his surviving troops.
Siege was now the sole target for Eblana's rage.
"Aslan." Any hint of kindness was gone. All that was left was a beast.
Siege stared into her blade. It was now clear of all blemishes, so she had a decent look at her reflection. But it wasn't herself who appeared on that blade. Instead, it was her most trusted ally, her guardian during her early years.
Gawain. Her companion slowly nodded, slowly being replaced with Siege's own image.
"What's the call, boss?" Indra asked.
Siege dramatically pointed the blade at Eblana. "Today, we slay a dragon."
She charged headfirst into danger, her knights not far behind.
On the 18th peak of the Shangshu Mountains, a certain poet slumbers in pure bliss. What does she dream of? It would be impossible to define an unfettered individuals desires. However, a great disturbance brings her transcendent state to a premature close.
"The sky falls. Landships, rent apart. Man and beast combine into one. By unknown means, they acquired the ability to bend the fabric of reality. Crudely, but they understand the principles, but not of the consequence. An investigation is in order."
Ling yawns, takes her staff and gourd of wine, and begins her journal down Xunri Peak.