happy holiday season everyone :)
Her mind tended to go blank when under great duress.
It was a psychological safety mechanism Draedon had installed in her generation of Agents, a feature that had mostly been phased out as an extraneous, and injurious feature. Returning to the basest of instincts whilst engaging in very important matters was - as expected - detrimental to leadership and decision making, but in a purely combatitive sense, had saved her life so many times, The Party Girl wasn't sure what she'd do without it. Indeed, CC Agents did not live long. Their bodies were often unstable due to enhancements, their minds even moreso. The work they did was strenuous and dangerous, and The Empire did not treat them with much care. There was no retirement plan for CC Agents. Every single one of them died honorably in the service of The King.
So for an Imperial Agent to survive five years in the line of duty was a miracle.
Ten years was almost unheard of.
And yesterday marked The Party Girl's ten year milestone. She was a good agent, yes, but there was nothing extraordinary about her. She was fast, but no faster than the others. She was strong too - but compared to The Monster Knight who now pursued her, she might as well not be enhanced at all. The Party Girl didn't survive purely through ability. She wasn't spectacularly lucky either... but she was perceptive. In the midst of battle, she knew very clearly her chances of victory and defeat. Although she normally harbored pride in her work, her 'animal mind' did not. It wasted no time in tearing apart lesser foes, or fleeing in shameful cowardice from a greater one. The Party Girl had fought thousands of battles, and her 'animal instinct' had triggered thousands of times. When the difference between life and death was mere seconds, these many split second decisions had saved her life time and time again.
And today was no different.
*taptaptaptap*
Her spiked shoes clacked loudly as she tore through the terrain, driven almost mindless by the fear that seized her. Her pulse pounded in her temples and beat against her vision. Her eyes bugged out of her head as if straining to leap out and look for a place to hide. She saw every leaf on every tree. She could see every detail in every piece of fallen bark. She could hear The Monster Knight gaining on her. His steps, even while he ran, were even and echoed oddly over the land - as if he existed on a different plane of reality. Were they closer than before? Was that his breath on the nape of her neck, or just the wind? The Party Girl didn't turn to look; she knew even such a small thing might disturb her gait, cause her to stumble to her death.
Shit... go, go, go!
The morning sun glared down into her eyes.
Her head was filled with the sound of ragged breathing. Her throat was tight. Her nerves were strung. Sweat trailed down her face as she flew across the landscape, feeling every impact in the heels of her feet. Where was she going? She was never sure until she got there. Why was she being pursued? Such reasons were entirely outside her current survival objective. As far as she knew The Monster Knight had snapped. He had come back home... alone, from whatever adventure he had chosen to embark on (Expectantly, The Guide never shared details of their outings with the rest of The Compound - he mostly thought everyone was his enemy anyways) and immediately turned murderous. Did he have a fight with The Guide? Perhaps there was some disagreement between them that caused The Monster Knight to act out in this way? Who knows.
All The Party Girl knew was that right now, The Monster Knight was... was living up to his name.
She could tell from he way he walked. He was moving like a predator, with stern malice and not a shred of hesitation in him. There was no remorse as he drew his blade. There was no pity as he raised it. There wasn't even anger, frustration or rage. He was a monster in the shape of a knight who killed everything in front of him simply because it was in his nature to do so. Simply because he should. The Mechanic had her head sliced from her body, not because she shouted at The Knight, not because she tried to engage him, or talked down to him or anything else, really...
She died because The Monster Knight saw her.
And even now, The Party Girl could feel that flat, pale gaze fixed upon the back of her neck. The path she was now running... The Monster Knight must have walked it before. There were corpses of all types - everywhere. Slimes quivered on the ground, their cores pierced through with broken arrow shafts. The wrung bodies of rabbits and squirrels were strewn about, even hanging from trees and littering the underbrush. Birds were nothing more than colourful bundles of bloodied feathers matting the lush undergrowth.
This once idyllic land... it now smelled like death.
*taptap-tap-tap...tap*
The cliff was up ahead. The very same cliff she had leapt from so many weeks ago. Back then, she and The Monster Knight were allies. They had, together, sought to find The Knight's missing arm - and during their brief adventure, were chased here by an enormous crimson monstrosity. She had been terrified back then, but at least she had an ally.
Today, she was alone.
Her clawed shoes pounded against the stones, where loamy soil gave way to the cliffside.
She ran and she ran until the ground ran out from beneath her.
Then she was flying. Leaping to the safety of the depths.
And praying The Monster Knight did not follow her.
*Splash!*
"Take down this illusion immediately or I'll have the lot of you scrubbing toilets for a week!"
"..."
"Do you think I'm kidding? I've had it with you brats!"
"..."
"I will fail you, do you understand? Do you hear me?! Release me now, or I will have you expelled! The Headmaster will hear of this!"
"..."
No response. He furrowed his brow as he regarded -with disgust- the piles of dead animals that seemed to be strewn everywhere. They were, admittingly, very realistic. They smelled like what he imagined a fresh corpse would smell like. The dried blood and the splatter patterns were true to life. Even the guts and the innards have been rendered with great care.
So great, in fact, that The Guide was beginning to think they were real.
Nonsense...
Of course this wasn't real, and of course he wasn't scared. The Guide had been forced to stop being scared - or rather, to stop showing he was scared - else he would have been driven from his position long ago. He was a scholar at heart, a great student of history and spellcrafting - and despite not having a magical bone in his body, somehow managed to get hired as a history teacher in The Capitol's Arcane University.
But much to his great dismay, over the past month of teaching, The Guide had come to learn CAU's students were not only powerful mages but merciless pranksters as well! Because he was unable to cast counter magic, The Guide found himself the de-facto victim of nearly every practical joke on campus. Sometimes he would wake up chained to a wall in a bloody dungeon (a simple matter of powerful hypnosis). Sometimes he was "teleported" into a werewolf's den and beset upon by snarling beasts (it was just the second-floor broom closet filled with giggling young mages just begging to fail his class.) But mostly, his books were turned into toads, his hair set on fire, his skin was dyed different colours, etc...
Indeed, The Guide who - prior to taking this position - had considered himself a rather sensitive and non-confrontational person had become so jaded to the antics of teenage wizards, almost nothing could faze him. Yesterday somebody had cast a spell on his bathroom mirror such that the following morning, when he got up to shave, he found his own zombified reflection clawing at the glass, trying to attack him. Thankfully, although he had to listen to his own voice snarling and smashing its "fists" against the other side of the glass, the mirror was still a mirror and he still got his clean shave.
So, all in all, when The Guide woke up to find himself laying in a silent, bright field filled with dead animals - he was neither shocked, fearful nor amused. Instead, lay there for a moment, sighed, thought about his monthly salary (that value always made him feel better about putting up with a classroom of demons) and crawled to his feet. The clearing was rather beautiful. A fresh breeze blew eastwards and the babbling of a creek could be heard nearby. The sun was high in the sky and shone brightly down on the variety of wildflowers that reached as high as his knees. Had he not been convinced this was just another cruel prank, he might have stopped to enjoy the scenery - but alas, the moment he was upright, he began yelling at his invisible students.
"You brats! I don't care if the midterm is today! I told you I was not going to delay it! Do you think you can bully me into delaying exams because you failed to study! Release this enchantment immediately lest I report you to the headmaster!"
"..."
"The longer I'm stuck in here, the less time you have for your test! Are you going to force the whole class to fail?"
"..."
"Hello!? Hello?!"
"..."
"..."
And after half an hour of yelling himself raw... he decided he might as well walk. He was well aware that spells - if this was an illusory type - had a radius, and the moment he cleared that radius, he was going to punch some snide brat in the mouth - then he was going to smash up the office of whoever was helping said brat. Because although the school was full of talented mages, no student had the skill or stamina to hold such a detailed illusory spell for so long. I bet those kids have the help of The Wizard again. I know that old coot always hated me, elitist snob.
"Wizard, you piece of shit I'll have you fired too!"
"..."
Ridiculous.
No answer. Fine. The Guide was going to leave then. He chose a direction and just started to walk.
...
He walked for hours. He walked the whole day, trekking through fields and over babbling streams, moss covered logs and through swaying ferns. His expensive suede shoes were getting muddy, and his equally expensive slacks were fraying as they brushed on fallen debris - yet despite the wear and tear, no matter how far he walked the trees always looked the same. He knew that dead raccoon. His photographic memory told him it was the exact same one he had passed 30 minutes ago... but he was also certain he'd been walking in a straight line for the entire afternoon. Did his students not think he'd notice a border spell? (it really was an intolerably massive border though) Perhaps this was actually some re-purposed corner of they school grounds they have him wandering about in? There was no way they actually killed such an amount of woodland creatures for a practical joke... Blast it, if they had, The Guide really would string them up by their toes.
You can't even find deer near The Capitol... these must be illusions.
How tiresome. What an annoyance. If his students wanted to avoid the exam so badly, at the very least, they could conjure him up some entertaining company, because there wasn't a single living thing in this entire forest! Everything had been killed - from the smallest bird, to the boars and bears in the woods. Each body was either sliced with a sharp blade or peppered with arrows - tools of a hunter... but what sort of hunter killed every living thing and just... walked away? Frankly, there was no use trying to find rhyme or reason in this little exam-avoiding escapade.
"..."
"..."
The sun was... starting to set.
He was growing tired.
Would there be shelter in this place? Somehow... somehow he was convinced of it. He knew a place had been prepared for him in the midst of these slaughtered woods. Raw silken sheets, a tasteful, yet humble kitchen. A rudimentary restroom and an (archaic) blazing fireplace. Sure, it wasn't anything close to the luxuries he was used to - but The Guide was intent on remaining comfortable until whichever damn student that had put him into this illusion ran out of mana.
And so, The Guide yawned and allowed that odd draw to pull him ever deeper into the bloody forest.
He walked and he walked... until he found himself before the large, regal doors of a deserted Compound.
MEMO DTD: 06/111/01XX
ADDRESSED TO SURVEILLANCE DEPT
FWD:FWD: Orders from Zoologist on behalf of Draedon.
Team, please see the message below. The Mechanic, Lab ID: 78VG was one of Draedon's first apprentices. She disappeared approx. 5 years ago and has been presumed dead. Run the attached profile through the TWINS and set them to search for The Mechanic with high priority.
I have likewise attached the search parameters for "The Party Girl" CC unit #5534. Run these as well. Draedon suspects this may be a Resistance Trap, but if the sample is real, he is interested in obtaining it. Report if either of these two individuals are found and report to me immediately.
Copying Clandestine Corps Central Command- Rescind your orders to kill CC#5534, effective immediately. Amend orders to Capture live. If She is captured, likewise notify me.
Regards,
Zoologist
Chief Associate Laboratory Manager
Imperial Laboratories - Capitol Campus
xxx-xxx-0987
--
MEMO DTD: 06/111/01XX
ADDRESSED TO DRAEDON CAPITOL LABORATORY
FWD: Communications office - Message came through with Encryption level 5 via unknown channel. Clandestine Corps have advised concerning Agent #5534, 'Party Girl'. This Gen-12 Agent is currently considered a defector due to failure to communicate with central in a timely manner. Sent to investigate Crimson Border 3wks~ ago and has not reported since. Please review and advise.
--
MEMO DTD: 06/111/01XX
Draedon,
The Mechanic (Lab ID:78VG) confirms she is alive. Requests to regain her former position as chief laboratory assistant. Requests escort from CRIMSON BORDER with CC Agent #5534. We are set to deliver a specimen useful to military research to DRAEDON CAPITAL LABORATORY. This superhuman presents with the following abilities above that of a normal human being, despite having the appearance of one: enhanced healing, regeneration, enhanced strength. Furthermore, its blood seems to have odd properties that may prove useful for bio-mutagenic synthesis. Urgent Extraction requested.
LOCATION: -45.6'4, 05.2'6
The Guide #??? is a muggle smh