Cool eyes regarded the young woman cracking her neck, sensual features at odds with the feral gleam in her eye as her hands flashed with the glint of sickles before she was hidden in gloom, until only her mercury irises remained.
The powerfully built man fully kitted in high tech chrome-plated armor looked out the jagged hole that had been smashed into the building that conveniently gave a perfect bird’s eye view of the interior of the block-wide warehouse within which a handful of Classers had been bound by collars and chains beside a pile of rubble far deadlier than it looked, all of it contained in a giant cage that had once been used to cart dinosaurs from the territory nearby as an easy way for the elites to earn quick levels with hardly any effort, or risk, at all.
The mercenary smirked as he gazed down at their bound and collard captives. Even with his distance and levels and armor, he made sure not to peer directly into the haunted eyes of the woman that no one was to look at or converse with, contenting himself with the angry glares of the three men who had to know they were already as good as dead.
“We’ll wait for as long as it takes. Prince Song’s made it clear that this is a thorn in his side that he wants removed.”
This earned a snort. “And we’re sure that pansy-ass bitch is going to deliver the goods?”
The mercenary shrugged. “Of course not. But he already made half a million credits with the intel he provided, after leading those idiots right into our hands.” The man snorted, shaking his head. “As if they had any chance in hell of actually seizing Song’s key.”
“Yeah, that would be a stretch, since our boss already soul-bound that old relic once we caught those Enigmatics trying to sneak off with one of our museum artifacts, once he got the full explanation of its importance and power with those poor fool’s dying breaths.”
The girl chuckled coldly, before giving the mercenary a winsome smile. “So, Alfred, assuming our target does show… we good?”
Alfred peered consideringly at the young woman, her eyes glittering with feral excitement.
“Rumor has it that this Ernest is no joke, Selma. Lots of kills under his belt. You sure about this?”
“Damn fucking right, I am! With you and the boys pinning that asshole with plasma, I’ll tear out his throat before he can blink!” Her eyes flashed with feral glee. “And the rush I’ll get when I take his fucking head… better than all the meth in the world.”
“Sure, Selma. Sure.” He shrugged. “Since Song’s taken a shine to you… yeah, girl. We can do that.”
“Sweet!” Selma gave a bemused Alfred a heartfelt hug that went right through his power armor, as if it weren’t even there. He sighed and patted her head.
“You’re the best, Alfred!”
He snorted. “You say that every night, and you still hop over to Leo’s room.”
Selma shrugged. “A girl has appetites. You know that.”
“Sure I do, girl.” His bemused smile hardened. “Remember, don’t go out there until our target’s ID’d and we’ve gotten at least a few shots on him. Don’t worry, we’ll aim to cripple, not kill.”
Selma’s grin widened. “Seeing as we got time to kill, Alfy…”
Alfred chuckled. “You’re one naughty girl, you know that, Sel?”
“So what are you going to do about—what the fuck is that?”
She scowled, the entire building vibrating with the words echoing through the ether.
“Debilito, dicio, ignis, plures, dies!”
“Witch chants! I thought we cleared them out of this quarter?” Alfred scowled, the eerie echo drowned out by the sound of his M-III plasma blaster thrumming to life. He peered into the abandoned warehouse where the captives were, before turning to look outside the broken windows, seeing nothing but fog, the distant sound of chittering rats echoing in the auditory unit of his helm.
“Valter, you hear all that?”
A second later a voice crackled on the comms. “Confirm.”
“Do you have a target?”
“Negative, sir. No one’s showing on the sensors.”
Selma scowled, crossing her arms. “Magic. That was some kind of spell, I’m fucking sure of it! I’ll bet it was those witches. Guess I’m going to have to have another talk with a certain scar-faced bitch. She knows the rules… and it’s all too likely they were the ones helping the Enigmatics! If her shit wasn’t so useful to Lord Song…”
“So maybe it was the witches. Maybe claiming another one of their coven will put them in line. But what if that wasn’t the source?”
“Good point, Alfy. What if it was our target?” She scowled. “But that was a woman’s voice. Not a man.”
“So you think it’s another classer?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. New York is home to a fair number of us… and at least some of us know how to bring in actual coin and keep this city running.
“Yup, that’s why the prince puts up with you all. You’re good for business, and defending our territory. Even if your discipline and focus are absolute shit.”
Selma scowled at her lover’s smirk. “I don’t see you complaining any.”
The merc laughed. “Why the hell would I complain? You’re great company, girl. And if you actually get your head on straight and show some discipline, you might actually have a future.”
She snorted. “Why does it even matter if I like to party? I reset every day. Fresh clean start. Fresh healthy me.”
This earned a chuckle. “How sweet it is to be a first gen classer in a newly risen world.”
Selma’s eyes twinkled, before turning to a scowl when the comms came to life once more.
“Sir! There’s a woman here… she says she’s a classer and she wants to talk to the man in charge about employment opportunities.”
Alfred blinked. “Are you fucking serious? What kind of idiot… you sure that’s a chick?”
“Yeah, pretty sure. My infrared pinged all the important bits. Her armor’s nothing special. Basic beast hide, but she doesn’t look weak.”
Selma glared. “I don’t like it. Feels fishy.”
“No shit,” Alfred muttered, before raising his voice. “How the hell did she even know to come here?”
“She said she saw a flash of powered armor, and whoever has high tech armor has to be in with the movers and shakers of this city, and she wants in. That’s what she said, anyway.”
Alfred blinked. “Shit, that actually makes sense?”
Selma’s scowl didn’t abate. “I don’t buy it.”
The mercenary chuckled. “But that’s exactly how you got in good with Song, and our corp.”
This earned a sultry smile. “Yeah, but only after we hooked up at the club. I had the sense to scope you out and learn your habits for a week before seducing you. Only then did I bother hitting you up for work when you were all relaxed and happy. This bitch is just coming out of nowhere, in the middle of our operation.”
Alfred smirked. “My own stalker. I’m flattered.”
Her hands flashed with sickles once more, radiating Shadow and the essence of Sharpness. “I don’t like this, Alf. Not one bit.”
Alfred dipped his head. “Agreed. Valter! We’re collaring that girl!”
“Sir?”
Alfred traded smiles with Selma. “Sure, we’ll interview her. Give her a fair chance. But it’s collard and bound. If she’s cool with that? We’re good. If not? You know what to do.”
“I… yes, sir. Valter out.”
Selma smirked. “Good thinking, lover. That will put this bitch in her place… oh fuck! She’s so fucking hot… that’s not fair!”
Selma glared at the fiery-eyed woman that Valter was bringing into the chamber. She sucked in a displeased huff, hating the way the woman radiated potency and competence in waves, like she was the center attraction. And with her flawless features and jewel-like irises… fuck!
Then Selma’s eyes widened, lighting up with visceral excitement.
Her lips curled in a fierce smile, hands now on the hilts of her resummoned scythes. “She’s a Contender. Fuck, she’s a Contender!”
Alfred blinked at this.
“Sir! The prisoner… I mean prospective employee is here to see you about an… interview.” Said the power-armored Valter, now presenting the obvious huntress, standing up tall and proud, her longbow had been taken but her quiver of arrows was still on her. And she moved with flair. Her long hair managed to cover the collar entirely, which Selma thought a neat trick, the girl’s postures straight, even with the shock bands securing her wrists behind her.
Alfred took a moment to glare at the clear-eyed huntress, frowning as he took her measure, circling around her, his nose crinkling momentarily at the sour tang of a forge’s bellows that passed moments later.
Selma smirked, well able to imagine the fear that should be in that green-eyed hussy’s features, the sweat that should be streaming from her brow, realizing that she was in way over her head. But much to Selma’s irritation, the girl didn’t even flinch. Instead the too tall girl, six feet if she was an inch, flashed a perfect smile full of pearly white teeth. Because of course she had that. Probably didn’t even have to waste a point getting all her blemishes removed.
Selma hated her on sight.
“So, what’s your name, girl?”
“Valoria Hunter, sir.” The girl didn’t hesitate, her diction clear and concise, her demeanor showing now anxiety at all.
Alfred scowled. “So tell me, Valoria, why are we having this conversation?”
She grinned. “Happily Sir! I have a Nose for Excitement, and I smelled something exciting happening this way! So I thought, why not get in on the action? Make some powerful friends, show off my skills, and make some coin?”
Alfred frowned at this. “A Nose for Excitement? What the fuck even is that?”
Valoria shrugged. “Something I got when the voice in my head told me I was a Contender.”
Alfred frowned at that, trading glances with a cool-eyed Selma. “So, you don’t deny it.”
“Why would I? I think it means I can level up faster?”
Alfred snorted. “That’s what it means to you?”
She shrugged. “I guess? Anyway, I did earn some nice levels hunting those ankylosauruses and the spike-tailed dinos too. But I thought… fuck it, I want something different! It’s time for city adventures! Besides, my corp mates pussied out after we nearly got killed during our last run, so they took their earnings and headed south for some homesteading bullshit.”
She shook her head sadly. “Can you believe it? We had a perfect seven person party, only everyone except me turns out to be perfectly matched couples. No drama, no heartache, and once they reached level fifty… and I shoot up to level seventy, because Contenders are awesome, and they want to cash out and retire! They’re planning on buying large tracks of fertile land with their earnings in territory they can easily defend and become craftsmen and farmers. Steve and Jess even went so far as to claim farming professions! Seriously? It’s way too early in the game for that slice-of-life bullshit. The fun’s just begun, I say!”
“No fucking way!” Selma hissed, ignoring the glare she earned from Alfred. “There’s no way you earned level seventy in a level fifty group, just because you’re a Contender! You’d need over double the experience point bonuses!”
Valoria nodded in what seemed complete agreement. “Exactly. I thought it was weird too. Awesome, but weird. John said it’s probably because I’m a Contender, and I do have a Boon that says ‘power up and ascend!’ but it doesn’t give details or explain anything? It’s just all pretty and glowing and flashes whenever I level up.”
Her eyes widened with excitement, cheeks dimpling with a cheerful grin. “Hey, you’re a Contender too, right? I sense something absolutely delicious about you! Think you can give me pointers? Or hey, maybe we can adventure together! Who knows how high a level we could earn? Maybe we could even achieve Bronze!”
Selma scowled. “I don’t know if you’re really this much of a clueless bitch, or just fucking with me.”
Valoria blinked. “Why would I fuck with you? I’m here to prove myself, accept any quests you guys have, and go up the ranks. Maybe even earn the approval of the king of New York. Or mayor. Whatever we’re doing now.”
“Like this is a fucking computer game?”
Valoria shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”
Valter smirked. “This kids too much. Hell, maybe Song would like to hire her. We can always use more people who can help us handle… well... you know what.”
“Bullshit,” Selma snapped. “I’ll get us the keys, don’t worry about that. It won’t be a problem. Especially not with you guys backing me up.” She scowled, peering intently at the innocently smiling and completely clueless girl for long, thoughtful moments.
“Valoria, you said your name was?”
The huntress nodded. “Yup!”
“You! You’re the one who tore open the front gate, ruptured our defenses, and sent the whole city into a panic!”
The pair of power armored men instantly switched stances from bemused tolerance to deadly precision, their plasma blasters humming as they pinned the girl with their guns.
The air grew perilously tense as Selma stepped forward, glaring at the interloper. “You’re trouble, girl. And that means you’re mine. You and all your juicy ‘Level up And Ascend power.” She flashed a cruel smile, exchanging a nod with a cold-eyed Alfred who had stepped back. “Nothing personal, bitch. But I’m afraid your story’s coming to an end.”
Valoria blinked in dismay. “Wait, are you serious? You really want to kill me? That’s crazy! I didn’t even… look, how about you contact your boss, first? I came here to work, not to get my head chopped by the first other Contender I meet!”
Alfred scowled. “Selma, we can put her with the others. Confirm with Lord Song. If she’s really the same girl, Song might want to hire her, especially if she’s that fucking strong. If she’s someone else… again, she could be useful… what the fuck!?”
Alfred spun to the opening, armored boots clomping as he raised his thrumming blaster now crackling with plasma and peril, just a single squeeze from obliterating whatever he aimed it at.
“What the hell!”
“Boss? What’s wrong?” Valter asked.
“Our prisoners just broke free of their restraints, they’re running! And fuck, is that a rabbit? Why the hell is there a rabbit?”
***
“Look at those fuckers just sneering down at us!” Louie snarled, struggling against his bindings, glaring up through the bars of their cage at the cold, imperious metal masks of the power armored mercenaries peering down at them from the former offices of the giant ruined warehouse they were chained up in.
“Easy Lou. Come on, now. These are kill collars we’re wearing. We don’t want to give those assholes any reason to trigger them prematurely, buddy,” Drake soothed. “We just gotta hold tight and figure this out. This isn’t the worst spot we’ve ever found ourselves in. Not by far.”
“Are you kidding?” Alice choked back a sob, the desperate eyes of a lost angel gazing at back at her friend. “We’re not talking about level 30 bounty hunters from the CSA, Drake. These are Bronze tier mercs in the employee of a fucking Silver! Even worse, none of these boys will even give me the time of day, and that stupid bitch cunt of a goth girl with zero interest in chicks stops by only to water us and tell us how horribly we’re all going to die! All because of that stupid, fucking, treacherous piece of shit Jim!”
Alice’s eyes flashed with heat. She screamed her fury.
Before lightning crackled and she lurched back with a groan, collapsed in her restraints, the air smelling of burnt hair and fried skin.
“Alice!” Louie’s eyes lit with feral rage. “You’ll pay for that, motherfuckers! You’ll fucking aargh!!”
“Quiet. All of you. You won’t be warned again.” Cold words crackled over whatever intercom the mercenaries used. Impersonal. Unfeeling. Because they didn’t really care. And the looks Morlekai shared with the others made it clear they all knew just how dire their situation had become. Because these assholes wouldn’t feel a single flicker of regret when whoever was in charged finally decided it was time for them all to die.
“Easy, Alice,” Morlekai whispered, amber eyes flaring with resolve. “Party chat only.”
He waited for all three of his companions to nod before continuing to speak where their enemies wouldn’t here a word.
“This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.” He dared to smile. “My blood crow’s about to enter the passage back. Once Grandfather knows of our situation, it will only be a matter of time.”
Drake nodded. “And in the meantime, we got skills to hone. I almost got my left cuff popped open, and hell, is it just me, or is it getting kind of damp in here?”
Morlekai dared to smile. “Good. Good! Grandfather is here. He sees my crow! And yes… Eric is here!” Then he frowned. “He just transformed. Flawlessly. If I hadn’t seen it…”
Alice’s eye widened with tear-filled hope. “Boyscout’s coming? Oh thank heaven, I knew he wouldn’t forget us!” She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight. “Why the fuck didn’t we listen, Morlekai? When Eric made it clear what he thought of Jim… when Jim tried to set Eric up over complete bullshit, trying to rile mother up into booting him out or worse… fuck, Morlekai! He was setting up Eric, our friend, to get killed by Mother’s paranoia, and to power up with his death! It was all happening right in front of us! It wasn’t just a cock measuring contest, even if Eric just laughed it off and managed to impress Mother… if Boyscout had frozen up, after Jim deliberately let so much slip... he was trying to get our friend killed!”
“Fuck, babe. When you’re right, you’re right,” Louie agreed. “We should have never given that shit the benefit of the doubt. The second he threw shade on Eric, especially afte we told him that Eric was good people… that should have been the moment that I pounded his fucking face in!”
“You and me both,” Drake said with a sigh.
Morlekai shook his head. “Plenty of blame to go around. We were too focused on the keys and the score. We didn’t take issue with Jim because we didn’t want to believe those were his true colors, even when it was right in front of our faces!” He glared, clenching his fists. “We should have known. The moment he gazed at Eric like a hunter measuring his prey, we should have known that bastard’s true intentions! He didn’t want Mother’s blood, or to join our coven. He was just setting us up to secure the score for himself! And this way he gets in good with Lord Song while doing it!”
“All because we fucked up,” Alice whispered. “One mistake too many. Let’s just hope we get the chance to actually make it up to Eric, assuming we even get out of this.”
Morlekai’s eyes lit with heat. “We will. Trust me.” He flashed a relieved smile. “I just informed Grandfather of the situation. He understands it’s a trap. He says he’s taking steps, and that we need to be ready.”
Alice’s eyes widened. “Shit, the mist is thickening!”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“But that’s a good thing, right?” asked an anxious Louie.
She sighed. “Not if it spooks the tin suits so bad they start shooting first and asking questions never, and what the fuck? Are you serious?”
“What’s wrong, babe?” Louie asked, but Alice’s lips had curved into a gentle smile.
“Oh what a wonderful thing you are!”
“Babe?” Louie blinked. “Did a rabbit just hop onto your gurney?”
“Damn right I did,” Bunbun snarked as her snow white paws turned bright crimson. “And don’t stare at me like that, you big lug. You’re going to give it away!”
Louie blinked. “But you can talk! And you’re in our group chat!”
Lilly rolled her expressive crimson eyes. “Well of course, genius. I’m Eric’s familiar. He’s still in your party chat. You never kicked him out. Honestly, I don’t know if you even can kick him out. I think he holds System privileges like that. And I’m his fully autonomous second in command and Underlord. Yeah! Technically, I mean.”
She smirked at the awed looks this earned from Alice and Morlekai.
“Underlord? Do you even know what you’re saying?” Alice hissed. “Grim told us that only a handful of the most powerful liches…”
Bunbun tilted her head. “Duude.”
Alice blinked. “What?”
“Do you want out of these kill collars or not?”
Alice’s eyes widened with sudden hope. “Are you serious? How—” the air rang with words that seemed to echo through the entire warehouse.
“Debilito, dicio, ignis, plures, dies!”
“What the fuck…” Alice’s eyes widened. “That was powerful.”
Morlekai nodded. “I can feel the taste of Fire and Dominion in that chant.”
“Of course! My master’s making sure the massive black powder bomb covered in steel shrapnel at your backs won’t erupt and take us all out, just like it did those orcs at the New York subway station just, what… a year ago? Anyway, hush. Now’s the hard part.”
The speechless crew watched silently as the rabbit closed her eyes, touching a trembling Alice’s collar with crimson hands.
The sound of the lock popping off painfully loud filled them all with hope and fear.
“You did it!” Alice sobbed, eyes filling with tears as the collar loosened, needing only a freed hand to pull off her entirely.
She couldn’t help but struggle against her wrist bindings. “Please… hurry!”
Much to her dismay, Bunbun shook her head. “Nope. Collars first. If anyone gets a clue, it’s snippy time for all of you.” She then pointed at the giant hole at the top of the distant wall from which the people in charge had been glaring down at them, though their backs were turned, clearly busy with the strikingly pretty huntress now before them.
“Okay, Fearless Leader’s providing distraction. Let’s get this finished ASAP!”
Louie, Drake, and Morlekai exchanged intent stares that turned to profound relief as one lock was popped after another, first freeing Morlekai, then Louie, then Drake.
“Okay, good! That’s the hardest part. Now keep still! Let me get pop your wrist locks and we’re fucking out of here.”
Louie and Drake were smiling with profound relief.
“I knew Boyscout wouldn’t let us down!” Drake said, choking back a sob with his soft chuckle.
Louie solemnly nodded, taking a deep, shuddering breath when he felt his own chains slip away, though he was careful to keep his pose and position just the same as it had been while the rabbit slowly… too slowly? Worked on Morlekai’s bindings as well.
“Free!” Morlekai gave a fierce his of pleasure, glaring up at hole once more.
“This isn’t over.” He then turned his head to his friends. “But now’s not the time.”
The other three flashed relieved smiles.
“Damn right it isn’t, Morlekai!” Said Drake. “It’s a miracle we’re even this far! Now let’s wait for that excuse for a guard to pass… then take off these collars and bolt like our lives depend upon it. Because they do!”
Morlekai clenched his jaw, then nodded, all four staying perfectly still, gazing anywhere but at the sneering guard glaring into their oversized cage while they looked at the ceiling in despair.
“You fuckers are going to get what you deserve,” snarled the guard in a strange accent, the man free of any armaments beyond a polymer-reinforced jacket and a T-1 Blaster at his hip.
He grinned wickedly, spat on Drake, and continued his loose patrol.
Morlekai took a measuring breath, before gazing at the innocent looking bunny, nibbling grass by their feet. Even though no grass was actually growing there.
“Exit plan?”
The rabbit spat out the grass. “Fucking disgusting. And don’t give me that look! I’ll eat carrots. I like carrots. And steak. And eclairs. But no fucking grass. Now check your interface maps.”
Alice scowled. “We don’t have...wait!” Her eyes widened with wonder. “We do… how?”
“You can ask Eric. Later. The green dots are good, the red dots are bad. See the blinking yellow line I just put down? We’re going to race that path through the warehouse district as fast as we can. At the end is a gate where Grim is waiting for us.”
Drake whistled. “So, this is what a map interface looks like? I can just put it up in the corner of my eye like a game map? Sweet!”
“Very. You guys ready? We’ll go just as soon as—”
The warehouse rang with a sudden clarion of alarm bells.
“Fuck. Time’s up! Okay, we gotta run NOW!”
Bunbun hopped for the cage door, slamming it open with a surprisingly powerful kick.
Morlekai exchanged a look with his sister as Drake and Louie groaned while quickly pulling their bruised frames free of the last of the restraints.
In less than two seconds they were out the cage as well, surrounded by a swarm of crimson crows.
“They’re escaping! The prisoner’s are escaping!”
“The collars!”
“No good, they’re free.”
“Kill them!”
The four wasted no time, for all that Alice and Louie exchanged horrified looks.
“Fuck, they really were going to kill us no matter what we. Aargh!”
“Drake!”
Blaster fire rang out. “Got one of those...no!”
“FRAGOR!”
“Drake!”
“I got him!” Louie quickly said, grabbing his injured friend, spurting blood from his rear. “Come on, bro. It’s just a shot in your ass. You’re fucking lucky! Now move!”
The four raced forward, instinctively weaving as sporadic plasma fire streamed past, nearly tripping over a corpse missing the top of his head.
“What the fuck?”
“No time. Move!” Bunbun hissed, pointing with her ear at the hole in the warehouse. “Go. I’ll catch up!”
Alice’s eyes widened at the sight of crimson lightning flaring between the rabbit’s ears before long crackling bolts of death ripped through a pair of lightly armored men wielding blaster pistols.
“Sanguis Fulmen, motherfuckers!”
Alice grinned at the sight, despite the terror of the moment. She couldn’t help it. At least not until she saw the dread in the rabbit’s eyes.
“Power armored fucks are coming for us! We got to run!”
Alice’s heart was pounding. She didn’t waist time, spinning around the corner and shoving her lover and friend to MOVE as the doorway behind them erupted in a massive explosion of plasma fire.
“FUCK!” She screamed. “Morlekai, be careful! That thing could obliterate your swarm!”
“It’s fine, he’s ahead, let’s go!” Bunbun hissed, before glaring behind him.
The rabbit spun around, screamed “Mollet, roboro, sanguis, ventus, incurvo, attentio!” Then darted back around, racing ahead once more.
Alice blinked in surprise as a crimson dome of force shimmered around their party, or the rabbit in particular, that she strove to keep up with. “You just summoned a blood shield! How? What level are you?”
“Underlord! Borrowing my master’s power! I have no idea if it will even work! Now come on, go, go, go!”
Alice didn’t hesitate to do just that, Louie finally picking up a groaning Drake who was bleeding from his wound so much that Alice had to choke back tears even as they darted left behind a long alleyway, racing through the trash and mud for all they were worth before taking a sharp left turn at the alley’s end, then leaping through an abandoned warehouse window, weaving past heaps of rusting car parts before tearing out the far doorway, panting for breath in the fog as they raced across an empty street before darting between another pair of warehouses, racing across another alleyway.
Alice’s eyes lit with hope. “I can feel it. A rift is nearby. We’re close!”
The rabbit pumped her fist. “Yes! Okay, we turn right and it’s at the end of the… FUCK!”
Alice’s heart quailed when a massive giant in power armor, holding a plasma rail gun, stomped into view.
“Target acquired, sir!” The awful voice echoed through the air as the rabbit screamed her frustration.
“Execute.”
“Done.”
The air flashed with brilliant plasma.
Alice screamed, then was breathless and stumbling when a gigantic flash of something punched right through her chest.
“FRAGOR!”
Alice felt her own eye burst as Louie cried out, yet she still managed a pained smile when the massive armored bastard’s face plate splattered with crimson from the inside as the asshole collapsed in a heap.
“Oh fuck, I was too close to you!” The rabbit sobbed.
Voices grew tinny and faint after that, Alice barely tracking her brother’s scream as they raced over the fallen mercenary, but the alley they jumped into was even hotter. Plasma firing everywhere as the rabbit screamed out another chant and now it was Louie, her dear, sweet Louie who was racing through literal plasma fire to bring her and Drake into the far alley, and she could sense Morlekai’s crows being shredded... But it was too late. She knew that just like she knew that all her enemy’s perks had honed in on one deadly, undeniable truth.
She was already dead.
Whether or not her unbelievable friend’s familiar had actually managed to take out a Bronze-tier merc herself didn’t change the fact that the fucker had actually managed to blast open her heart.
“Grim, help me!”
The poor little rabbit’s panicked cry was the last thing Alice heard before the blackness of oblivion claimed her… just as she was tossed into the shimmering portal that would have saved them all, if they could have arrived just a handful of seconds sooner.
***
Selma rushed to the ruptured wall, slipping past the power armored mercenaries in a swirl of shadow, glaring down at the giant warehouse interior and the rapidly fleeing captives. “That’s his familiar! That fucking rabbit’s his familiar!”
“Whose familiar?”
“Ernest Edgelord! He’s here!” Selma’s eyes grew wide with panic. “Sound the alarms, fools! He’s fucking here! And he’s springing them out and we don’t know where he is. He could be anywhere!”
“That’s true,” said the voice behind her as the air crackling with the hum of elements screaming in terrible unison. “He could be absolutely anywhere.”
The girl flinched. “Shit!” She spun around and stumbled back, gazing into emerald green eyes and a hideously wide smile that promised unspeakable things even as their owner held a sword that blazed with crimson flame.
“Bloodfire,” she whispered.
“No! No fucking way! I had you coll—”
Valter blinked as the mithril collar and cuffs fell away, smoke emanating from those instruments of torment.
“Yeah, I figured those out long ago.” The redhead, now sheathed in mithril armaments with a cuirass that seemed so solid and real that the entire chamber seemed little more than a transient dream in comparison. He smirked, saluting them with all his mithril sword. “Shall we?”
“Die!” Valter roared as he fired his weapon, the air lighting up with the brilliant flare of plasma. Then he scowled, glaring at the smoking mass of floorboards and wall paneling catching on fire, where his target had been standing. “Where the fuck did he—”
“Valter!” Selma cried warning when she saw the grinning redhead popping into existence right behind the confused merc.
“Valter, look out—NO!” She screamed and stumbled back when the four-foot-long crimson blade caressed her friend’s armored throat like a lover’s caress and Valter’s head was sent tumbling of his shoulders in a shower of blood, the ruined power armor crackling and smoking as the suit stiffened and toppled over.
“No. No fucking way, you can’t cut through—Alfred!”
She screamed with dismay when a roaring Alfred’s plasma stream was cut off by their red-headed opponent suddenly snapping into sight right in front of the mercenary, before effortlessly tearing the plasma cannon free of Alfred’s struggling grip.
“No, no… that’s bullshit!” The man roared his panic. “You aren’t that strong! No Earth native’s that strong! You’re no fucking Silver!”
“You sure about that, Alf?” The Contender that could only be Ernest quipped. “I did tear Song’s front gate off the hinges, after all.”
Alfred snarled, and for a heartbeat, a frozen Selma dared to feel hope, seeing the vibroblade her lover was preparing to stick into that bastard at that very moment.
Selma’s heart was pounding, her scythe screaming with death’s promise as the air itself bled before cutting Shadow as she slipped through the air so effortlessly, her sense of time finally speeding up like it did when she fully embraced her element, which meant that she could see it so clearly, when her man lashed out with his vibro-blade, sticking it DEEP into that asshole’s kidney, and now it was time for her to STRIKE!
She blinked in surprise when the air screamed with the shattering of a vibro-blade.
“Wait, it didn’t—”
Her own thoughts cut off when her target disappeared, scythes streaking through the air that bled drops of shadow with their passing, yet touched nothing at all. “What the—”
She was blinded by a sudden brilliant flash of freezing flame so cold that she felt like she had just been kicked from a steamy bathtub into a snowdrift.
She wheezed, unable to breathe. An instant later, an explosion of blazing frost washed all her pain away.
***
You have successfully slaughtered multiple Bronze Tier opponents!
Eve approves of your battles!
You have gained two levels as a Cultivator!
Phoenix Strike!
You have successfully Bisected your prey!
Frozen shrapnel explodes in the direction you desire, for Ice knows its master!
You have completely obliterated the roof and back wall of: Ruined warehouse.
You have used a Higher Order attack against a Contender attempting to slice through your spine with the essences of Shadow and Sharpness.
Level playing field achieved.
Eve approves of your battle!
You have earned one additional level as a cultivator!
You are now a Rank 65 DEATH’S DISCIPLE (Four Seasons Cultivator).
3rd Tier Core Saturation is now at 91.57%
Eric wanted to shout for joy. He had earned three full cultivation levels in a single fight! Then his manic euphoria abruptly faded, recalling all too well the look of surprised confusion in the face of a girl that could so easily have been a classmate. Maybe even a friend, in another time and place, had the horror of the post apocalypse and being forced to do whatever it took to survive, reveling in any and every darkness that gave one a fighting chance, not so utterly consumed her.
“Stop it,” he whispered to himself. “If I hadn’t known how to master that collar, infusing it with the essence of fire and my own blood…” He glared down at instruments of death and torment so similar to the ones that had made his first trip down to these parts while under the tender mercy of gnolls and goblins such a living hell.
Then he was hit with it, the glorious surge of potency and power shuddering through him as a new interface message caressed his throbbing skull.
You have slain Selma Smith! Level 72 White Tier Shadow Mistress
You have successfully claimed: 6 Strength / 8 Vitality / 8 Finesse / 8 Quickness / 7 Perception / 10 Arcane Potential / 5 Spiritual Energy / 5 Soul Reserves.
Eric allowed himself a single shudder of sweetest pleasure, both relieved to find that this latest encounter wouldn’t force his Spiritual Energy stat any lower, and quite surprised to find that his opponent had actually had a decent spiritual energy pool for a White-Tier classer here on Earth. Yet he still regretted the loss of what might have been an upright cultivator, maybe even a future student of Richard’s academy… if things hadn’t played out the way that they had.
He spared only a moment to claim the bodies and their toys, mystical scythes that radiated potent spiritual energy, as well as suits of power armor and Mark III sniper rifles that most definitely did not.
Yet Eric took no more than a moment to claim his prizes before immediately focusing on what really mattered, checking his map interface and triangulating the handful of greens struggling to retreat.
His smile froze when he sensed the handful of reds rapidly closing in on his friends. Reds piercing what should have been confusing mists far too easily and somehow knowing just where to set up an ambush to strike his friends. Which mean they were all Bronze elites with specialized skills, and probably in powered armor, or at least being led by their armored elites.
His heart jack-hammered, sensing his friends’ weakness, and their peril.
“I’m coming, Bunz!” Eric roared aloud and in his mind.
“Better hurry, fearless leader! The fog isn’t throwing them off. Enemy tracking skills must be in play. Fuck!”
His familiar’s panic twisted his gut in knots as Eric raced right through the air, turning in the direction he sensed his friends winding through the maze of alleyways and collapsed warehouses.
“Oh shit, we’re surrounded!”
Eric’s eyes widened with pain that wasn’t his own.
“No!”
He howled. “Grim!” even as he desperately raced for his target, sensing the handful of reds and his friends who suddenly blinked out of existence.
“NO!”
Eric howled, heart pounding with fury as his guts twisted with panic, and now he was over the alley where his friends had—
Then he saw it. The trio of power armored mercenaries holding their still smoking plasma cannons, glaring at the gate.
“Sir, they jumped through! Our armor doesn’t work in regio! Requesting orders to—What the fuck!?”
The man radiated surprise even through his power armor when the air echoed with a furious roar. The mercenaries spun around to hone in on their target, their chrome plated armor grinding against the blacktop as they pivoted around so damned slowly… before they were struck by a howling force that sent them all slamming through the nearby warehouses in an explosion of rubble and steel beams.
You have successfully Charged into your foes! Speed Racer Synergism detected! Inertial Transference in effect! Burst of Strength in effect! Physical Resistance of 609 in effect!!
You have managed to knock all 3 of your targets off their feet.
You have sent 3 targets flying off at Mach III, full inertial transference in effect!
You have successfully ruptured 2 sets of Power armor.
You have successfully shattered multiple bones in all three of your opponents!
***
The air crackled with static as a tinny groan was muffled by the pile of rubble bearing its owner.
“P-4 Do you copy! P-4 Have you made contact with the target?”
“Sir…”
“P-4! Status!”
“I think we were hit by artillery, sir!”
“Wait… how? No orc 24-pounders are pointed your way!”
“I don’t know, sir.” The whispery voice wheezed for breath, before giving a wracking cough. “I think it was a high velocity round, sir. My systems are all down, save for comms. I think… I think I’m hurt pretty badly,” the man wheezed. “I can’t access the emergency stim patch. Please send help.”
“P-4 Hold your status. We’re sending help your way now.”
The wounded mercenary didn’t bother responding, just wheezing for breath when the rubble that had been pinning him was shifted, his power armor basically a heavy empty shell that could provide no mechanical aid whatsoever.
His breathing picked up, heart rate increasing.
“Hello? Hello? Sergeant Crisp, is that you? Please. I’m here. I’m right here!” The broken man choked back a sob, his wheezing voice so faint that few were likely to hear it.
A second later and the last of the rubble had been lifted off of him.
The man blinked and squinted in the bright light, lips curved in a smile of desperate relief even as he coughed up fresh blood.
Then he blinked in confusion. “You’re not Sergeant Crisp.”
Eric flashed a very toothy smile.
A smile that stretched hideous and wide in unnatural directions.
The man shuddered and screamed. “No, no, no, please!”
Eric tilted his head curiously. “Begging? So, did begging stop your blaster fire when you cut down my friends?”
“I was just following orders!” The man sobbed. “Please… please don’t kill m—!”
His voice was cut off when Eric placed his finger on the man’s trembling lips.
“Shh… You’re Bronze. You’re embarrassing yourself.” He winked. “And I have a special present for you. See that gate? Instead of me devouring you, body and soul, you get to go through that gate. Isn’t that nice?”
The man paled, eyes widening with horror. “Your friends went through that gate.”
Eric dipped his head. “Yes. Yes they did. And I’m pretty sure they’re feeling kinda… what’s the word I’m looking for? Famished. Yeah. That fits.”
“They’re vampires!”
Eric’s cold laughter washed over the man. “Bingo!” He then hoisted the man up, ignoring his plaintive struggles and screams. “Oh, but don’t worry about the power armor. You won’t be needing that. There, don’t you feel better?”
“You pulled me right out of my armor!”
“Yes, I did.”
The terrified looking man, unable to even stand on his own two broken legs, began to wail as Eric coldly marched over to the shimmering black portal as a certain distinguished gentleman stepped through.
The tall Moor’s eyes lit up with approval at seeing the offering Eric had in hand.
“Wonderful, Eric! My descendants were rather gravely injured in that altercation. This one will do much to make amends.”
Eric’s lips tightened with dismay, both of them ignoring the man’s panicked writhing.
“No, no, please!”
“Will they be okay?” Eric quietly asked.
Grim’s features took on a worried cast. “In truth, Eric, they’ll need more blood. Quite a bit more. As rich and as filled with potency as possible.”
Eric’s lips pressed in an anxious line. He dipped his head in acknowledgment of what needed to be done. “Understood. I’ll be right back.”
Wasting no further time, Eric left the doomed man in Grim’s care, racing where his blinking interface showed one red stationary… and the other rapidly fleeing.
His gut clenched. As easy as it would be to tag the one nearby… Grim had made it clear that his friends needed all the potency rich blood he could get.
“Bunbun. Status report.”
“Eric! Thank fuck! Even with your skills, I’m barely holding these idiots together! Get more blood, Eric. All the blood you can!”
Eric’s worry turned to full blown panic. “FUCK!”
The air suddenly rang with the distant explosions of high tech weaponry and the howls of what could only be the most feral of beasts.
Clearly, Mord had taken the bait… and now he had come to collect.