So that was the infamous Shao Kahn, eh? As the lifestream vision faded away, and Nadia’s surroundings returned, she worked to burn the warlord’s visage into her memory. At the end of her tournament road stood a musclebound warrior adorned with a horned skull helmet, his reptilian red-orange eyes blazing within that ferocious facemask, the chip on his shoulder so massive that the catgirl could practically see it. At first glance, he didn’t look like much; though impressive, neither his physique nor his stature seemed superhuman. No matter how much bravado she showed to others, though, Nadia knew better than to underestimate him. With how Esaka and especially the Mortal Kombat tournament worked, Shao Kahn could only have gained his position through a deadly combination of sheer strength and inhuman cruelty. It would be days before she even got the chance to challenge him, but it would probably be worth her while to actually study up on him beforehand.
Right now, though, she needed to focus on her first opponent. With how Purge and Ssapo both looked and acted, Nadia struggled to take them seriously. Still, even if this was only the first step in a long race, she’d be in for a bad time if she tripped off the starting line. It was time to show these cyborgs what she and Robo were made of.
Showtime.Nadia turned toward her foes, side-facing, with one hand on her hip and the other extended. Beside her, Robo-fortune rotated her joints, then clenched her fists, sending electric sparks dancing across her chassis. With a flashy grin Nadia sharpened her nails into claws. “Do nyaat take this purr-sonally!”
With a nasty laugh, Purge spun up his rotors, then unleashed streams of flame from the flamethrowers built into their centers. He cast them into the air in a menacing pyrotechnic display, while Ssapo just gnashed his metal teeth. “You won’t be smiling when I’m done with you!” Purge declared.
As both Kameo fighters backed off, the power of the Heavenly Principles welled up through the arena to take the form of glowing golden letters in the air.
ROUND ONE: FIGHT!“Robo, laze ‘em!”
Nadia called out her partner first thing, prompting Robo-fortune to somersault in from the sidelines. At the same time, Purge was already making his first move, using his rotators as propellers to pull him across the stage at high speed. Unfazed, Robo crossed her arms and unleashed a
heavy Theonite Beam with a deadpan, “Beeeeam.” Purge’s reckless charge resulted in a face full of pink plasma that buffeted him strong enough to throw him flat on his back.
CLANG!Well before the beam died down as Robo pulled back, Nadia was on her way. She sprinted across the polished stone floor on all fours, quickly closing the distance as Purge scrambled to get to his feet. Once in a crouching position, he put up his metallic dukes, anticipating a low attack. He did not expect the crazed catgirl to run up and overhead right off the cuff. She sprang up and, scarcely having left the ground, immediately thrust out a
light kick to dome Purge right in the red symbol on his forehead. “Gotcha!” She bent forward to follow up with a quick
Claws for Alarm, then an airdash done by blasting blood backwards, which allowed her to land another Claws for Alarm from behind. Finally, Nadia pulled off a somersault in order to bring the hammer down with an
El Gato axe kick that bounced Purge off the ground just before she herself touched down. “Paw-ty time!”
With her opponent helpless in hitstun, Nadia kept the pain train rolling with the first two claw slashes of her
Cat Scratch rekka. When she attempted to combo into one of Ángel’s unchain starters, though, Purge slipped from her grasp, flipped out, and landed right in front of her as her upward punch hit nothing but air. “Crap!” Luckily, Purge wasn’t exactly ready for this outcome either, and his first instinct was just to throw her. He clamped down one massive rotor-hand on Nadia’s torso, lifted her up while spinning her, then sent her tumbling with a point-blank fireblast.
“Oof!” Nadia hit the ground once, then rolled onto her feet. She found Purge already on his way with another propeller dash, and reflexively woke up with her tried-and-true
Fiber Upper reversal, only to be reminded that her high mule kick had lost its armor thanks to her fusion with Ángel. “Damn it!” Purge’s rotors cleaved through her attempted counterstrike to knock her hyper-extended legs askew, and when he followed through with a revolving lariat, her limbs flew off in different directions.
Gritting her teeth with a smile, Nadia improvised. She spun around in a handstand, first blinding Purge with a spray of blood to the face, then slapping him with her tail to prompt a high guard. “Go into de-tail!” Then she whirled like a breakdancer, extending cords of muscle fiber like grappling hooks to attach to her fallen legs and snap them back into place. “I’ll break my limb-its!” Just as Purge shook off the blood, Nadia hit him low with a sweeping
low spin strike. She knew it’d be a tricky conversion, but the feral connected with
Ear Piercing anyway, pulling her head out of her hood to strike with ears hardened into spikes. When she whipped around to try another unchain starter, this time a heel kick, she realized that Ear Piercing had knocked Purge out of her reach and dropped her combo again. “Oh, fur Pete’s sake-!”
This time, Purge punished with a low kick, prop shredder, and arced flame spray that left her sizzling. “Hah! You’re rustier than Ssapo!” Speaking of the devil, Ssapo rushed in to slam her down with a double ground pound as she fell away from Purge’s flames. The Kameo’s hefty blow drove the wind from her lungs as it floored her, but the combo ended there, so with an annoyed groan Nadia rolled to her feet. By then Purge had taken to the skies with the rotor on his back, and as Nadia watched he flew her way, his raucous laughter filling the air as his flamethrowers spewed downward in a fiery bombing run.
She ran and dove out of the way, barely avoiding a flame bath as Purge left the arena ablaze and flew a dozen feet out over the water. As she sprang up, her eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. “Hey wait, isn’t that out of bounds?” She glanced at Robo-fortune, her indignant expression demanding an answer, but her doppelganger just shrugged. “Well, get him!” Robo obliged, and as Purge turned around, he took a medium Theonite Beam to the chest. He lost control and plummeted toward the water with a grunt of surprise, prompting a big grin and fist pump from Nadia. Much to her chagrin, though, the cyborg caught himself mere inches above the pool’s surface, his propeller arms so close to the water beneath him that they sent ripples in all directions.
“Oh, come on!” Nadia sprinted forward as Purge hovered back over the stage, desperate to avoid a disqualification. The pilot lights in his robotic palms blazed blue, so Nadia knew more flame was coming her way. She leaped into the air to avoid his fireballs, then
spiked her own head down at him. Purge landed and used his bulky arms to block the makeshift projectile, which bounced off and fell to the ground, then extended his spinning rotors to anti-air Nadia’s body as she double jumped toward him. Instead her detached head
chomped on his ankle. “I chews you!” she cried, her voice muffled. Purge yelped as Nadia’s body descended with another axe kick to start up the round-ending combo. With his back to the water and his guard opened up, victory seemed all but assured.
“SSAPO!”
In an instant, the green meanie was by his fellow cyborg’s side. With a giant wallop Ssapo broke Nadia’s combo before it even really began, sending her flying back with a yowl. Purge took flight at low altitude and dashed forward, immediately putting distance between himself and the stage’s edge. Nadia sank her claws into the stone and slid to a stop on all fours, furious. “Killjoy!” her detached head yelled. “Take it like a man!”
“Take THIS!” With the help of his back rotor Purge twirled forward like a ballerina, spraying fire in a huge spiral to cover the arena in flaming fuel.
With her head in serious danger, Nadia pressurized her legs, then launched upward in a blood-assisted superjump. “Robo!” Her Kameo leaped up after her, then opened her chest to fire off another Theonite Laser at a downward angle. The
radiant laser struck Purge head-on, cutting his infernal mayhem short, and the next second Nadia carved through the pink beam as a yellow lightning bolt with Charge. Her headless body rematerialized behind her opponent as he began to fall over, popped him up with a
backward high kick to the spine, then leaped up in a backflip that ended in a double electric stomp to Purge’s chest. Sparks flew as the impact cratered him into the arena, and when he failed to rise, the Heavenly Principles declared that round one belonged to Nadia.
MS FORTUNE WINS.
“Hah!” The feral stepped away to grab her head and pop it back into her head. Although she couldn’t see anyone she knew nearby, she hoped that Annie and maybe Primrose were still watching. Robo did not look terribly impressed, but she didn’t look disappointed, either. Nadia grinned at her opponent as he came to his senses. “Way to go, helicop-twerp. That was actually purr-etty a-mew-sing!”
Groaning, Purge shook his head and picked himself up. “Laugh while you still can. This isn’t over yet!”
With a grave expression, Band withdrew from the lifestream, the image of the Four Kings atop their ivory tower fading from view. He’d already heard plenty about Esaka’s overlords during his investigation, but seeing them so close he felt practically face-to-face with them was something else. As amazing as the magic that coursed through this city was, each little miracle was just another cog in the machine that ground countless proud fighters into fuel for Moebius. At his age, and with his current fighting prowess, Band did not have high hopes about winning the tournament and wiping that hideous smile off Bison’s face himself, but he would not hesitate to do his part.
Still, even as he steeled himself for battle, the detective couldn’t help but wonder about the Four Kings’ words. Shao Kahn and Rugal said little of import, but Heihachi referenced the attack on Banish Flats last night directly, happily laying the blame at Kazuya’s feet and kicking off a bounty hunt. Whether or not anyone could actually physically bring Heihachi the head of Kazuya didn’t really matter. Unless it too was misdirection, the announcement meant that the Four Kings -and by extension, Moebius- might not be to blame for the onslaught after all.
Bison, meanwhile, mentioned an attempt on his life. Had the would-be assassin failed last night, or actually succeeded, only to realize now that Bison’s death didn’t take? Either way, the perpetrator probably hadn’t been a Seeker, not after Xilgrev’s words of warning at lunch yesterday. Then again, Band reasoned, it could have been a Seeker who hadn’t been there, like Junior, Rika, or Juri. The matter definitely warranted further investigation, but before he could look into it, Band needed to deal with the problem right in front of him.
Band and Rasputin locked eyes, the former’s narrowed in a scrutinous manner, the latter’s half-lidded with amusement. Golden letters soaked up from the floor to begin the match, and just like that, the fight was on.
“Giant Step!” Right away, Band deployed a
huge drum pedal to knock his opponent down. Unfortunately, Rasputin just so happened to try a jump-in first thing. If Band had been more patient, an anti-air with Beat Extend would have been easy, but now he faced a fireball cast from a magic orb between the sorcerer’s hands. It splashed against his shoulder, close enough that he could feel its heat on his cheeks, and as he stumbled backward Rasputin landed in front of him.
He raised a hand as if to slap Band, albeit too far away for him to reach, until some sort of yellow energy surrounded his hand and created a huge, tire-sized mitt. The resulting slap caught Band by surprise, though he managed to raise his guard in time to block the following backhand and a big slap from Rasputin’s other hand as well. For his forth strike the sorcerer went for a massive
overhand slap, but this time the blow clashed against Band’s cymbal, deployed lickety-split to effectively parry the attack. “Uh huh.” The detective struck back with a
double low trombone, then a
trombone knee to leave Rasputin aloft. He followed his foe into the air to soften him up with a tambourine
Jelly Roll followed by a
clarinet spike downward. “Gimme a hit!” A good old-fashioned
Brass Knuckle ended the short but sweet combo by hurtling Rasputin away, closer to the stage’s edge.
“My, my!” Rasputin righted himself quickly, and as Band approached one big dash at a time, he launched a fireball. “Come, fire!” Band had to stop to block it, but by the time he got moving again, his opponent had already jumped backward and launched another downward fireball in the air. “Come, fire!” Yet again, the detective had to cut his advance short, and Rasputin used the brief window to launch another spell. “Thunder!” This time he wound up like a pitcher, then hurled an electric orb that clashed against Band’s block several times before fizzling out.
By now Rasputin had reached the edge of the arena and couldn’t retreat anymore, but when Band tried to close the gap with Brass Knuckle, Rasputin just leaped over him and took advantage of the detective’s recovery by retreating the other way. “Ice ball!” When Band turned around and dashed forward, he got interrupted by a projectile that froze him solid for a moment, just long enough for another fireball to thaw him out. He grimaced, his lip curled at Rasputin. “We doin’ this already?” he grumbled.
“Sorry–you’re just too easy a target!” Rasputin shrugged as he wound up another pitch. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to love it!”
This time, Band leaped over the lightning orb. It took some doing to get his huge frame off the ground, but it effectively bypassed Rasputin’s spell. The sorcerer raised an eyebrow and continued to retreat, changing up his cast timing a little, but Band adapted his jump timing to compensate. After another few seconds, Rasputin ran out of room. Band now had to make a guess as to what his foe would do next, and without a moment’s hesitation he placed his bet.
Band slid forward with the momentum of a Brass Knuckle, then stopped himself short with Emergency Break in order to launch
Beat Extend. Rasputin, meanwhile, bet everything on his own reversal, an empowered series of cossack kicks that carried him into the air. Band’s armor absorbed the hit, and the next second his giant tambourine halves slammed together on Rasputin’s torso, where an uproarious shake of the tambourine left him dizzy from sound stun.
When the sorcerer fell, Band let loose the standard combo he’d practiced last night. He crouched and caught his foe with a tiny oboe extended up from his foot, blasted him with
Bass Drop, then buoyed him up with a
saxophone strike. From there, he followed Rasputin into the air to land two soundblasts from his lateral caps, then a
five hundred pound dropkick. He fell, then teched forward when he hit the ground, gaining enough distance to hit Rasputin off the ground with his double trombone thrust, launch a light Brass Knuckle, then cancel into his level one Blockbuster
Super Sonic Jazz. “Horn crush!” He bulled forward as a giant french horn, carrying Rasputin with him. With no stage corner for his foe to bounce off of, the sorcerer simply went flying even after Band himself slid to a stop, and the next moment Rasputin splashed into the drink.
RING OUT declared the Heavenly Principles.
BIG BAND WINSBand watched, ready to help if need be, as Rasputin climbed out of the water. He was breathing heavily, but fresh energy surged through his veins, and the same went for Band. “The world is full of obvious things,” he taunted. Though not normally one to showboat, anyone who tried and somehow failed to zone him out probably deserved it.
“Oho, getting cocky, are we?” Smiling, Rasputin wrung the water out from his robe, then pressed his palms together and created a handful of flashing lights. “Looks like it’s time to heat things up!”
Mere moments after the Four Kings’ announcement concluded, the anticipatory energy that coursed through the entirety of the Pools tier was unleashed, and the fighters launched into action. Each raft, bridge, island, and platform became a battleground where two or more duelists vied for supremacy. Some fights were quick and chaotic scrambled as aggressive fighters slugged it out, while other exchanges were controlled and calculated by masters who claimed and defended their territory with potent projectiles and precise footwork. In Mortal Kombat matches, Kameo fighters leaped into the fray to apply extra pressure, extend combos, or save their partners’ skin, while King of Fighters matches saw three one-on-ones conducted simultaneously. The Pools had become a sea of highs and lows, mixups and setups, ring outs and time outs, American resets, Mexican uppercuts, and Korean backdashes.
To an outsider, it might look like sheer madness, but there was indeed a method to it. In fact, thanks to the Heavenly Principles, just about every last thing that these vast and varied fighters could -and couldn’t- do in these tournaments was strictly defined and controlled, even if the duellists themselves didn’t realize it. This delicate and sometimes fluid balance, painstakingly maintained and adjusted, was struck in the name of fairness–in the name of healthy competition, without which fights were but violence. It was something that even Moebius, who sought to bend everything to their will, could not control.
Yet even if she could not control it, it was something that the masked woman in red, who now stood at the railing on the edge of Esaka’s middle tier, could still appreciate. Along with a handful of Esaka citizens who spectated in a similar manner, she stared down at the Pools to watch the matches therein, her imperial gaze lingering on any that happened to catch her fancy. None of the Four Kings had descended from the Top Tier to observe the Pools alongside her; even if they could teleport like she could, they had better things to do. This part of the tournament was beneath them, both physically and metaphorically. Only on Sunday could the lucky few who reached the coveted Top 8 expect any King to spectate in person. Yet the Lady Consul watched nonetheless. Was she here for petty amusement, or did another reason demand her presence? With her face veiled behind that distinctive helmet of hers, it was impossible to say.
Down below, on one of the many stone bridges elevated above the water that allowed pedestrians to navigate the Pools, the woman who’d been quietly gazing up at the Consul turned away and continued walking. She happened to be one of the few people in the tier not to fight, but to observe the fighters in action, be they amateurs trying their luck or masters thinning the herd. With dozens of matches unfolding before her in every direction, she was certainly spoiled for choice. She wandered through the maze of walkways at a leisurely pace, never stopping to watch any particular bout for more than a single round.
As she drifted around, looking here and there, passers-by (and even the more easily distracted fighters down on their stages) could be forgiven for looking back. After all, this woman happened to be an exceptional beauty. Her sunglasses and pale skin suggested a sensitivity to sunlight, and her vivid indigo hair, worn in a huge braid that reached her calves, swung behind her as she walked. She rocked an elaborately patterned lavender Japanese kimono, worn just off the shoulder and with a short enough skirt to elicit plenty of admiring looks. Her huge sleeves and coattails gave her outfit a regal, flowing quality, aided by her getup’s pale gold ornamentation, especially on the purple jewel that adorned her burgundy sash. Yet, despite her obvious beauty, wealth, and status, she walked around with neither escort nor weapon at her side, seemingly content to flit around like any ordinary spectator.
At the moment, this
elegant lady happened to be meandering through the World Warrior section of the Pools tier, seemingly ignorant of any attention that might come her way. She paused to observe Harry’s narrow victory over a mass-produced Combot, then not long after, admired the decisive finish of Grima’s match against Danny. The dragon vessel’s braggadocious taunt to her opponent after immersing him brought a brief but radiant smile to the lady’s face as she prepared to move on.
Once the ground team breached into Sector 2, it quickly became clear that fighting through Raphael Space Center would be no cake walk. A variety of Skullhead warriors crowned by vile, skull-faced cephalopods arrived en masse, simultaneously tough and numerous enough to pose a serious threat to the Seekers and their stagecoach. The heroes were ready for action, though, and as they rallied to their ride’s defense, the expedition’s biggest battle yet began.
As usual, Sandalphon chose to support from the rear, taking the high ground atop the stagecoach with Vault. A quick head count revealed thirty-six Skullheads, three for each Seeker currently present, plus a little extra. No two mutated corpses looked exactly alike, or bore identical weapons, but enough looked similar that Sandalphon could categorize them into three groups: thirteen scrappy Skull Fighters, eleven ranged Skull Gunners, and ten heavy Skull Troopers.
Their numbers advantage wasn’t quite as significant as it might first appear, however, with Edward’s minions in play. Using his golems, hybrids, and other underlings, the strategist quickly assembled a defensive line to stop the tide of Naytibas before it could sweep over the stagecoach and its Shieldrix pullers. They weren’t just cannon fodder, either; with a variety of physical and elemental abilities up their sleeves, Edward’s supernatural squadron could get the Skullheads’ attention and do appreciable damage. With his forces around to slow down the enemy onslaught, the rest of the Seekers could divide and conquer.
From her vantage point on the stagecoach’s roof, Sandalphon supported the front line, eschewing most of her abilities in favor of honed marksmanship. She plugged away at the Naytibas with mechanical regularity and precision, and each semi-automatic cast of her Hexagun hit its mark. Though the Skullings effectively shielded their hosts’ heads, preventing any extra damage from headshots, each miniature arcane crater left in their rugose, mucus-ridden skin would make the cephalopods that much easier to eliminate once their host bodies crumbled beneath them. For once, lady luck was on the archangel’s side as well, since it did not take her long to find out that if a shot from her Hexagun procced a polymorph, each Skullhead counted a single unit that the lucky shot could transform. Sandalphon managed to reduce three Naytibas to mundane chickens that way, which she left to be trampled in the surrounding melee as she moved on to her next target.
In the midst of her sharpshooting, Sandalphon did make use of one ability: the power granted by her fusion with Azure. Whenever too many Skullheads clustered together, she made sure to manifest a Cerulean Mirage in their midst. Then, whether it distracted the Naytibas or not, she nailed her bright blue doppelganger with a headshot to trigger a diamond-shaped explosion. That brilliant blast inevitably scattered the surrounding Naytibas in all directions, softened up and stumbling. Each mirage also left a blue tile on the ground, which Sandalphon kept track of. She didn’t just shoot her enemies, though. With just a few dextrous adjustments, she could swap out her red Destruction spell bullets for orange Order spell bullets that could repair the Iron Golems (and even Plastic Walls) she fired at. That meant that even while saving her healing miracles for emergencies, the archangel could keep the stagecoach’s main line of defense in good condition.
Rather than immerse himself in the thick of it, Heismay stuck to one side of the dance floor, preferring like Geralt to circle around and pick off a couple foes from the skull mob’s flank. While the Witcher took on several at once, confident in his Quen shield and harpoon pile bunker, Heismay darted around the action to challenge a Skull Gunner slinging toxic globules over its allies’ squid-heads from a safe distance. “Face me!” As he ran, glowing orange lines streaked across his diminutive form, preceding his transformation into the Assassin. A well-aimed Mudo crashed into the mutant’s body, prompting its head to swivel in his direction. It swung its arm wide to hurl a big splash of sizzling poison, but Heismay reverted as he leaped into the air, easily clearing the toxic spray. His longsaber gleamed in the ambient light of the Space Center as he brought it down in an all-out overhead chop aimed at the Skulling itself. “Hyah!”
The gunner threw up its bloated right arm to defend its loathsome squid-head. Heismay’s blade cut through the deformed flesh to the bone, but no further. Now just inches away from the vile thing, Heismay recognized the gruesome swell of the mottled yellow cysts and averted his face just in the nick of time. When the poison sacs burst, his parka took the worst of it, and as the gunner swung its head-tentacles at him, he wrenched his blade free in order to block the blow and flip away. “Bah!” As he landed, his vision swam from close proximity to the noxious chemicals. “Hmph.” He ripped the parked off and tossed it away, his wings and big ears no longer restricted.
“Monstrous you may be,” he muttered, readying his blade as the gunner prepared to fire. “But beneath those mutations, that body of yours is still human!” He took off running, circling around as the Naytiba blasted off bile again and again. Each sticky stream missed him, and as he closed the distance, the gunner tried one last ditch attempt: a powerful ground pound from its right arm, strong enough to forcibly rupture all its remaining sacs at once and create a toxic geyser. But Heismay took to the air, flapping his wings to make his jump even higher and faster. He flipped over the gunner, landed behind it, and pivoted around with a lethal slice that cut through the pant legs and work boots to sever both achilles tendons at once. With an awful squeal, the gunner toppled backward onto the swordblade propped up beneath it, which pierced through the Skulling’s face and the wretched head beneath. Heismay nearly buckled beneath all the dead weight atop him, but with a heroic effort managed to shove the corpse off and onto the floor beside him.
It was then, as he stood catching his breath over the disintegrating body, that he heard Geralt’s shout. His ears went straight as his eyes widened, and he looked over his shoulder to see the Skulling he’d stabbed wriggling away toward another corpse, a trail of brownish ichor left in its wake. “Damn it!” he echoed, which got the attention of two Skull Fighters behind. Even as they came his way, Heismay turned tail to run down the Skulling and finish it off with a quick slash. As it squealed and died, he spotted the Skulling that eluded Geralt, bound for and nearly at the same cadaver that his own meant to claim. “Oh no.” He made to pursue it, but one of the Skull Fighters reached him just then, forcing him to dodge away to avoid a grisly strike to his back. That gave the rogue Skulling just enough time to sink its toothy tentacles into its new host, rapidly mutating it.
“Curses!” Now surrounded by three Naytibas, Heismay had no time to waste. He pivoted around as he became the Assassin to unleash a Lurking Nightblade. The bleak slash struck both fighters mid-tackle, cursing them with reduced dexterity. As his Archetype faded, Heismay took a deep breath, then charged. “No holds barred!” He knocked one poleaxe aside, then the other, turning back and forth between both opponents. The eugief became a whirlwind of steel as he slashed and parried, quickly racking up damage. Finally, one fighter went for broke with a massive horizontal sweep, followed shortly by a massive overhead smash from its partner. Heismay dove over the former, narrowly sidestepped the latter, then lopped off one of the offender’s overextended arms with a diagonal slash. He sprang, slicing not once but twice in the air, then as the other Naytiba stabbed at him, kicked off his first target’s Skulling to bounce upward. In its haste to impale its target, the fighter stabbed its fellow. Heismay then landed on the polearm’s shaft, grasped his longsaber with both hands, and decapitated the other skullhead with a full-force cleave. “GRAH!”
The Skulling fell to the ground and oozed away at top speed, but Heismay was ready. “No escape!” He leaped after it, inverted his blade, and plunged it into Naytiba’s body to end it once and for all.
Before Heismay could take stock of the situation, though, a jet of toxic fluid struck him in the back. He snarled in pain, whipping around to find the new Skull Gunner created by the Skulling that got away from Geralt. It raised its arm to fire again, only to be struck by a spell bullet from Sandalphon that nearly knocked it over. As it struggled to steady itself, a Cerulean Mirage appeared behind it, then took another shot and blew up. The force of the explosion sent the Naytibas skidding toward Heismay, who did not hesitate to take his revenge with as many slashes to the gunner’s Skulling as it took. When he looked over, he saw Sandalphon running his way, having abandoned her vantage point to take the battlefield herself. “What are you doing?”
“Finishing this.” Sandalphon took off running. By now, the other Seekers had made a lot of progress, but the enemy force had proven difficult to reduce. For every Skulling finished off, another got away to raise another host body and continue the fight. By now, the members of her team had spent the whole day on his or her feet, if not fighting. As everyone’s fatigue mounted, they made more mistakes and took more injuries. Unlike Belial, these skullheads weren’t going for the stagecoach; they were trying to kill the Seekers, and a battle of attrition would not favor any haggard heroes. Luckily, a prolonged battle allowed Sandalphon to create a lot of blue tiles, and now the archangel sprinted through the mayhem as fast as she could, her path carefully calculated to hit all the tiles as quickly as possible. She took a few glancing blows on the way, but Sandalphon fought through the pain, and as she reached the final tile she created another Cerulean Mirage, then fired her hexagun -which swirled with blue power- multiple times into the air.
The next moment, her Nitro Storm began. Brilliant blue bolts descended like arrows from heaven, thirty-six of them raining down across a diamond-shaped area. Her mirage followed suit with a smaller, more concentrated volley, and by the time the dazzling Nitro Storm finally finished, only smoking Skullings remained. Heismay and the others could wipe them out with ease, bringing the chaotic brawl to an end.
Using a scrap of cloth, the eugief let out a heavy sigh of relief as he began to clean his blade. “I am impressed,” he admitted.
“It was nothing,” Sandalphon affirmed. Though her sprint had been relatively short, she was breathing heavily, too. “The credit lies with all you who held the line for so long. I am grateful for your efforts.”
“Let us hope the other sectors are more lightly defended,” Heismay added forebodingly.
Noise from the center of the Raphael Space Center got their attention. With the Naytiba biomass cleared away, the space elevator was coming online. It seemed like Lily had worked her magic over in Sector 8. “I suppose ‘tis time for you to depart,” Heismary remarked.
Sandalphon nodded and made for the Sector 2 bridge along with anyone who wished to accompany her, bound for the lowest of the elevator’s three floors. Once the automatic door closed behind her, Edward and the rest of White Team who remained were left to navigate the rest of the space center on their own.
Aboard the lift, Sandalphon reunited with Adam, Eve, and Lily, who entered from the opposite side. “Ah, there you are.”
“Looks like you made it. And cleared off the contamination, to boot.” Eve flashed her an appreciative smile. “We’re lucky to have your team’s help.”
Lily nodded. “And now you get to come to space with us! I can’t wait to see it myself. Final pre-checks are good to go, so the lift should be starting up any minute now-”
As if on cue, the door to the lift’s stairwell slid open, and a somewhat
creepy looking robot in servant attire stepped in. “Good evening and welcome, passengers,” she greeted Sandalphon and the others in a tinny voice. “Preparations are complete, and the orbital elevator will begin its ascent in T-minus sixty seconds. Please help yourselves to a drink, take a seat, and enjoy the ride to your new home in the Colony.”
Sandalphon looked around the elevator’s first floor. Roughly circular in shape, it appeared to be a large lounge, with a long plush couch that ran along the side with an exterior window and other accommodations, including mini-fridges, beds, and even an aquarium. Not expecting such comfort in such a hostile facility, Sandalphon seated herself on the couch somewhat awkwardly. As the other chatted about their mission, she stared out of the window at the interior of the space center, and waited. “Now recording.”
After a few more moments, the whole three-tier structure began to rise. It lifted off smoothly, without any jolts or turbulence, then began to accelerate at an astonishing rate. In seconds Raphael Space Center was gone, replaced by a nighttime winter wonderland that extended for miles and miles. Then that too vanished as the elevator shot into the clouds, and scant seconds later, the impenetrable haze fell away to reveal a sea of dark clouds beneath a grand night sky. Despite her best efforts to stay calm, Sandalphon’s heart quickened with fear and exhilaration as she soared up, up, and away from the world she could make sense of, into an unfathomably vast unknown far beyond even her understanding.
♫
Sandalphon stared with empty pupils, mesmerized, through the elevator window as the landscape and atmosphere receded beneath her. In the dark of night, colors were indistinct, but she could see nodes of light like nerve clusters scattered across and beyond the murky, ring-shaped continent. In the distance she could see the glowing contour of the planet itself, highlighted baniridescent blue by the fleeing light of the sun. And beyond that radiant horizon lay the infinite, pitch black void of space. It was an inimitably marvellous sight, and a transcendental experience. No words could encapsulate what the passengers were seeing and feeling, even those who’d traversed space before, so they sat in spellbound silence until the orbital elevator finally began to slow down.
As the robotic attendant bid the passengers farewell, Sandalphon slowly stepped out of the lift structure through a newly-opened access tunnel, dazedly leaning on her gunstaff for support. Though Lily had scampered ahead in her excitement to see the space station, she returned once she saw the archangel lagging behind. “You alright? You went pretty quiet during the ride up.”
Sandalphon swallowed, then nodded. Her eyes wandered to Adam, who Eve was checking up on as well. The scavenger let out his breath slowly with a shake of his head. “I’m…fine. It’s just…a lot to take in, you know? Seeing the whole world laid out like that…it really makes you think. Gives you perspective on how small we all really are.” Chuckling, he smiled at Eve. “Of course, it’s probably old hat to you ladies, seeing as you’re from the colony and all.”
“Well, it’s true it’s not new to us,” Eve admitted. “But it’s still significant. To you two, it might feel like leaving your whole world behind. But to us, it feels…like coming home.” She looked away. “Let’s not get distracted, though. We still have a mission to do. Lily, where to from here?”
Right now everyone stood in a fairly clean-looking sci-fi interior, predominantly a stark white with color-coded subsections like a
supply room, an
infirmary, and an
armory. After looking around, the engineer consulted her equipment, and came away puzzled. “The Alpha signal…it’s kind of all over the place.” She tapped the screen a few times, then glanced down a hallway toward a violet-coded atrium with
eastern decor. “It’s strongest over there, though. The Central Core should be that way.”
Although part of Sandalphon wanted to explore this alien structure, despite her fear of the lifeless vacuum beyond its reinforced walls, it did not feel right to run off scavenging for loot while Eve and the others hastened toward a difficult battle. The archangel followed behind them as they proceeded down a windowed corridor, its glass sides providing ample view of the planet below. After a few more moments, the team reached the
Central Core, a sprawling atrium overrun with Naytiba contamination. In an instant Sandalphon’s trepidatious wonderment vanished, replaced by cold watchfulness. “Did we make it?” Eve asked, looking around.
“We did, but…” Lily pursed her lips as she double-checked her equipment. “There’s a strong electromagnetic field surrounding this place. It feels just like the eye of a hurricane.”
The lights flickered. A low, rumbling groan echoed through the huge chamber, the product of many voices. Sandalphon instantly thought of the Gravemind, though thankfully this sound was nowhere near as vast and ancient as that. She and Adam launched a scan at the same time, and in an instant both identified the source. “Up there!”
As everyone’s gaze turned upward, something detached from the nest of cancerous growths on the ceiling–a wriggling, pale mass. It fell to the floor the next moment where Sandalphon finally got a good look at it. Its lower half was a mess of whitish tentacles, malformed limbs, and mechanical augmentations, while its upper half seemed to be a bulbous mass of tarry, tormented faces, their pitch-black eyes and mouths agape as locks of dark hair sprouted up from between them. Above the biotechnological amalgamation floated something that disturbed Sandalphon even more: a blue ring of pulsing plasma, in the unmistakable shape of a halo.
“My goodness…” Lily breathed just before the monster’s many faces screamed, their hideous echo filling the room.
When Eve looked at it, though, her expression held more pity than horror. “W-what…what did you…” As she watched, the
Democrawler reached up with its one humanoid arm and pulled out a cable plugged into its head, which leaked black gunk all over the floor. “What have you done to yourself?”
Sandalphon glanced at her, taken aback.
As the twisted voices rang in her ears, Eve reached up and unfurled her swordblade. “I see. All that pain…” She stepped forward as Sandalphon and the others pulled back, her expression resolute. “I’ll put an end to it.”
After the Seekers’ victory over the Skullheads, and Sandalphon’s departure for the space elevator, the victors could regroup before pushing forward. There had been no irreplaceable losses, and the stagecoach hadn’t taken any damage that Edward or Ace could identify. Everyone was more or less healthy, although after such a pitched battle on top of a long day of exertion, their energy reserves were lower than ever. Heismay guessed that they would be setting up camp for the night soon after they left Spire 04 behind. Hopefully Edward’s drones could keep watch in lieu of any lookouts and permit everyone a full night’s rest.
Before the team could exit the Raphael Space Center, though, there were two more sectors to get through. Although not as overgrown with Naytiba biomass as the previous threshold, the faulty door to Sector 3 would take some muscle to get open. Fortunately, this expedition had plenty.
When they entered Sector 3, the heroes saw something strange. A handful of Naytibas, including both droids and Skullheads, was to be expected. The sight of them turning tail and fleeing the moment they laid eyes on the intruders was not. They retreated through the open door to Sector 4, which appeared to be more dimly lit. Heismay did not like it -that place had ‘ambush’ written all over it- but after that last fight against almost three dozen Naytibas, no Seeker felt overly threatened. These monsters were little more than beasts, so why would an even stronger force be waiting in reserve? As long as they were cautious and made sure that they could retreat into the more open, well-lit space of Sector 3 if necessary, they should be able to continue along this pace toward the space center’s exit.
Inside the dimly-lit sector, the Seekers found a couple more Naytibas, but not many. Less than a dozen total, they hung back against the wall and in the dark corners, not in the manner of lurking predators but fearful prey. They were not alone though. Directly in front of the Sector 5 door sat a pile of scrap crudely fashioned into a huge, heavy chair, and on that throne sat a huge figure, its exact features and proportions obscured. It held something in its hand, roughly the size and shape of a tuna can, and from it was projected the bright blue hologram of a woman with long, dark hair. Its light illuminated the creature just enough to vaguely suggest its horrific true nature.
“-record of human history,” the hologram was saying. “A war ignited by Mother Sphere broke out, and as previously recorded, humanity was defeated. Earth then became the stage for the Andro-Eidos. Andro-Eidos declared themselves the new human race. This new human race, with Mother Sphere at its heart, made tremendous progress and advanced the human race. And the surviving humans…the real humans…they fled to underground facilities. Some, led by Raphael Marks, waited here at this facility for an opportunity to strike back. During this time, the surviving humans evolved in order to gain the strength to face the androids. The result of genetic engineering and rapid evolution. Beings that have lost everything…everything but brute strength and survival instinct…that’s what they’ve become. Monsters. The monsters that we’re fighting…are the Naytibas.”
The hologram faded, and the Legacy deactivated. The sitting figure shifted slightly, looking up at the intruders, then back down at the Legacy. With the slightest squeeze, the device shattered into pieces. Then the monster reached down to grasp the handle of a
huge hammer, which it hefted onto its shoulder as it stood. As it stepped forward, a white light from behind the Seekers fell upon it, illuminating a
massive Naytiba crowned by a grotesque amalgamate Skulling, its bloated mass adorned by five golden masks. Even as the lesser Naytibas cowered, the Juggernaut stood tall, ready to defend what little it had.
Even if it was just one big brute, though, Heismay did not feel at ease. Upon picking up the sound of heavy footsteps, he turned to see the source of the light behind the team getting closer. After a brief, confused moment he then gasped, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. That spotlight belonged to another monster he’d heard about but never seen himself, the cunning stalker that nearly laid waste to the stagecoach. Belial had finally returned. With the giant in front and the swordsman in back, the Seekers were pincered. Yet again they would need to divide and conquer, but this time it was do or die.
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