Terminal — Roleplayer Guild

Here are the submissions I received. As a general reminder, I have only included forum names if given permission by the author to do so - otherwise, these stories remain anonymous. Feel free to post reviews for these stories in the general conversation thread. Try to provide some helpful critiques and suggestions, and mention anything you liked. 

Winners will be declared on November Fifth, and any applicable Challenge Accolades will also be awarded then. Since I received no volunteers for judging, once again I shall be reviewing each entry in turn. All winning entries will be saved in the Twelve Labours Archive with a permanent link in my signature, as well as mentioned in a report in the News section and General Discussion subforums. Once again, thanks to @mdk and the rest of the RPGC crew for helping to schedule The Twelve Labours. Another special thanks to @mahz for cranking out the awesome trophy and titles system.

Once the results come around, ff you did not win but feel you should have? Make an appeal to the judge who reviewed your entry. Keep it classy, and exercise some courtesy while making your case, and they might just reevaluate your entry. Please keep in mind, you only get the one appeal. Sometimes you just have to let it go.

Did you work through the day and night on your entry? Did you use your own blood as ink, your skin as parchment? Is there writing scribbled on the walls? Did you then submit it for this contest, before the deadline? IS IT NOT HERE? Lay an ill portent down upon me until I fix the issue!

The Stories:
"Fuck you."

There. I said it. For weeks, for months, for years I had been thinking about it, contemplating to just let it slip when Shelly nagged me again about my salary or my belly or the way I pronounce 'aluminium' - "It's aliminum, Steward!" - and now, it was out. She was stunned. Did she think she broke me, turned me into some docile creature with no fight left in me?

"Fuck you", I said again, louder.

I smiled. So this is what freedom tastes like.

Then she started yelling. I didn't listen. I was done listening. "Fuck you" was all I said, every now and then when she had to take a breather. And really, it was all I needed to say. After a while, she just left. Problem solved. But I wasn't finished yet.

---

"Fuck you."

There. I said. For weeks, for months, for years I had been thinking about it, every time that prick Jefferson walked by my cubicle or gave me one of his smug looks or had me work late so he could go screw his secretary - "Really appreciate it, Stewie. We need more go-getters like you!" - and now, it was done. His face was red, a vein pulsing on his forehead, ready to explode. And he did. But I knew what he had to say:

"Fuck you." 

I smiled. God, this is great.

Jefferson stormed out, yelling something about security, but then everything was quiet and I walked out the front door, feeling pretty smug myself. A king couldn't feel better. Problem solved. But there was more to do.

---

"Fuck you."

There. I said. For weeks, for months, for years I had been thinking about it, whenever Bob started his lure lecture or his trapping tirade or some other bullshit rant about something that involved killing animals - "Gotta make those knots tight, real tight! Or else, they gon' get loose and slip away when you just 'bout got them!" - and now, I had had enough. He yelled at me, his thick beard and double chin reminding me of bushes and lakes, waving in the wind. I laughed and said it again.

"Fuck you." Louder. Louder! "Fuck you! Fuck all of you!"

I tasted the blood before I felt the punch. I must have fallen over because suddenly I was staring at the ceiling. A slam of the door and I was alone. Problem solved... right?

...

Shit, this really hurts.

Why did I say "fuck you"? Because I was pathetic: 55 years old, getting fat, getting slow and getting pushed over by everybody. My wife was a bitch, my boss a dick and my friend annoying. I was tired of taking it, tired of being weak and powerless, just... tired of everything.

But...

Every now and then, Shelly would give me this shy, girlish smile that made my knees weak.
Every now and then, Jefferson would just do his job, no false smiles or arrogance, and praise me where praise was due.
Every now and then, Bob would ask me how I was and just listen to me vent and join me, cursing and laughing along with me.

And now... Now I had no friend, no job and no wife.

"Fuck me..."
By @mdk.

In My Lai, the American GI’s killed hundreds of Vietnamese civilians. The slaughter was a tragic by-product of a dark war, of men kept for days in hell who found themselves suddenly with the chance to strike back at the demons tormenting them, but found instead only more tortured souls like themselves. It was a heartless massacre, cut short only by the heroism of American helicopter pilot Hugh Thompson Jr. But Warrant Officer Thompson was not the only hero present that day.

Corporal Lance Peters was a member of the Second Platoon. He witnessed the slaughter firsthand, but was powerless to stop it. When the unit redeployed into the jungle, he waited, following his orders and watching for his chance. He meant to avenge the blameless dead, and visit justice upon those responsible.

On April 21st, 1968, he got his wish.

His fireteam walked into a VC grenade trap while bushwacking behind a recon unit deep in the jungle near Da nang. The team leader was killed on the spot, along with the heavy gunner. PFC Johnson was badly injured. Peters alone was unhurt. In the ringing silence after the blast, he could hear Johnson screaming, and he felt a cold light that pierced the jungle canopy and rested on his shoulders, urging him to find the private. His training told him to administer first aid, and radio for help. He didn’t listen to his training. He remembered Johnson as he was in My Lai, with a red bayonet and a grisly uniform, standing on a trail of bullet casings and spent magazines and blood. Peters found him.

He remembered well Johnson’s last words. “You ain’t gonna leave me,” he said. “You been here, you know how it is here! Ain’t no law out here! Fuck man! You ain’t gonna leave me!”

“No,” Peters said with another being’s voice. “I ain’t gonna leave you.” He did his work. Johnson felt it.

It was true, though, what he said at the end. There was no law in the jungle, only orders. The orders had been clear. But there were no orders anymore, either. Not for Lance Peters, former corporal, United States Army, MIA, presumed dead. He was alone there in the brush – the remains of a snake with its head cut off. There and then, he had two choices – to die, as any self-respecting snake ought to do, or grow a new head.

He carried on, eating salvaged MREs and what fruit and meat he could gather from the wilderness. He had no radio. When the company came to investigate their lost team, he hid in the trees and followed them. Lieutenant Aaron Andrews was below him, spitting fire and swearing to avenge his dead. “We’ll find you, Lance!” he called, thinking his troop a captive and hoping he was in earshot. “We’ll find you and kill ‘em all! Just hang on!”

He said something similar in My Lai. “Kill ‘em all!” – that was the phrase he seemed to love so much. It was on his lips frequently. He gave the order whenever common sense told his men to hold their fire. He was evil. Peters had spent his tour under the protection of this evil man, and in his service. His tour was over now. 

He followed the Lieutenant back to the unit’s camp, but couldn’t get close enough. They were down four men and on high alert, awaiting relief from the brigade commander. Peters watched them closely, and felt the light on his back again, even in the dark of night. He asked the light to give him a chance. The light answered.

At 0100 hours, a group of VC breached the camp’s defenses with mortar fire. Three were killed. The rest joined together in a firefight against the guerillas, and held their own for a time, but fell one by one. Peters watched the lieutenant closely. He was shot through and through. When the gunfire stopped, the VC moved in and cut up the bodies with their bayonets and knives, and stole all the equipment. Peters watched them vanish back into the darkened green. There were no last words for Lieutenant Andrews.

There were other men he meant to visit in the jungle, but finding them was nearly impossible. He trekked east, and found Private Harrison’s squad – Harrison had pulled the trigger on over a dozen executions, mostly children. He’d taken no pleasure in it, like most of the others, but he lacked the courage to refuse, and Peters meant to claim his life in recompense. However upon finding them, he discovered that Harrison was already dead. Harrison had eaten his own bullet rather poorly and died on the medivac flight. Peters cared only that he was dead; had he known the full story, it would have pleased him to learn that he suffered greatly in his final hours. 

It was the same for many others that he hoped to find. Some had gone home, cowering, he thought, behind the protection of a nation of laws. Others were already in the hands of justice, awaiting courts martial. Two more fell into Peters’ grasp, and he used the tricks he’d learned from the VC to show them the errors of their ways. He was the phantom behind the rumors in the company’s ear, the jungle ghost of vengeance, the blade of God. They called him a monster, an angel of death, a traitor, though they did not know his name.

He was not a turncoat. At times, he would encounter a VC trap meant for Americans, and disable it so that they could pass safely, only to re-wire it after in hopes of ensnaring one of his targets. He also fell upon a guerilla camp with grenades he’d taken from fallen soldiers, wiping them out in a shower of explosions. Peters had no quarrel with his country – to shift the blame thus would be to forgive the perpetrators, if only a little. He did not forgive them – not in any degree. 

In July, Peters set his sights on a new target, Major Garret – a lieutenant-colonel now, according to his uniform, but a Major still in Peters’ eyes – was back in country after a brief R&R. The brass had apparently exonerated him. He rode in his jeep with a strong escort detail between various fortifications, the names of which had lost all meaning to Peters by now. Major Garret was not the architect of the massacre, but he had been familiar to all the men sent. He knew what would happen if they were turned loose, and he turned them loose anyway. He should have been the one to stop it, but he wasn’t, and so he was goddamned.

Peters shadowed the Major for weeks before arriving at a practicable strategy. When he had the Major’s schedule memorized, he put his plan in motion. 

Peters approached Camp Carrol, a strategic site frequented by the Major in his new capacity. He reported to the gate guard with his identity and former rank, and told him that he had been evading capture for several months deep in the jungle. He expressed his desire to meet with his former commander, who had been shot through and through by the VC and was dead. After some discussion, he was asked to wait for Lieutenant Colonel Garret, who would certainly wish to see him. Peters felt the light on his back again, and tasted bile and cold metal in his mouth. He agreed to wait. They fixed him up with a hot meal and took his weapons away.

The Major arrived a few hours later. He approached Peters with the cautious familiarity common among ranking officers, shook his hand, and congratulated him on his survival. They talked a while about his status as MIA, about the funerals for the rest of his unit, which were all killed. They did not talk about the jungle ghost of the enlisted men’s stories. Garret had heard the stories, but dismissed them. 

After some time they talked about My Lai. The Major deeply regretted his part – that much was clear. He made exculpatory claims, talked about official reports and commendations and enemy dead. Peters pretended to listen, but his mind was already made up and there was no turning back now. 

“We’re gonna get you fixed up,” said the Major. “You’ve done your country proud out here.”

“I’ve seen things,” Peters replied.

“I know, son,” said the Major. “That’s the Arm. That’s the country. The war. It’s been the same since the first caveman picked up the first club. The job – it’s a sick bastard. We’re all haunted, here.”

Peters felt the light again, for the last time. “I know,” he said. He embraced the Major, who, though it was a serious breach of military discipline, did nothing to stop it. It was the most human thing he could do, perhaps the most human thing he’d ever done, to embrace this scarred and broken GI and wish him well on his journey home. 

While he held him there, Peters reached a finger into his mouth, and found the wire wrapped around his tooth. The wire ran down his throat and into his belly, where the other end was tied snugly around the pin of a hand grenade. He gave the wire a yank, and another, until he could feel the pin churn loose in his stomach. He made retching sounds, almost like weeping, and the major held him close and spoke softly about courage and service and the people at home who would thank him, someday, even if they didn’t thank him now. Then a wave of force and bone and blood shattered them both. The soldiers who came in afterwards found their bodies still locked in that last embrace, broken and dead, and unforgiven.
By @WiseDragonGirl.
The ranks in the army are made up, but they compare to the army ranks we all know.
trainer master = sergeant
second commander (often abbreviated to seco) = lieutenant
first commander (often abbreviated to fico) = to captain
second major commander (often abbreviated to semaco) = major
first major commander (often abbreviated to fimaco) = colonel
grand commander = general

I'm not using any of the abbreviations in this entry, but they exist and are mostly used by soldiers

The army camp was almost deserted as first commander Andrus casually walked through it, the sword on his side swayed gently on the rhythm of his steps. The many grey tents were empty and there was a silence not normally present in a camp of this size. The army was on the battlefield, doing their best to drive the Bardugs back to their land. It was war and while the exact cause was unknown, it was a hard battle. The bear-like humanoid race was a strong opponent and it didn’t seem the war would be over anytime soon. The only people left in the camp were some civilian personnel and soldiers who belonged to the company of second major commander Ordal.  Andrus served in this company as one of four first commanders. While two of the first commanders and their underlings were sent on a mission by Ordal, Andrus and his friend Trevor had remained behind with the second major commander himself  and all the soldiers and second commanders that answered to them. Their task was to defend the camp and guard the military prisoners, one of them being a tormash, the second highest ranking officer from the opposing army. 

In the distance Andrus could hear the sound of a hammer hitting metal, one of the blacksmiths was probably repairing something. Having some of those in the camp was undoubtedly invaluable. But not as invaluable as a decent cook, at least in his opinion. 

A group of five soldiers marched up to him and saluted when they were at the appropriate distance. One of the three patrols making their round in the camp. Other soldiers were scattered around the camp in small groups, but he had seen they kept their weapons close to them. As they were supposed to.

Andrus returned the salute in a casual way and continued walking until he found the person he was looking for. His friend and fellow officer Trevor, dressed in the same uniform as him, with the same ornaments to indicate his rank. When he could hear Trevor was scolding two soldiers standing in front of him, he slowed down a bit and stopped two steps later.

“But he is a Bardug,” one of the soldiers said.

“The rules are clear,” Trevor replied with a stern expression on his face. “Prisoners of war are not to be mistreated or belittled. They will be treated with respect at all time.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Understood?”

“Yes sir,” the soldier said. 

“You will continue guarding our prisoner,” Trevor instructed them, “and serve an extra watch tonight.” He looked at each soldier. “I don’t want to hear anything about breaking our rules of conduct again. Understood?”

Both soldiers nodded, followed by a ‘yes sir’, and Trevor sent them away with a simple gesture of his hand. With that taken care off, he turned to Andrus to see what he wanted from him.

“Will I get your undivided attention now?” Andrus asked. “I’m deeply honoured!” When he noticed the annoyed look on Trevor’s face, he grinned. “So, they weren’t nice to our guest?” he asked, motioning with his head towards the leaving soldiers.

“That’s right,” Trevor answered. As always he didn’t say more than he needed about it.

“The Bardugs are our enemy,” Andrus said as he took Trevor’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “We’ve lost good men in this war. It’s normal people feel frustration and look for a way to let it out.”

Trevor looked at Andrus with a neutral expression. “We have rules for a reason,” he stated with a firm voice. “Even if we’ve lost good men, those rules should be followed at all time.”

“All I’m saying,” Andrus said with a friendly smile, “is that berating them would have sufficed.” He gave his friend a firm pat on the back. “Or you should have given them your glare of death!” he continued as his smile turned into a broad grin. “That is a punishment in itself!”

Trevor groaned and was ready to send his ‘glare of death’ to his friend when the sound of shouting and metal against metal got their attention. They looked at each other briefly before running towards the turmoil.

As they reached the scene it was obvious what happened. Bardugs were invading the camp to free the prisoners they had taken. As soldiers quickly entered the scene, both Andrus and Trevor gave a few orders before they too entered the battle with drawn swords.

Several large Bardugs used their crescent moon-shaped blades on long sticks to keep the soldiers at a distance and killed those who came too close. Soldiers moved in to take the Bardugs down, using their swords to defend them from the sticks and stabbing them when they were close enough. Some Bardugs had engaged in close combat with swords of their own. There was shouting, the sound of metal against metal, cries of pain and bodies falling to the ground. It was difficult to keep track of everything that happened, but Trevor gave orders when he could and fought to defend himself and get rid of the invaders.

A short but heavy battle later Trevor looked around, panting slightly. The blade of his sword was stained red with blood. Some plucks black and brown fur stuck in the blood and he looked at the bodies of both humans and Bardug in the camp. A soldier walked up to him and saluted.

“Sir, they have taken our prisoners.”

Trevor nodded once and the soldiers left. He let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head. This was a mess. Apparently the Bardugs went through quite some trouble to get their tormash back. After another glance around, he noticed Andrus and walked up to him. 

“Ordal,” was all Andrus said when Trevor stood next to him and together they looked down at the motionless body at their feet. 

Trevor cursed under his breath, this attack was costing them dearly.  “How did this happen?” he asked with an annoyed sound in his voice.

“I know as much as you,” Andrus sighed. “We were together when this happened.” He looked at his friend and fellow officer, right now they were the highest ranked in the camp. “I’ve gathered the guards and patrols for questioning,” he informed him. “We’ll figure this out.”

Trevor nodded as he looked around. “Where is...”

“I haven’t seen your brother yet,” Andrus said. “A few soldiers are gathering the casualties, but I’m sure he’s fine.”

“How sure?”

The monotonous voice made Andrus look at Trevor, who seemed like a statue, and then follow the direction of his eyes. He recognized the body being carried by two soldiers as second commander Roland. Trevor’s younger brother. The left side of his face was mostly covered in blood and some pieces of white bone showed between the black hair. He didn’t need to go over to him to know it was a fatal injury. “What happened?” he asked the soldiers.

“The tormash received a spiked club from one of the Bardug and he knocked down several of us with it, including the second commander, sir.” 

Without a word, Trevor turned around.

Almost immediately Andrus turned around as well. “Where are you going?” he asked.

Trevor stopped and slowly turned around to face his friend. “The tormash killed my brother,” he stated, his voice still monotone. “That will cost him his life.” As soon as the final word left his lips, Trevor turned around to start walking again.

“You can’t do that!” Andrus said. Those words made Trevor stop again, but he didn’t turn around. “You know it’s against the rules of conduct! Let alone that murder it’s a completely different moral issue then killing someone in battle!”

“I don’t care,” Trevor said curtly.

“Just moment ago you were berating two soldiers for not following those rules!”

Trevor slowly turned around and just looked at Andrus for a moment, before he walked away once more. 

“Trevor!” Andrus called to him. “This will have consequences!” There was no reply from Trevor and Andrus watched him leave for a moment. He couldn’t go after him, with their second major commander dead, soldiers were looking at him for orders. He shook his head and turned his attention at the task ahead.

***

Later that day the army returned from the battlefield. Those who were uninjured or just slightly injured carried their injured companions into the camp. By the looks of it some hadn’t made it back to the camp at all. Andrus watched them as they all went there own way. Some went towards the healers tent, others to their own tents. By the way they walked it didn’t seem like a victory, but they were still far from defeated. He turned around and walked to the officers tent, a big, square tent used for both meetings and meals with the officers. He took the fabric that hung loose and served as the door to enter it. His eyes moved over the gathered officers met with those of their grand commander.

“Grand commander Bendul,” he said as he saluted the man.

“What happened?” Bendul asked.

“Some Bardugs decided to pay us a visit and collect their imprisoned comrades,” Andrus explained. “Officer deaths include second major commander Ordal and second commander Roland. We’ve several more soldiers, but we managed to kill most of the invading Bardugs. Unfortunately some managed to get through and free the prisoners.”

Bendul nodded once to show he had heard. “Where is Trevor?”

That was a question he didn’t react to immediately. The silence made Bendul frown and Andrus let out a sigh. “He went after the Bardugs with the intention to kill the tormash as revenge for his brothers death.”

The look in Benduls eyes didn’t bode well.

“I told him it’s against the rules,” he quickly added, “but he wouldn’t listen and he left before I could stop him.” Truthfully, he knew he could have done more to stop Trevor from leaving, but he hadn’t. He looked at Bendul, the man was still silent and he knew the grand commander expected a more thorough explanation.  “I was busy with cleaning up after the Bardug visit,” he explained with a faint smile. “Or, well, give the necessary orders for that.”

“And you couldn’t stop him,” Bendul repeated the earlier statement. 

For a moment Andrus and Bendul looked at each other. “No sir,” he finally said. “I couldn’t. We’re ranked the same, so I couldn’t order him and even if I could, he wouldn’t listen. After taking care of some urgent matters I looked for him, but he was gone already.” He could see Bendul wasn’t pleased with what he heard, but that wasn’t aimed at him.

“I can’t belief it,” one of the other officers said as he shook his head. “I don’t know anyone who is more concerned with the rules than he is and...”

“Are you suggesting I lied?” Andrus asked with a frown.

Even before the officer could say anything, another interrupted them. “This could make the situation even worse!” he exclaimed. “They will not take the murder on their tormash well!”

“Look,” Andrus said as he looked at the other officers and he waited until he had their attention. “His brothers death hit him hard,” he explained, “and right now he couldn’t care less about our rules of conduct and as far as he is concerned we can shove this war up our behinds, he wants his revenge. I warned him about the consequences and he chose to ignore me. The best we can do is to let our enemy know this is not an action of our army.”

How displeased Bendul was with everything he heard was clearly visible on his face. “Let’s focus on more important matters now,” he growled. “We have some dead officers that we need to replace and we need to collect the fallen soldiers and transport their bodies back to the city. We’ll deal with that first.”

As the conversation in the officers tent went on, Trevor was following the Bardugs. It wasn’t hard to follow their tracks. He wore simple hardened snake-leather armour without any colours that indicated he belonged to the army. He couldn’t forget the image of the bloody face of his brother and he wouldn’t let that damned Bardug get away with it, tormash or not. 

He managed to catch up with the Bardugs and kept close to them until they made camp for the night. He knew it would be foolish to go into the camp, he was just one man against several of those creatures after all. But he knew there would be a moment in which the tormash would be alone. He knew exactly which ones of the Bardug was their ex-prisoner, he needed the one with black fur, wearing a blue loincloth and a similar-coloured band around his left upper arm.

After an hour of waiting, Trevor’s patience was rewarded. The tormash left the camp to meditate. The rules of conduct clearly stated that the non-aggressive habits of the enemy should be respected, but this was an opportunity Trevor knew he had to take advantage of if he wanted to avenge his brother. As the Bardug settled on the ground, Trevor walked up to him.

“What do you want, human?” The Bardug asked.

“You killed my brother,” Trevor replied through his teeth.

The Bardug looked at Trevor for a moment. “I have killed many humans in this war,” he stated calmly. “Undoubtedly you have killed your share of us too, and...”

“I don’t care if you personally killed a hundred of us,” Trevor growled. “I promised to look after him and now he’s dead. ”

“And if the tables were turned?” the Bardug inquired calmly as he got up from the ground. With his broad shoulders and being taller than Trevor by the length of a head, he had an impressive posture. “If you killed my brother and I would come to you?”

Trevor narrowed his eyes slightly, he didn’t care about how tall or strong this tormash seemed, he wouldn’t go away without getting his justice. “I wouldn’t surrender without a fight, nor am I expecting that of you, but I would let give it your best try.”

The Bardug nodded once. “Very well,” he stated. “A duel of life and death. I am ready, human.”

Two long knives were thrown in front of their feet. Trevor looked to his right and noticed other Bardug were standing there. Obviously they had heard him talk and came to see what was going on. And aside from tossing the knives in their direction, the remained where they were. 

“This will be an official duel,” the tormash said. “If you win, you can leave. If you lose, you will die. Pick up your blade, human. We will settle this matter.”

Trevor nodded and picked up one of the knives. He held it in his hand to weigh it and test the balance. It seemed like a decent knife. When he noticed his opponent had his knife as well, Trevor launched the first attack, which the Bardug evaded more agile than one would expect from his posture. For a while the two opponents danced around each other and attacked when they had a chance. Trevor narrowly dodged the Bardug’s knife a couple of times, but at one moment he could see an opening. He bend through his knees slightly and thrust his blade forward. It entered the flesh of the Bardug just above the hip where one of their main blood vessels came close to the hip. He watched how the Bardug sank on his knees, quickly weakened by the loss of blood. He spoke a few words in his native tongue to his fellow Bardug, before he closed his eyes and lay down to wait for death to take him. 

One of the other Bardugs, one with light-brown fur and a green loincloth, turned to Trevor. “It was a fair duel, human, and you won. You can leave, you will not be stopped.”

Trevor nodded once, dropped the knife on the ground and left. The fact the tormash had agreed to a duel was unexpected, but at least it allowed him to leave in one piece. The initial plan had been to just kill him when he was alone, but this worked even better. As he walked, he thought about his brother. Revenge didn’t taste as sweet as he would have hoped, it didn’t bring the sorrow down. This was the first time he had ever killed someone outside the battlefield, but he didn’t regret doing so. At least it was one less Bardug in the war. His face showed a neutral expression and he pushed the thoughts of his brother back as well as he could. He didn’t want to think about it anymore.

***

As Trevor returned to the camp, he glanced around before he headed straight towards the officers tent. Soldiers were sitting together in small group, just talking, gambling or taking care of their equipment. Some were sitting by themselves, silently looking at him as he passed them. Some were wounded and walked around with bandages wrapped around a part of their body or sticks under their arms to get around. Trevor looked at them with little interest, these things happened and they were better of than his brother. He noticed the way people looked at him, but he ignored those soldiers. It seemed obvious these people knew what he had planned to do, but he couldn’t care less about what they thought about it. Some seemed angry, he wasn’t sure why, but maybe they felt he could have made everything worse with this action. And he couldn’t blame them for thinking that, that was a likely scenario. He knew he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know about how the Bardugs felt about duels. Some soldiers seemed genuinely impressed to see him walking there. One of walked up to him cautiously, but one glare from him stopped the soldier from coming any closer. 

When he recognised Andrus he walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. As his friend turned around he recognized a couple of feelings on his face. There was relief, but also concern and disappointment. 

“The grand commander wants to talk with you,” Andrus informed him and he took his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Trevor looked at his friend for a moment before he looked in the direction of the tent. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll go see Bendul now.” He didn’t wait for an answer and walked away, but stopped two steps later. “Congratulations on your promotion.”

Andrus looked down at the symbol on his uniform that indicated his rank of second major commander. The grand commander had decided that he deserved the promotion and Andrus had gladly taken it. He watched how Trevor continued walking and shook his head. 

Trevor entered the tent and whatever conversation was going on fell silent as the people inside looked at him. 

“Did you kill him?” Bendul asked simply.

“I did,” was the equal simple answer from Trevor. He ignored the gasps, the look of admiration from one of the other first commanders, the look of contempt from one of the first major commanders, the whispered question from one officer to another asking how he had been able to do that without getting killed himself. The only one that mattered was the grand commander, and he kept his face neutral.

“You ignored our rules of conduct and you ignored your duties here,” Bendul stated as he crossed his arms and his eyebrows moved down a bit. “Maybe you aren’t fit to be a first commander after all. You will go back being a second commander.”

Trevor nodded once, this wasn’t a surprise to him.

“I’m disappointed in you,” Bendul added.

That was a statement Trevor didn’t react to.

Bendul made a gesture of his hand and turned to the map behind him. “Dismissed,” was all he said.

Again Trevor nodded and he left the tent. There was nothing to be said, the grand commander did the only right thing in the situation. Regulations were clear on that matter and he knew the regulations all to well. He noticed Andrus standing just outside the tent, waiting for him.

“Did the grand commander tell...” 

“Yes,” Trevor interrupted him. “He informed me about my new rank.”

“Look on the bright side,” Andrus said with a grin and he gave Trevor a pat on the back. “You will serve under me.”

“By the Gods, is that a part of my punishment?”

“Hey!” 

Trevor looked at Andrus, he seemed to be just the same as he always was, but something was off. A silence fell between them and Trevor could tell that even though Andrus did his best to act like he always did, it wasn’t the same. Something changed, this new insight in what he could do had made a gap between them that wasn’t there before. “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

For a moment Andrus didn’t answer, then he sighed. “I hoped you wouldn’t go through with it,” he admitted. “That you would get a change of heart. But you didn’t. You actually killed him. It’s...” with a small frown Andrus looked at Trevor. “It’s a side of you I didn’t know yet. And I’m not sure what to think about it.” Trevor remained silent and just looked at him. “I don’t even know how much I can trust you if I send you on a mission.” 

That wasn’t unexpected. Trevor shrugged it off, he had done this and everyone just had to learn to live with it.

“Go put on your uniform again,” Andrus said with a friendly tone in his voice. “I’ll introduce you to your new first commander.”

After a short nod, Trevor left and went back to his tent. It would probably take a while before people would look at him as they used to. Some probably would never look at him the same way again. But that didn’t matter, he could live with that. He would just do his task like he always had and do his share in this war against the Bardugs.
By @Holmishire.

Grafters. Ever since the nuclear fallout had consumed their home decades ago, humanity had been forced to repel swarms of these mutated monstrosities, the remnants of animal life. Varying in size from a mere hound to an elephant, it wasn't so much their physical prowess that made them dangerous—though they had certainly grown far tougher and far stronger than they had any right to be—but rather the massive swarms they formed in the wild. A patrol was just as likely to encounter one as it was to encounter one hundred.

Major Olrich fired his mech's twin .50 calibre turrets into the flashes of flesh that turned to face him, trying to cut open a path into the center of the swarm. He and his comrade, Kolf, both piloted massive mechs, almost eight meters tall, decked out with a variety of heavy ammunitions. The Riptide and Olrich's own, the Undertow. They were officially employed as the rescue squad. When the smaller, patrol mechs and their convoys found themselves in over their heads, they were sent out to bring them home.

After a couple minutes or so of onslaught, the two finally saw their target—a convoy of mining transport vehicles, guarded by three mechs who despite their lesser models, were managing to hold back the grafters.

Olrich activated his comm. "Rescue squad on scene. Report."

"Mairwen leading," came the reply, from a young woman's voice. "Convoy intact, but Heilsson has been cut off from the group."

Looking to one of his peripheral scanners, Olrich could make out Heilsson's mech some distance away, holding out for now but clearly outmanned. His voice was toneless as he relayed his commands. "Fall back to base. We'll clear a path."

Mairwen's voice came back through the squad. "Convoy security is assured. Permission to assist Heilsson."

"Permission denied."

The comm lay silent for a moment. When Mairwen responded, her voice was still controlled, but terse. "Understood. Falling back."

CSC-11. An immense underground outpost of human desperation and ingenuity, it was the sole holdout of the old world amidst the irradiated chaos, as far as its inhabitants were concerned. Running almost entirely on nuclear power, much of the technology contained within would have been considered revolutionary at its inception, had it not been only barely able to permit them to survive.

Eira Mairwen marched her mech through the loading bay to her designated docking station, passing dozens of other combat-ready vehicles along the way. Behind her, the massive blast doors built to keep the grafters out groaned shut, cutting off the sounds of the turrets firing off into the masses.

Reaching her dock, she quickly switched off the systems and spun open the hatch to get out.

The Grace was a relatively small mech, standing at about three-and-a-half meters tall. Like all its brethren, its thick, windowless chassis carried at its core an ovoid pilot-pod. Built with manoeuvrability in mind, it sported boosters on its feet and semi-tractable arms. Attached to the right arm was what amounted to a sawed-off punt gun; on the left, a flamethrower.

Her boots made a loud thunk as she slipped out of the pilot-pod and onto the loading bay's metal flooring. Decked out in a full biohazard suit, she made straight for the decontamination chambers as other engineers, pilots, and soldiers milled about around her.

Olrich rushed over from his own mech, followed sluggishly by the other three surviving pilots. "Mairwen—" he started, a hint of pain in his voice.

"Shut it, Major. I'm not in the mood."

"… Of course."

She slid her gloved palm over a touchpad, and the twin doors slid open, allowing the five of them through. The decontamination chamber they entered was essentially a hallway, with white walls, grated floor, and bright light. As they passed through in single file, potent jets of water sprayed them down, cleaning their suits of radiation and draining through the grate beneath them. A thick mist had formed throughout the room. Once they reached the other side, she slid her hand over another touchpad. The jets stopped, and a gust of air blew back the mist as the doors slid open.

This room was larger, with rows upon rows of racks for the biohazard suits. The five quickly stripped off their suits and masks, before splitting off for the showers. Eira, being the only woman in the squad, went left as the others moved right.

Lithe and young, the redhead had only limited experience in the field—but she was a good pilot, and followed orders. And to the command, that was all that was required.

Reaching her locker, she spun the dial through her code and pulled out a fresh change of clothes, laying them on a bench with a towel. She tore a hair-elastic from her long red hair threw it down in frustration. "He made the right decision," she muttered, slumping against the wall. "I know he did."

She could hardly tell whether the tears were of anger or grief, but soon all trace would be washed away.

Standing before a table of a dozen or so command operatives, Olrich finished listing off a detailed report of the day's incident.

"That was a tough situation, Major. You performed well."

"Thank you, sir, but I was just following protocol."

The commander smirked. "In my experience, it takes far more skill to follow orders than to disobey them. Dismissed, Major. Take some time off for yourself."

Olrich salutes, and turns to leave, pulling a note out of his pocket. Time off. An address had recently been scrawled onto it. Time to pay my respects.

The various consoles and displays flicked to life as Eira reset the systems, readying the Grace for action. Though her hands still trembled slightly, she focused on the task at hand, trying to push away memories of her comrade's death only a few weeks earlier.

Fiery slugs tore into the putrid flesh that surrounded him, biting, thrashing, seeking. No matter how much ammunition he pumped out, it kept drawing closer to his chassis. Closer to him.

The loading bay doors slid partially open, allowing the diffuse yellow light to spill onto the gathered mech and convoy transportation vehicles. Eira took her position at the head of the pack, ready to step out and survey the area.

It crept over the mech's legs, preventing it from moving. Heilsson tried in vain to cut back the encroaching flesh, but systems were failing. Soon it would break into the pod. He turned to the heavy explosive controls.

Ash and fog lay thick in the air, keeping her vision low. The Grace's boosters launched it up to the crest of the next hill. Her sensors began to whine, announcing the presence of a biomass.

His hand was on the switch, ready to set off the explosive and take his own life. Heilsson's whole body shook in trepidation. He turned to look at Olrich. "Don't make the same mistake," he said. Pulling the switch. "Don't make the same—"

All was destroyed in a flash of heat and light.

Olrich awoke, cold and sweaty, to the piercing blare of an alarm. He snatched his pager from his bedside table. Convoy security compromised. Send squad to assist in reacquisition.

When Olrich and Kolf made it to the convoy, they found them in relatively good shape, retreating steadily towards the base, with only a few straggling grafters stalking them.

Olrich activated his comm. "Rescue squad on scene. Report."

A man's voice responded. "Convoy intact, but we've lost contact with the squad leader."

"Who is squad leader?"

"Mairwen, sir. She drew the pack away so we could retreat."

Olrich remained motionless and silent for a moment, mind racing. She made her choice. Don't risk the convoy. "Fall back, get the convoy to base."

Don't make the same mistake.

"Kolf, take command." Almost immediately, he could hear his partner's indignant protest, but he promptly shut off his comm.

The Grace leapt and dodged in a field of flame and burnt flesh, firing shot after shot into her assailants. Her chassis had already been breached, and many of the sensors damaged, but the pilot-pod was still intact. She had managed to hold her own thus far, but with the grafters driving her ever further back, she doubted she'd win the battle of attrition.

A bull-sized grafter leapt from the swarm towards her, and she quickly rotated her guns to fire, but before she could pull the trigger, a flurry of tracer-bearing slugs tore into it from behind. Glancing up, she caught sight of the Undertow cutting its way towards her, heavily damaged but still fighting.

"Mairwen."

"Yessir," came her reply, flooded with relief.

"Fall the fuck back."

The immense blast doors to the loading bay remained stoically shut at first, as if reluctant to let the two mechs back in, but eventually gave in and slid open.

As the survivors entered, they were greeted by dozens of men and women in biohazard suits, all having stopped in their tracks to stare in silence at the approaching mechs—one tiny, one huge. No one dared approach them as they docked the Grace and the Undertow, both direly in need of repair, nor as the pilots dropped out and passed through to the decontamination chambers. It wasn't until they'd made it to the other side and were removing their gear that a small company of command operatives tore into the room to accost them.

The commander strode forward. "You're too damned cocky, Olrich. That kind of decision is not yours to make."

"I was just following protocol—"

"That was not protocol—"

"Then I fucking changed the protocol, because it didn't work! Rescue squad is supposed to save lives, and that's what I did."

"Your job is to assure the security of the convoys. Personnel do not factor in." The commander scowled, and pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead; the situation strained his mind. "You are suspended of service. Return to your quarters while command decides whether or not you can keep your job." He turned to Eira, as if only just remembering her. "You're free to go—just get out of my sight." That said, he promptly turned on his heel and lead his men away.

After a moment, watching them leave, she turned to Olrich. Her expression was mixed, uncertain whether to feel gratitude or disappointment. She nodded in respect.

"I'm glad you're safe, Mairwen."

She hesitated. "I only wish you had had your change of heart earlier, sir. Good day—and good luck."
By @PlatinumSkink.

It was tough being a magician in this world. It was the modern world, where technology was everywhere, yet out of billions of normal humans, there was also thousands of magicians. It was rare to know one, but they definitely existed. The ones who wielded magic constantly fought for supremacy over one another, for various agendas that were as numerous as the magicians themselves. Magicians were often deep into research of impossible matters, and such research was often worth considerably. Therefore, any magician who could lay claim to such research would have their job all done for them, but this of course assume they're able to defeat the magician guarding their work. With magicians being associated with gold-mines of research guarded by extremely powerful individuals, like dragons guarding their treasure, it was easy to see why being a magician in this world was dangerous.

That's why Min was now sitting in this otherwise abandoned mansion of hundreds of years passed, sitting reading her papers in an office. In the basement, guarded by multiple wards, her followers were conducting her research, hidden from the world. This did not mean she was safe, but it did mean it would take more effort for other magicians to find her. Min had little intention of having to defend her research from those who intended to take it. In fact, it had already been taken multiple times, for Min was a realist who recognized that her research wasn't worth her life. … Normally.

The door into her study opened, making her raise her eyes to look at the one who dared intrude on her silence. Christopher was a tall, black-haired man who constantly stood straight and dressed in fancy suits to show his status as her right hand. His eyes twitched as he looked at her.

‘My lady. Project Aliea is finished.’ He reported. Min nodded, getting up from her chair. She was a rather short, brown-haired young girl visually, but her mind was that of a much older, more powerful magician. Magicians were spirits rather than physical bodies, and could move from body to body as they saw fit. Hence many magicians sought their ideal bodies, and simply stole it from its proper inhabitant. It was a practice that was frowned upon, but accepted as an inevitability at this point. Min had picked hers from a girl in a mental hospital that had committed crimes that had already crushed her chances of a proper life anyways, because she had the mental disabilities Min desired.

‘Very well. I'll be heading to the basement, then.’ Min said, and started walking past her head servant, who turned and was ready to follow her on the way.

Min walked down the stairs towards the laboratory in her basement where her followers were working. They were examining different bodies in varying room and conducting varying tests of magical nature using samples of Min's magic. They were proceeding as planned, Min paid them no mind. Those who saw their mistress walking through immediately made way for their magician, showing their respect for their magician. She really didn't have to walk, Min could have easily used her magic to transport herself, but doing that could potentially have been detected by other magicians, and that could be bad. However, now she had entered their warded basement. Here they could use magic as they pleased, up to a certain point. But now she only had a few steps to the door she intended on entering.

‘Ah.’ Judith, Min’s own magician surgeon, looked over with a pleased expression as her mistress arrived. Judith was somewhat of an eccentric, with transformed pink hair bound in two girlish twin-tails, wearing what appeared to be a torn nurse's jacket which was slightly too small. Stitches across her arms and legs showed that she had done clumsy self-experimenting in her past, making her look like some mad scientist's production herself. As far as Min knew, that was still Judith's original body. Min would have questioned her appearance, if Judith hadn't have been another magician loyal to her that specialized in surgical magic, something Min had a lot of use for. Not all magicians had another magician that was loyal to them. Judith happily waved at Min to get closer and inspect the results of their work, a body which was lying in front of her on the surgical bed.

‘Lookie, here! The first prototype of our research is completed! Aliea is done!’ Judith excitedly informed. Min wandered forward, looking over the blonde tall female body with so many stitches along her body from varying surgeries that she could have been mistaken for a construct that was lying on the bed. Christopher, who had followed as a good follower of a magician would in case he was needed, had stopped by the door. He was clearly not entirely comfortable with the research being done, though he was earning money for his work, so he couldn't complain. Min extended her hand over the body, and channeled some magic power to resonate through the girl's chest.

‘Do you feel it?’ Judith asked, grinning. ‘Your magical power is being amplified as it courses through her body, and becomes capable of doing wonders...!’ Indeed. Normally, a magician's power is determined by their spirit. Changing your physical body helps only in physical combat, it is impossible to change your spirit, and as such the peak of your magical power is usually the limits of your spirit. However, with Min's research and Judith's surgical skill, they were able to use dying magic to enhance the ability of these bodies.

Magic was powerful. It blessed individuals of strong spirit, inhabiting them and giving them extraordinary powers in exchange for living in their soul. This way, the magic of a person could be considered a living being in itself. When magic was about to die, it was known to go through desperate measures to survive, known to be the cause of miracles, the birth of new magicians or spectacular explosions. Killing magicians was never easy, especially when successful.

However, with Min's magical prowess and Judith's surgical prowess, they had managed to fool the magic into thinking it was inhabiting a magician that was about to die. However, as the individual wasn't dying, the desperate magic did all it could to reinforce and amplify the abilities of this dying body. This way, the body was miraculously enhanced to be able to channel magic to a more intense degree, Judith keeping the body from dying until the process was finished. They had managed to manufacture a miracle of magic.

‘It's extraordinary! We're going to be able to turn the entire world of magic on its head! People are going to be using this technique for years upon years on end! Generations of surgical magicians are going to be high in demand! And I will be known as the first of my kind~!’ Judith dreamed away happily on the side while Min was inspecting the body. Indeed, this was unprecedented. This was the miracle that they desired. However... Min slowly wandered her hand up to the girl's head, inspecting.

‘Ah, that's...’ Judith quickly realized what Min was going for, her excitement quickly plummeting, reaching a hand towards her as if to dissuade from examining that in this moment of triumph. Min used her magic and examined the brain of the girl. When a magician transferred over their spirit to someone, it was to take advantage of the features of the new body. This could be because their current body was growing old, to use the strength or intelligence of another's body or simply because it would help to be a psychopath in various violent circumstances. However...

‘This girl's mind has been greatly damaged by the ordeal.’ Min concluded, magical power echoing through her head. ‘The magic cares nothing about the status of the brain, as long as it keeps the body alive. In the weakened state of this body, this brain has been severely damaged. It still functions, but I am afraid I wouldn't be able to count the number of disorders the inhabitant would have. If it means ending up in this mental state, the promise of power is rather unpleasant.’ Min maintained an empty expression as her hand fell off their experiment's face.

‘A-ah, yeah... We're still working on that...’ Judith informed sheepishly from the background, looking dispirited. Frankly, neither Min nor Judith had any idea how to prevent the brain from being damaged in the procedure of dying but being kept alive for this experiment.

‘Still, this is a great step forward. Keep thinking about surgical ways to keep the mind safe from magic, and I will consider the magical means.’ Min continued, throwing her companion a bone. Judith's expression immediately brightened, a proud look entering her expression as Min continued. ‘This is the amount of power we were looking for. From here, we just need to minimize the damage and increase the efficiency. After that, we'll have all the results we'll ever need to begin a new generation of specifically prepared magician bodies.’ Min told, turning to her companion. Judith immediately saluted, excitement taking over again. ‘Yes, ma'am! I'll get working on it right away!’

‘You have permission to take a break if you wish. I'll be returning to my study.’ Min informed, starting to walk out past Christopher, while Judith happily returned to extracting and writing down as much information about the experiment she just conducted as she could. They were making progress into an area of magical science which had previously not been ventured on. Had Min not been inside a body specifically chosen to be unaffected by excitement and pride in order to make logical and rational decisions no matter the state, she would surely have been reacting similarly to Judith right now. Instead, she was walking calmly with a straight face back where she came with a face so unperturbed that one could have assumed the experiment had been a failure if one had seen her exit.

_________________

‘It is about time I leave for town in order to gain the funds for my research and followers.’ Min concluded as she closed the door on her vault, her expression as unperturbed as ever. Due to the existence of magic that could easily create money, each coin and bill had their own index which was checked when used in stores or put into banks. Should duplicates be found, it was sure that a hunt for magicians would happen in the area. This would be highly problematic for Min, so she did it the more honest way. Every now and then she wandered over to a magician's guild where people place their request for a magician's help, and how much they offer for it.

‘Very well. I will make the necessary preparations.’ Christopher informed, and walked off in the mansion. Because of the way magicians acted, only going out from time to time when they needed money while being incredibly useful, one couldn't really depend on a magician to be on time. One simply had to post the request and hope for the best. However, when a magician did show up, they usually did a lot of requests at once. Hence, a call would be made through secure lines to inform different guilds that Min was on her way. They could therefore sell special offers for extra money that ensured a magician's help was on the way. It would still take a while, because Min would have to travel physically for long enough that when she actually did use magic to instantly teleport, other magicians who could sense magic usage would not be able to track that back to her mansion. This safety distance was quite long, in Min's case.

_________________

The result of the examination at the magician's guild soon had Min flying through the air above a field of corn, placing wards all over it in order to keep insects and other little creeps away from the plants. It was a rather common practice, after all, and it paid well enough. Christopher was currently waiting for her a couple of kilometers from here, as she had teleported away from him when it was deemed safe. After this there was some exorcism that needed to be done, some magical pranks of another magician that the public needed help to deal with, and then there was some rich person who paid way too much to make his entire mansion switch color from purple to yellow... Business was as strange as ever in the magical sector.

It was while warding this field when she suddenly felt a tinge, a small shock of magical force going through her body. Min immediately stopped in mid-air, channeling her magic to find the source of this disturbance. It was quickly apparent to her that what had gone off was her own security system, capable of sending a magical signal to her whenever her wards at her mansion detected intruding movement closing in.

‘...’ Min stayed quiet as she summoned a small hand-mirror to her hand, a reflective surface surrounded by a wooden frame, which she brought in front of her eyes. Through the reflective glass, she could see through one of the mirrors of her mansion as if she was on the inside looking out. There was a company of men moving in. They were armed with rifles and other invasive equipment, ready for battle. She couldn't sense it, but it could only be a magician closing in that had somehow located her base. Nobody else would gather a bunch of soldiers and then move in to strike at a supposedly abandoned mansion. If they got too close, they'd undoubtedly find her wards and thereby her whole base. How troubling.

She simply took the new info into consideration and acted. Min let herself fall through the mirror in her hand. Magic enveloped her and she flipped over once as she entered the mirror which was really smaller than should have been able to contain her, but such trifle matters were of no consequence to a magician of her status. She landed outside the window she had been looking through, her knees bending as her feet met the ground, her empty stare directed to the group of men before her. This body could not have a mood, but she would have been in a horrible one if it could.

The armed men quickly directed their arms at the unknown brown-haired girl in a peasant's dress who had seemingly dropped out of nowhere and landed in front of her mansion. Min looked at them with her empty stare, which undoubtedly unnerved them further, before she started wandering forward to meet them. She had just used magic to teleport, meaning any magician on a look-out could possibly be on the way. It wouldn't have been as detectable as if she started waging a battle, could have just been a blip on someone's radar that they decided to ignore. She just had to take the chance that this would not attract any further attention, as her presence at the mansion had clearly been needed. She couldn't count on Judith to be able to hold off these kinds of attacks.

‘Stand back.’ A solid voice spoke out, and the huge shape of a man stepped forward, almost twice the height of a normal human and probably with the strength to match. The soldiers did as they were told, not a moment's hesitation. They knew well enough that they were no match for magicians. Their role was to ensure physical superiority, an easy enough task. Most magicians would rather not use magic around their main base, as the use of magic may attract other magicians of questionable intent, as such a physical resolution could be preferable. However, there was no way Min would not protect herself magically if attacked. She stopped and turned her head to inspect the man who had spoken, who was getting closer.

He was wrapped into a black coat, though a young-looking face was looking out from under the cap which towered over the soldiers. The whole body just screamed out that it had been magically prepared, but it would not be able to channel greater amounts of magical power like the bodies Min was preparing. This one had been prepared to intimidate and be physically superior. Which, Min knew fully well, her own current body which had been selected due to its mental state would not be able to contend with. His eyes calmly inspected her, this body's mind probably also in some mental state appropriate for his current operation.

‘Greetings. You must be Minerva.’ He said, smiling and making a little mocking bow. Min stared at him, trying to determine if she knew who he was. She knew of hundreds of magicians, they were few enough that one would easily know of any powerful or local enough. However, with a magician's tendency to change bodies, it wasn't always clear who you were encountering. The fact he already knew who he was talking to was troubling. That meant he knew her strain of magic, and could have prepared to counter her. Meanwhile, Min had no idea who this person was or what kind of magic he wielded. He had intentionally informed her of her disadvantage. Troubling.

‘State your terms.’ Min wasted no time. The man had approached non-magically, meaning it was possible none were aware there were two magicians meeting here. He had the advantage physically with the guns and magically by knowing what magician's spirit he was facing already. He wouldn't have gone through the trouble unless he wished to possibly avoid fighting altogether.

‘You will surrender what I desire, and then I will be on my way.’ He said, gaining a little smile at Min's straight-forwardness. This was common enough. He had her at a disadvantage. Min's life would be at stake if she tried to fight. She would have to prioritize between the safety of her research and the chance of dying. The logical solution in most cases would be to give up. The research was often times now worth risking your life for. However...

‘Not today.’ Her reasoning was simple. Min believed she could win, and for once, her research was something she took pride in. The last thing she wanted was for someone to take it from her. That’s when the sound of a hidden rifle-wielder to her right fired at her. Fool. Even the weakest magician was practically immune to physical attacks thanks to wards. … Yet, pure instinct made Min take a step back. The bullet carried straight through her wards and flew past her, and would have hit her leg had she not taken a step back.

‘Hahahahaha! You saw it coming, you saw it coming! Impressive, impressive!’ A woman jumped down from the tree to the right. It had definitely been a normal rifle that fired the bullet, no magic could be detected, yet it had penetrated Min’s ward. Meaning… 

‘The “Gunpowder Fairy”, Charity.’ Min looked at the blonde woman wearing a brown “wild” jacket and hat, along with a grin. The woman grinned wider, and aimed her rifle at Min with a confident stance. There were multiple handguns strapped to different parts of her jacket and pants.

‘Correct~!’ Charity confirmed. She was the woman magician who had somehow developed magic-repressing fire-arms that could penetrate wards. However, stories say she realized what a disaster her discovery would cause to the world of magicians and hence kept it for herself and her own agendas. This was fine with most of the world’s magicians, assuming they did not have to fight her. Min’s eyes drifted to the other armed men. Did they have her bullets, too?

‘…’ A person looking at Min would say she looked bored. Now that Min knew that, she just had to put up actual defenses against magic and she’d be fine. However, the fact that there was one more magician worried her. Charity was always a magician who acted alone, whose services as a magical blacksmith could be hired, but could not be pulled into actual combat. In addition, due to her trigger-happy mood, attacking her was always discouraged. Why was she here, on someone else's side? 

Min turned her stare towards the man. His expression was empty, but there were clear signs of being in control. She did not know what he had planned, but it looked like he was prepared. As such, prepared to change her course of action in an instant, Min started lifting her hand to summon magic to defend herself.

‘FIRE!’ The man’s expression suddenly twisted in intensity as he shouted the command. The troops showed no hesitation in opening fire, bullets shot at her with the intent to kill and ability to penetrate wards. This would surely have been the end of any average magician. However, for Min, time slowed. A sphere of magic extended, outside which for her everything moved slowly, but for them she would be moving extremely quickly. Not that she would move.

Min held her hand mirror forward, and from it magical power shone. As if having moved through a portal, large rectangular reflective pieces of glass flew out, panels of magical power which flew out and placed themselves into a long reflective belt around her. Min had no problem seeing through the square-cornered belt, and she saw the bullets approaching. With her defense ready, she removed her sphere of power.

The bullets flew, colliding with Min’s visually reflective defense. Each one flew into the panels, but no collision was heard. Instead each one flew into them and then out of another panel, meaning the salvo which had fired at her was sent flying straight back. The enemy soldiers quickly took cover wherever they could, startled by this. By Min’s own doing, not a single bullet had actually hit one of the soldiers, but every single one had been really close. Charity and the man had not budged an inch, Charity chuckling a little for herself.

‘As expected, Minerva the “Mirror Witch”. You’re not that easy to kill.’ The man declared, looking at her as Min parted her reflective shield, but let the panels float absently around her in mid-air, allowing her enemy to peek through them at her emotionless eyes. Min said nothing, a bad feeling going through her. While she was confident she was a force to be reckoned with, this man had come anyway. Min’s magic was defensive in nature, she had no interest in hunting other magicians. Did he have a way to defeat her?

The magical signature was the only warning which Min got, but even with that, her physically unimpressive body was not fast enough. Someone had just appeared out of nowhere and attacked at the mirror covering her back. Normally, this individual would have passed straight through, and Min could do pretty horrible things to those she felt belonged in her mirror-dimension. However, instead, the mirror broke from a physical attack which somehow connected.

‘The “Speed Demon”, Drake.’ Min stated without turning around, seeing through her own mirrors the black-haired man dressed like a blue noble behind her, a sword directed to the back of her head. ‘You have both the famous anti-magic researchers here.’ Min established, staring at the large black-clothed man. Drake was famous for his personal grudge which made him develop the magic to dispel other magic, in addition to speed-amplifying magic which made him a lethal assassin of magicians. Of course, he didn't shared his findings with anyone.

‘Indeed. And combined with your research on bodies which channel magic at greater ease, nobody will be able to contend with me anymore.’ The man stated with finality, his silent assassin holding Min in place with the promise of a sword in the back of her head should she do anything. Min stared at him. Knowing where she was staying was nothing special, but knowing what she was researching?

‘Hahaha! You’re surprised, you’re surprised!’ Charity announced happily from the side. Actually, the current body Min inhabited was unable to feel surprise as it hampered with decisions, it simply took new information into account. ‘Don’t worry, don’t worry! None of your followers have betrayed you or been pressed for information!’ She continued, clearly saying more than the man wanted her to, as he rolled his eyes a bit.

‘Marcellus, the “Undertaker”.’ Min guessed. There were only so many magicians strong enough to gain both Charity and Drake to his side, in addition to having the very convenient power to sense people’s spirits. If she was right, he would have been able to sense what was happening to the bodies Min was experimenting on, and would therefore have become interested in her research. Based on the complete 180 in Charity’s expression from superiority to stunned surprise, Min concluded her guess to be correct. A small smile appeared on the man.

‘I apologize, I was intending on introducing myself, but it seems you figured it out before I could.’ The huge form of Marcellus said, doing a little bow and smiling. Min could tell it was vacant of actual joy. ‘In any case, you stand little chance of success. You can fight, but we’ve already prepared counter-measures. In this condition, we can already take everything you own without you being able to do anything about it.’ He stated so as if it was already a fact. From what Min had heard, Marcellus wielded darkness as a weapon, capable of attacks that could harm a person’s spirit itself. Hm.

‘Then I suppose,’ Min flipped a magical switch inside her head. ‘That you’ve already taken into account my preparations?’ The fact that the mansion was going to blow up should someone try to pry their way in now without her consent now that she had activated that function. It should be expected of any magician worth their salt to have some such preparation, just in case. Marcellus just smiled again.

‘Oh, the mansion is not my chief goal.’ He made a motion with his hand, and Drake lowered his blade, vanishing in a flash of speed from behind her. Min’s mirrors quickly moved and covered every direction again, a new mirror sprouting to replace the lost one from one of the other mirrors and placing itself where the broken one was. She stared at him, quickly realizing what it was he was really after, as he had freely given her back her position of power, though he could take it away as easily once again.

‘Minerva, “Mirror Witch”. I would like you to join my brigade.’ Marcellus said, causing Min to stare at him to hear his offer. Seeing the look, he gave a light chuckle. ‘Why, there would be a waste to stop potential future growth of research by separating the expert and her work, now, wouldn’t it?’ He smiled, and then spread his hands in a gesture of power. ‘Under my command, you’ll have all the protection and funds you’ll ever need. Never again will you have to fear a magician coming out of nowhere to steal your research. Instead, you’ll complete your research, and we’ll pile together all of our findings so that we together will be able to accomplish all of our goals. So, what do you say? Do you need time to think?’

‘…’ It became pretty clear from here. The “Undertaker” could track down anyone, using their pure spirit as a guide. Drake could be guided directly to the object of his revenge from there. Charity was less clear how she had been recruited, but perhaps the safety or the excitement of such a team had persuaded her. Nevertheless, Marcellus was seeking to create an unstoppable team of magicians, and Min was next on the list. While the aspects of a protective “sponsor” were attractive, there was no way someone like this man would allow her to capitalize on her findings. Marcellus would stick close, holding her tightly, and her research would be for him and only him… With this in mind, Min looked straight at him.

‘I refuse.’ As those two words were spoken, the battle had already begun.

Drake reappeared at her right, attacking at her mirror. It crashed into a million pieces, but Drake had already vanished. He was picking off her mirrors, while Charity used a spell which caused wings of guns to sprout on her back aiming at Min, the wingspan spreading out in an enormous half-circle to aim at her from any angle. Noting that she was quickly losing defensive capabilities, Min waved with her arm and sent four of her mirrors on offense towards Charity while her other mirrors were sprouting new ones.

Charity used her floating guns to shoot at the incoming mirrors. Unfortunately for her, the mirrors were portals, as she should have learned by now. Every bullet shot into the mirrors were redirected and launched from an alternative mirror. Drake had seen an opportunity to dash in to attack when Min had launched four of her defensive mirrors, however just before he was about to dash the magical bullets of his own companion came flying through the mirrors that remained. Drake had no trouble dodging them by sidestepping with unnatural speed, but it did keep him from getting close. 

All Min’s mirrors were also her eyes, so she kept a steady watch on where Marcellus stood. The soldiers behind him could fire for all she cared, they’d just be giving her more ammunition, which was probably why they weren’t firing, watching the magicians do their thing with awe and feelings of helplessness.

Charity had been unable to shoot down the mirrors heading for her, so with an annoyed sound she blasted some unseen gun embedded into her body to launch her aside from the attack, the mirrors sweeping past her. Her huge wings of guns were also following her movement, clumsily and without actually weighing her down, with the use of some magic no doubt. The mirrors would, however, be tracking her. Turning in an arc, the homing mirrors would be heading after where Charity was going. The so-called fairy realized this, though only grinned.

‘Don’t mock me! DON’T MOCK ME!’ She cried out, and her guns all turned to fire at the mirrors. The guns glowed red for a moment, and shot out red bullets at the mirrors. Min had no idea what these red bullets could do, but considered it a treat that they were targeting those mirrors rather than her, so in worst case she could learn. She turned the mirrors so that the shots would simply be launched back at Charity, nowhere near Min right now. Meanwhile, Drake was fighting Min’s never-ending arsenal of self-replicating mirrors, he only needed to be swallowed by one to be defeated, but he was the one who could break the mirrors as well. He had numerous scars from small magical glass-shards that had fallen into his glum expression and clothing. Min’s number of mirrors were increasing, and she was now creating a floor out of mirrors as well that she could stand on, just in case.

The bullets Charity shot went into the mirrors and were sent flying back at their shooter as intended, no effect had happened on the mirrors. However, here Charity grinned, and pointed towards Min. The bullets turned mid-air towards their new target. Realizing the new threat, Min placed mirrors in the way to stop them, while sending her previous four mirrors flying at Charity to swallow her, which would lead to her defeat. Min precisely managed to slow time around her when she realized Charity’s magical bullets were curving around her mirrors.

They really were prepared to fight her. They knew she defended herself with mirrors, and so Charity came with bullets that could bypass them. Her defeat now became a priority. Highest priority was surviving, though. Min couldn’t use this time-slowing magic too many times, and it only affected her immediate surroundings. Grabbing her hand-mirror and swinging it in a wide arc, Min physically stepped forward and struck the slow-moving bullets, one by one. Her hand-mirror would trap them in her mirror-dimension, where homing wouldn’t help them. Her eyes and mirrors quickly picked up on where all the bullets were, and she could strike each one. She had to, or the surviving ones would hit her. After what felt like an eternity, she had struck them all.

‘…’ However, now Drake was behind her, within her defensive line of mirrors. Min stood, hand-mirror raised where she had struck the last one, while Drake’s sword was now pointing at her back. Drake had the obvious advantage when it came to speed-based magic, and while she was using hers and focusing on taking down the homing bullets, Drake had easily been able to move at equal speed to bypass the defense she wasn’t focusing on and entered her dome of mirrors, pointing a sword at her back. The obvious message was, “You lost”. Charity was grinning, knowing what had happened.

‘So, you’ve made your choice.’ Marcellus said, with a nod of finality. ‘You realize, Drake could have stabbed you through by now. Only reason he didn’t was because we need you.’ Min didn’t need to turn her eyes towards him, she could already see everything through her mirrors. Looks like he believed he won. ‘Attack Drake within from any mirror, and he will easily escape. You may touch him for a second, then he’ll already have vanished. After that, Charity’s guns can easily bypass your shields. Next time you try to fight, you will feel the consequences.’ Min stood silently, as she had heard his words. Sure, that would be the case. But, the thing was, a touch was all that was needed.

Drake felt a touch of an outer force at his foot. Reacting instantly, he speed-jumped out of the dome of mirrors, assuming Min had chosen to be hurt. That’s when he saw a few strings of blue energy attached to his foot, and the grin of a woman he had never seen before.

‘Soul Strings, PULL!’ Judith shouted out. She had emerged from one of the mirrors lying on the ground and touched at Drake’s foot, using her surgical magic to attach what she liked to call “Soul Strings” to his spirit. Drake had then naturally escaped in full-speed, except the Soul Strings are only so long. The blue energy-filled strings went taut, before they with a shock of force from Drake’s high speed pulled at Drake’s spirit with a large amount of force, and Drake’s spirit was pulled right out of his body, which flew some extra distance before it lifelessly crashed into the ground a number of meters away.

‘And there, now it’s two-on-two~’ Judith said happily as she stepped out of the mirror Min had allowed her to go through as she stepped up beside her ally inside the dome of mirrors. ‘Waiting for your entrance appears to have paid off.’ Min declared, as she was looking at Marcellus for his reaction.

‘Judith, the “Soul Surgeon”. So that’s who I felt…’ He said, his eyebrows raised and looking at them through the small gaps between the mirrors. Indeed, Min had wondered about that. Marcellus should have sensed Judith through his power to sense spirits. So he had known someone was there, but not who it was. ‘You’re full of surprises, Minerva. I take it she took part of your experiments as well.’ Judith grinned at this.

‘You’re quite right~! Min’s always depending on me to help her out, just like now~!’ Judith announced, winking and making a peace-sign with her free hand. Her other hand were holding a few threads which were linked up to the blue shape which was Drake’s spirit, which was hovering above her like a balloon, powerless. In any case. Min surveyed the battlefield. This did indeed equal the playing-field quite a bit. She could see Charity glaring at them angrily over there, her attitude changing immensely when they took out her companion. Charity still had the four mirrors from earlier closing in on her from behind. Now it was just a matter of learning what Marcellus could do-

Crash. Min blinked a little. She had some trouble processing what had just happened. All her mirrors had shattered instantly, glass shards spraying all around them. Judith had been sent flying for quite a few meters before finally she had managed to roll and get up on her knees, Drake’s spirit tagging along via soul-threads the entire distance. The mirrors shattering meant Min could only see forward. But, that black spire coming out of her chest told plenty. Marcellus had used Drake’s speed-magic, and then a combined version of Drake’s dispelling magic and Charity’s anti-magic, then… then Marcellus had used his own shadow-magic to create a lance of darkness which had thrust through her chest from behind. His giant form was standing calmly with his arms crossed right behind her. Judith’s eyes went wide with terror as she saw what had happened.

‘MIN!’ Her surgeon shouted out, before she had to jump back to avoid a number of Charity’s gunshots, Drake’s spirit still dangling by her threads from her hand. The feeling of being impaled was… horribly painful, though the body’s mentality prevented feelings of panic. The lance withdrew itself through her chest, a small hole bleeding. She felt it. The lance of darkness had made sure to curve around all organs while inside her, but she could still die from a multitude of reasons, as natural when one has just been impaled. Min’s strength left her, her mouth hanging open desperately breathing, her expression still empty from expression. She fell forward towards the ground which was littered with shards of glass, and behind her Marcellus sighed.

‘You’re as stubborn as they come, Minerva. Don’t worry, I only injured your physical vessel. In any case, I’m sure if I lock you up for a bit, I can persuade you to-’ His speech cut there. Of course it did. Min couldn’t see his expression, but if he could show surprise at all he’d be showing it. The ground Min had fallen on had transformed into a mirror at her touch, and she was falling through it along with plenty of glass-shards. It was her emergency escape. With this, she came falling out a window inside her own basement, numerous of her followers flinching from her sudden entrance. They had been watching the events outside through windows and mirrors, as Min allowed them to, but that had been cut the moment their mistress had been impaled.

‘M-my Lady! Are you alright!?’ ‘W-we need to see to those wounds!’ ‘Switch bodies before you die! Y-you can take mine!’ A chatter began as they crowded around where Min had fallen on her face on the floor around here, blood spreading from the hole.

‘Don’t touch me.’ Min commanded, making her followers flinch back, before promptly using magic to shut the two painful exits from her body temporarily with two mirrors. She got up to her knees and gave her followers a stare. ‘Out of the way.’ The scared surgeons and servants quickly parted ways, and Min started quickly marching towards one specific room. There was no other choice. It was a huge risk, but one she had to take. She opened the door to Aliea.

Min knew her current body was about to die if left untreated. She could easily just transport her spirit to any of her vassals. However, what good would that do? Marcellus was right at her doorstep. There was no meaning in fleeing, Marcellus both had the power to sense spirits on an unknown range, he’d be right at her tail. There was no meaning in fighting, as Marcellus had already proven himself superior. As such, there was no other strategy but to gain power. And fast.

Her vision was getting cloudy as she walked up to the blonde body. Min steadied herself on the bed looking down at Aliea’s sleeping expression. She looked quite peaceful, for an extremely magically attuned maniac. Min didn’t know what state that brain of hers was in, but it was extremely damaged. Despite this, Min had made her choice, and this body knew no apprehension. She lifted her hands and placed them on Aliea’s head, and let magic allow her spirit to flow in.

_________________

Huh?

Min sat up, her eyes widened in shock, her hands tensed up as she gripped the ragged clothing she wore. Her expression was confused, her eyes wide with seeming innocence, mouth slightly opened as she looked around.

‘Ah!’ She flinched in surprise as she saw the body of another girl, lying on her back, blood in great amounts leaking out from the wounds of impalement. She was no doubt dead. Min shivered in the unpleasant feeling.

But… of course, she knew what she would see. Min closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to overcome trauma from the startling sight. That’s right. She was Minerva, the so-called “Mirror Witch”. Right now, Marcellus was attacking. Judith was out there by herself. And she had gone into the body of Aliea.

‘My Lady! A-are you alright!?’ One of her followers cried out, looking frightened from outside the door. A whole crowd of them were gathered behind him, worried for their mistress. ‘My lady?’

‘…!’ Oh, god. The noise. They were making noise, chattering among themselves, trying to see to her safety. Why were they so annoying? Just shut up. No, wait, no good. Do not lash out. A proper magician must always appear calm and focused, in control of themselves, because… because… um…

Because… Eh… Aliea’s eyes opened wide in stunned surprise and tried to think really hard. A magician must show kindness to her subjects, must appear as a reasonable figure, not show off their superiority because… because… … … because…

…

She did not remember.

_________________

‘It would appear that your mistress has left you by yourself.’ Marcellus said, turning a bored-looking expression towards Judith. Judith flinched, a light fearful grin on her lips and her body in a tense battle-pose. Drake’s spirit was still flying above her, hanging by her spirit threads. Charity was grinning, her wings of guns aiming at the remaining target. There was no doubt, Judith didn’t stand a chance. Judith didn’t stand a chance against either of these alone, the only reason she had been able to nab Drake was due to Min’s mirrors and Drake’s close-combat orientation.

‘Eh, she’ll be back! You just injured her current body, so she had to switch. Haha.’ Judith wasn’t able to think reasonably, fear and hopelessness currently inhabiting her mind. She knew fully well why Min had to leave, but Judith couldn’t leave like that. If she was stabbed, she was done for. She was a surgeon, not a fighter, damn it. Marcellus scratched his chin, and looked at her, suddenly with some interest.

‘… Say, you’re involved in Minerva’s research as well, aren’t you? In fact, she couldn’t do her research unless she had a skilled surgeon involved. In fact, this is all you, isn’t it? How about you join us, and make the research your own?’ He suggested, looking at Judith.

‘Wha-!?’ There was no telling how many ways that was wrong. Dying magic was an extremely dangerous thing, it could do practically anything. Min’s research and magic was what steadied the process, what made the effects predictable. All Judith did was keep the bodies alive at the level Min had determined, and then fixed them up. Judith could in no way replicate those reactions by herself. Of course, without Judith, Min would have been unable to keep the bodies alive. If Marcellus wanted to claim the research, he needed them both.

‘You haven’t even considered it, eh? What a selfless little lady.’ Marcellus smiled in her direction as he saw her surprised expression, while Charity giggled in the background. The smile of this giant man was oddly comforting. To Judith, it felt like he was intending on being friendly, her guard lowering a bit. Of course, that was only up until she denied him, but.

‘In any case,’ Marcellus continued while suddenly vanishing, making Judith flinch as she felt his hand grab around the soul-threads holding Drake’s spirit in place. ‘I’ll be taking Drake back now. I trust this is acceptable.’ His voice had taken a more threatening tone, from right behind her. If Judith could touch him her soul-threads could pull his spirit out too, leaving only Charity. But… it was impossible. There was no way he hadn’t already accounted for that. But at the same time, there was no way Judith couldn’t at least try.

‘… Fine. Here you go.’ Judith said, releasing her threads with a flick of all her fingers. ‘After all, there is no way I could defeat-’ She jumped backwards. Her intent was to grab his clothing, from which she would be able to attach soul threads, and then pull. Judith’s heart jumped with excitement as she came into contact with something. However, that happiness came to a dead stop as dark hands grabbed around her throat. What she had grabbed had been a part of Marcellus’ darkness, which he had pulled up to defend himself with.

‘That, was a poor choice.’ Marcellus informed her where Judith was being picked up into the air by the shadow going around her neck, kicking with her legs below and her arms reaching up and grabbing at the physical shadow with a panicked expression. ‘Still, I recognize that I have need of you, so I won’t injure you.’ The very large man said, as he took Drake’s spirit and gently placed it down into its proper body, Drake shaking his head somewhat as he came back to awareness and started getting up.

‘Hey! Hey!’ Charity shouted to her nobly dressed companion assassin with an amused tone of voice. ‘You caused us trouble by getting yourself defeated so easily! Be careful, be careful! Hahaha!’ Drake showed no sign of having heard what she said, just dusted off his clothes and got up to his feet, sword at the ready. He gave Marcellus a nod that he was ready, which Marcellus then returned as they turned towards the mansion, their soldiers still standing by further back.

‘Alright, then let us-’ Marcellus had intended on saying they were to continue into Min’s mansion to find her, since he knew where she was. However, there was a sudden shock-wave which passed through them, causing Drake and Marcellus to take steps back and raise arms to shield their faces, Charity fell over with a little shout of surprise while Judith’s eyes widened in shock. This… this magical signature. It was all warped, and really really powerful!

‘Oh, wow. It's stronger than I thought.’ Marcellus commented blankly while Drake stared blankly with a frown and Charity stared with eyes that could not believe what she felt. Judith stared herself, but felt a rush of worry going through her. She knew Min must have felt she had no choice, but Aliea was not ready to be used! This was a disaster waiting to happen...!

There was a burst of magical power as the front door of the mansion detonated in a magical explosion, the force directed from the basement somewhat below it, creating a slope up to the ground. Up came the slowly walking, blonde, wide-eyed form of Aliea, but with Min inside. Her magical signature was almost unrecognizable. She was stumbling, unsteady on her feet as she came up, but the massive power she held was evident.

‘If I hadn't felt the transfer myself, I would have sworn she was a different person.’ Marcellus grunted, summoning his own magical strength. Drake and Charity both looked at him, and he smirked, his shadow carrying Judith flying off to the side to keep her away from the ensuing battle. ‘Don't worry, I came prepared to do battle with her project.’ He then turned to her, staring at her.

‘You've outdone yourself, Minerva. What amazing magical prowess.’ The tall magician praised her while Min lazily looked around the field, swaying a little in the wind as if she was a really fragile individual that could fall to a push. ‘I realize this is your attempt to subdue me. Then, after I win, we can have a long talk about how to fix your problem and how we capitalize on our success in the future. I look forward to it.’ Marcellus grinned, summoning immense amount of magical power to show that his words were more than boosting and overconfidence.

‘I am the “Undertaker”!’ He exploded in a mass of dark magic. Streams of darkness flower out from his arms, turning into a flow of power mid-air, dark rivers of his magic quickly taking up massive amount of space around him. Within each stream, small blue flickers of spirit-energy could be seen. ‘I take the spirits of other magicians, drag them down into the depths of my magic and add their strength to my own!’ He declared, his own magical force impressively larger than normal magicians would ever hope to achieve.

‘Have you forgotten your shields, “Mirror Witch”!?’ He asked haughtily, splitting one of his streams into numerous tendrils which spun in unpredictable patterns in mid-air, eventually flowing towards the weak-looking girl standing in the mouth of the cavern she had blown open. Judith looked on in horror as her friend, whom she knew was in a body of reduced mental capacity, was faced with this monster they surely would not otherwise have been able to handle. This man was more powerful than they felt from the outside! This could be really bad! In their normal states, Judith and Min wouldn't have stood a chance!

‘Mirrors...?’ Min asked, sounding a bit confused as she looked up at the pillars of shadow flying towards her. ‘Oh, yeah. That's right. I use mirrors to fight.’ Her eyes widened a little, looking a little bit more awake as she collected her fragmented memory about how she usually fought. ‘But I...’ She grinned, a grin of pure joy which chilled Judith to the core. ‘I don't need mirrors anymore.’

The tendrils vanished into thin air in front of Min, reappearing inches behind her and splashing into the wall of the mansion. She then proceeded to vanish, having pulled a cloak of air around her, and then she was standing behind Marcellus. The man's eyebrows raised themselves considerably, as he looked forward to where his streams of darkness had lost their target.

‘... You can channel your magic into the air itself? That's... unexpected.’ He commented, a rather passive voice.

‘“Undertaker”, huh? Then I suppose it is only fitting to send you to the underworld.’ Min then, with but a swipe of her hand, made the man vanish. However, in the brief instance where the portal had been opened, a small amount of magma had leaked out, glowing hot and rapidly cooling rolling on the grass. All the streams of shadows and the arms grabbing Judith immediately dispersed into nothing, the surgeon girl falling down onto her knees with a little surprise in her voice. There was a sudden minor shake in the earth, a quake of minor magnitude along with a large magical signature from far, far down beneath them, which Judith realized was the power of Marcellus' magic dying. H-he was powerful enough that his death-act caused a reaction that was felt from that far down...?

‘Oh, lively, wasn't he?’ Min grinned momentarily, before turning her head to where the fallen commander's followers would be. The moment Marcellus had disappeared from this world, Drake had already vanished. Charity stared blankly, taking a longer than she needed to put together what had happened. The soldiers who were watching the scene quickly started looking at their second-in-commands for quick judgment, distress apparent. Judith stared at her friend in this all-powerful state, and glanced down into the mansion wondering if everyone was alright. Or even more so, was Min alright...?

‘Oh, hold on, “Speed Demon”. Where are you going?’ Drake suddenly showed up and stopped dead in his tracks, as he had been tracked down through his magical signature by Min, who had placed an air-mirror for him to run through and come back through. Drake looked somewhat distressed in his expression, but true to his reputation he sprung to action immediately after assessing the situation and sped for Min, intending to run her through.

‘...’ He was split in half. Min stared with a light smile as an air-mirror split his torso from his legs, the two parts of his body flying past her and rolled on the ground before landing only a few meters from where Charity was standing, her eyes wide and legs somewhat shaking, her wings of guns falling onto the ground. The female gunsmith were desperately trying to form words, stumbling back a little. Min gave her a slow, menacing look combined with a sinister smile.

‘F-FIRE! FIRE!’ Charity cried out, however the commanders of the soldiers had already decided it was time to bail. Charity herself, on the other hand, pulled up the handguns strapped on her body and opened fire with every single gun still operatable. Min barely even had to pay attention as she snapped up the bullets in the air and flinged them at the backs of the fleeing soldiers, Charity firing desperately and giving Min more than enough bullets to wipe out the soldiers, who fell shouting in pain over and over, bleeding out over the ground.

‘CHAAAAAAA-!’ Charity was taking steps back as she was firing against the enemy that was simply redirecting all the bullets she was firing, when suddenly she flinched, her eyes wide. Her eyes directed down at the ground, where large purple masses of what looked like corrupted blood was latching on to her legs. ‘Wh-WHAT!? E-ew...!’ She shouted and tried to kick it off in panic, but it was sticking her to the ground. The purple masses were coming out of the two parts of Drake's body...!

‘When the hosts of magic are about to die, magic does a last act which signifies its will to live. I've been researching it for some time now.’ Min grinned in sadistic joy as she looked towards the stuck Charity, who looked back in terror. ‘With my new level of power, I can now customize what I want the dying act of a magician's magic to be. I decided Drake's to be grabbing onto the nearest magician and drag her with him, isn't that fitting for a revenge-seeker?’ Min gave a small, bone-chilling giggle. ‘Still, you looked quite eager to get killed all on your own.’

‘A-aaah...’ Charity finally figured out that staying here was a bad idea. However, pulling her legs in the purple mass proved impossible. ‘G-get off me! GET OFF ME!’ Charity's mid-air guns turned and fired flaming bullets, burning at the purple mass. Except, the purple mass was devouring her legs. The magic of Drake's death was eating her, and she was screaming in pain as she fired all her flaming guns downwards, but she couldn't harm pure dying magic with that. Still, Min wasn't about to give her a death by just waiting.

‘Charity, the “Gunpowder Fairy”... I guess you'd want to become as big an explosion as possible, eh?’ Min asked with a little smile, which the panicked magician in front of her could do nothing but look frightened at. ‘N-no, please don't. Please don't. Please don't...!’ Min slowly let her hand go into one of her own air-mirrors, seemingly vanishing into nothing. Charity's eyes went wide in panic, for she felt the hand emerge within her, taking up space and grabbing around her beating heart within her body. She could only shake her head at Min, hoping she would stop, even as her legs were already being devoured.

‘There.’ Min grinned and clutched, and Charity's body would flinch once as her heart was crushed within her body, and moments later her body exploded with a shock powerful enough that Judith had to take cover behind her arms from all the little particles flying through the air. Th-that explosion had enveloped Min, too! Was she alright!? But as the dust settled, Min stood there with her red hand back in her possession, completely unharmed from the explosion which she could easily just redirect so it skipped the space where she was standing.

‘W-whoah...’ Judith sounded out as she slowly walked out over the field, spinning around as she did looking at the magma, gunned-down bodies, the soot after the explosion and all the shards of glass strewn around from before. ‘Y-you did it, Min! You completely wiped them out!’ Honestly, it was scaring Judith a bit. Would they later be able to make this Min's natural level of power, without risks of side-effects?

‘Naturally, Judy. They were all just obstacles for me to overcome, anyway.’ Min grinned, getting her friend's name wrong while seemingly taking pleasure in the destruction she had caused. This made Judith wince, Min would usually advice against destruction or death, but it could be easily explain with the damaged mind of Aliea, whom Min was currently inhabiting.

‘I-in any case! Let's go back. We'll have to move our research, the magical signature of this place is now off the charts. Let's get you back into a normal body, then get the help of our followers to pick up all our notes, and-’ Judith started, thinking about how other magicians might be coming to this place now.

‘Ah, about that. I think you'll find our followers rather unwilling to help us out.’ Min said, grinning. ‘I kind of ripped most of them to pieces.’ Judith stopped short hearing her friend's words. N-no way. Min would always try to keep a friendly relation to people, because ill deeds brought ill attention, and Min always sought to avoid trouble at any cost. This body, Aliea was worse for her than Judith had thought!

‘Also, I think I'm done. This body will do.’ Min suddenly declared. Judith stared at her with a touch of terror. ‘The mental effect isn't so bad.’

‘Wha- Yes, it is!’ The surgeon magician attempted to counter. ‘You're acting very violently and spontaneously! If you continued in this, you'd-’ Judith stopped short, realizing arguing to Min while she's in this body might be less than helpful. Her mind would not be able to properly consider the consequences of her actions.

‘Nah.’ Min just said, looking happily away with her hands behind her back. ‘I developed this magic to become stronger in order to become free. And what do you know, I've never felt more free.’ She continued, her expression looking like she was feeling pure joy. It was quite alien to Judith, who was used to seeing this emotionless mistress of hers.

‘Min, you're not being reasonable.’ Judith tried, coming closer and raising a hand. She was intending on attaching soul strings to pull her friend out of that body. ‘Let me at least examine if your new brain is functioning as it should, and if I can do anything about any problems. As it is, you'll no doubt have seizures and other brain-problems that will no doubt be very painful.’

‘Painful?’ Min giggled, and Judith had to pull her hand back, as she felt it entering an air-mirror. She started breathing heavier. Min wasn't letting Judith touch her. ‘Pain, painful, hurt, damage, hahahaha.’ The girl laughed a little, as if something was really funny. The surgeon magician flinched back, staring in fear at her friend, who then turned and glared angrily at her.

‘Do you know how painful it is, Judy!? What it feels like to constantly be in fear of stronger magicians showing up and taking what's yours!? Living in this resticted world which nails you into a specific role on the wall with nails through your arms! It's unbearable! So many rules one has to adhere to in order to avoid this! So many do and don't, just to stay out of trouble! This entire research of mine has been for one reason, and one reason only; To be free. And let me tell you, I have never been as free as I am now! I dare the world, just try and stop me...!’

‘Wait!’ Judith called after Min, who at the end of her speech had turned and started running away from the mansion, by her own muscles. ‘Listen to me! Min! You're not free yet!’ She called out, running after Min. ‘Your actions are only patially influenced by your thinking! You are not entirely in control of yourself! With a bit more research, we can fix that! Then you'll be truly free!’ Judith tried, attempting to say things that may sound attractive to the insane Min. However, Min did not slow down. 

‘Please! Give me a little bit more time to research before you go! Do my words mean nothing to you, Min!? I'm your friend!’ Judith cried out, a little bit more desperately as they ran across this field of dead soldiers. She knew fully well Min could vanish into her air-mirrors at any time now. However, suddenly, Min stopped. Judith breathed out in relief as she stumbled to a stop, breathing heavily. However... then Min turned around, looking at her with a vile little grin.

‘Oh, you...? You're a convenient pawn that happened to have the expertice I needed. Now I have Aliea. I don't need you anymore.’ Judith looked up at Min with an expression of stunned surprise. It wasn't as if she hadn't considered that she might be in danger, but actually seeing Min raise her hand in offensive gesture towards her was something else entirely. There was nothing Judith could do against a force of this magnitude. She saw an air-mirror taking shape above her, which quickly started glowing hot as magma from the depths below leaked out and started falling down towards her. Judith closed her eyes and covered her head with her arms.

There was a twitch in Min's expression as she saw the magma fall at Judith. She realized with a start that she didn't actually want to see Judith die. This body was very true to such desires. Min sighed, and made another wave with her hand to air-mirror the magma so it spread around the area, the place where Judith was taking cover completely untouched. The overpowered magician in a new body turned around to look away while Judith barely dared to look out through her defensive barrier of her arms protecting her head.

‘... Then again. If I lose Aliea, which I will eventually due to aging, I'll need you again. Very well, carry on. Don't die, it'd trouble me if you did.’ Min cast a throwaway excuse. ‘Now, then. It is time for me to go punish the world which has kept me locked away.’ With those words, she vanished. Judith blinked in disbelief. She stood there, shaking for a bit, before she completely concluded that she had in fact been spared. 

Th-this was not a time to stand around and do nothing! The magical signature of the mansion was extremely noticable after this battle! Judith had to pray she wasn't already watched by someone as she ran desperately back to see to the workers and prepare for the immediate transport of all their research...!

_________________

Christopher stood rigid, his eyes alert with a bit of a frown as he looked at the new body of his mistress. She had appeared out of nowhere, grinned at him saying that they had a new objective, and before he had any idea what was going on she had transported them to the top of this city of millions in population, where he now stood on top of a sky-scraper. It was a disturbing feeling, seeing Min in Aliea, the very body which she had previously said to be uninhabitable. He knew Min had taken longer than she should have to come back. That she was in Aliea meant she had gone back, magically, which only happened in emergencies. What had happened?

‘Look at them.’ Min said, looking out from the top of the sky-scraper, dangling her legs over the edge staring at all the humans rushing about as ants down there on the streets. ‘Running about, going on with their lives which mean too little for them to be in danger for any magician. Sure, they know magicians exist, but they're too busy with their own pointless lives to care. We're too few. What's a few thousand magicians world-wide compared to a few billion of their mundane kind?’ Min spat down the scraper, talking to Christopher as if he was an equal, despite that he was, in fact, one of those mundane kind.

‘Indeed, our kind would do well to take more care, my lady.’ He said, simply to agree. This prompted Min to look at him in surprise, and then grin. ‘Oh, I didn't mean you, you're nice, you treat me~!’ Min then kicked out with her legs one at a time, stunning Christopher of how her calm and reasonable mistress could turn into this. Min looked out again, sighing.

‘You all have it so easy. The moment a magician is confirmed to be a magician, typically by some accident around puberty, the whole family is just RIPPED out of society!’ Min grinned as she pulled in mid-air, to simulate ripping. ‘Young magicians are easy pickings for those who want assistance, or those who want to eliminate future rivals. In addition, people who give birth to magicians are by some reason more likely to give birth to more magicians, so they have to be retrieved as well, as they could be in danger. And of course, magicians give birth to magicians.’ Min went beside the point.

‘After that, they're raised by government-sanctioned magicians that teach them all to be good little magicians, which are now what most of the hunters are comprised of.’ Min sighed, leaning down on one arm. ‘Yet, magicians target magicians. Any child confirmed magicians is to research their magic. Even had I said that I didn't want to be a magician, they'd still hunt me! I fled and tried to live a normal life, yet magicians kept picking me out of nowhere to raise me! I didn't want to be raised! Then there were those that wanted to kill me, those were also a trouble!’ Min had been reduced to angrily shouting about her past, which Christopher had to just stop and listen. Min had never spoken of her past before, so it was somewhat of an experience.

‘Not even the magician's school was safe! Even with the hunters on standby, self-confident magicians still attacked trying to lay claim to the kids! I-I had no choice but to grow as powerful as I possibly could to defend myself, but it still wasn't enough! I had to do research on how to get more powerful, yet stronger magicians kept showing up to steal my research, and I could do nothing but watch because I valued my life! God, DAMN this life!’ Min shouted out loud enough that Christopher worried someone below might hear and complain about some maniac on the roof. He stood and listened. His mistress had decided to confine this information to him, there was little else he could do but let himself be entrusted with it.

‘But all that's over now. Now, I'm the strongest being on this planet.’ Min slowly stood up, and stared down condescendingly at the commoners below. ‘And how much help I needed from these people? None. None at all. I did it all myself.’ She gritted her teeth in anger. ‘Why did I have to do it myself? You all needed to do nothing yourselves. You care nothing about the magicians of the world! They don't matter to you!’ Christopher stopped being the target of Min's shouts, as she stared down into the streets filled with people and honking cars.

‘But, that all changes today.’ Min breathed out, and gained a vicious smile, combined with eyes that looked nothing short of sinister. ‘Today, the whole world will be taught a lesson. Maybe, after today, they'll all learn to take a little better care of their magicians.’ And she raised her hand, and gently snapped her fingers.

‘My lady-’ Christopher began, but it was too late. A giant air-mirror formed ominously above the blocks of the city in front of them, and Christopher could do nothing but stare in awe and horror as liquid magma came pouring down from the opening, down towards the city streets that were littered with people, all who had no part in what had happened in Min's life. He found himself frozen in place, even though he knew what he wanted to say. He saw Min's grin as the magma crashed down over buildings and streets, rapidly cooling while plunging over the screams of the people below, all the time he just wanted to shout.

This won't have the effect you're talking about!

_________________

Judith was sitting, breathing heavily in an appartment, her heard beating rapidly as she looked at the news. This appartment was a temporary one she had claimed from its proper owned by modifying their minds a little and setting them out on a vacation, and now the bed, chairs, tables and windows was hers to use. Currently, a truck filled with her workers, research and practice bodies was placed in a garage some ways back, the workers having been given a good sedative so they didn't cause trouble. However, the news, the news!

The amount of deaths were yet uncounted. Three major cities and many more smaller communities were in ruins. The military and the hunters sent for the enemy had all been unable to contend with her, and had all been wiped out. As it was impossible to know where a magician could appear next, an order to evacuate was impossible to give if they didn't want to evacuate the entire continent. This... this was really bad. How would people all over the world look at magicians after this? It was impossible to say. She felt terrible. This wasn't what she did this research with Min for.

Suddenly, her phone rang. Magicians naturally carry phones, as magic gives off magical signatures and therefore phones are more untracable to other magic individuals. Phones were great to avoid magical attention but could be tapped by the tech-savvy, magic avoided stupid technological middle-men but could be tracked by other magicians. Judith blinked in surprise as she was called, quickly reaching and grabbed it. She hesitated, naturally, given the circumstances. Would she answer a call from here, right now? But when she looked at the screen... Christopher!?

_________________

There was this tiny cottage, which inhabitants were long dead. This entire neighborhood was dead, in fact. Yet, this one cottage was fine, because Min slept inside. Judith gently opened one of the windows and peered inside. Christopher was sitting restlessly on a chair next to the bed where Min was sleeping, hugging himself restlessly still clutching his phone with both hands while Aliea's peaceful face was no different from on the operating table to Judith. Seeing her outside, Christopher held his breath, not wanting to alert his mistress to the intruder.

Judith could feel them. Min's natural wards. Even in this insane state, her sheer instinct had made her put up protective wards in case of intruders. Fortunately, she had not taken into account that the intruder would be someone very familiar with her wards, or an expert at operating on magic. Judith took a breath herself, as she pulled out her soul scalpel. To her, the ward was a physical wall around the room. Time to cut a hole in it. 

Moments later, Judith had cut a small square of the wards out so that she could crawl through them. Her own magic allowed it to take such convenient shapes. There was a wave of relief going through her body as she figured that Min had forgotten to do the more secure protective measures, she must have been exhausted. Aliea probably didn't inform her host of exhaustion the same way a normal body would. Good for Judith.

‘Time to come back, Min.’ Judith gently whispered as she put a hand down on her sleeping companion's shoulder, attached a soul thread, and pulled.

_________________

‘Ugh…’ Min whimpered as she slowly awoke. She felt nauseous. A quick scan of her own body revealed she was back in the body she had previously gained a liking for. The place where she had been impaled had been replaced with other tissue and then healed. As expected of a magical surgeon, she supposed. She gently placed a hand on her former wound as she slowly sat up.

‘You’re waking up, eh? You put me through some hell, there.’ Judith complained, sitting on a chair in the corner, arms and legs crossed. They were in an apartment, far from where anyone would expect any magical business. Min could suspect that Judith had operated of the minds of some locals to get access to here. The apartment had a bed, which Min was lying in, and windows, shelves, the sound of cars driving by outside…

‘I know. My memories remain.’ Min reminded, as she rubbed a hand over her own face trying to think of a way of how to cope with her own actions. ‘How are things?’

‘Not good.’ Judith declared, turning her head in disgust, thinking of what happened. Alright... let's start with their own matters. ‘Luckily nobody showed up and investigated the mansion, so the research is fine, but the problem is our workers. Over half of them were dead when I came down, and the other remaining ones were extremely unwilling to continue following you. I had to bind them and lock them away, or they’d have gone and told on us.’ … That would have been bad. ‘Can you operate on their minds so they forget?’

‘I can’t kill specific memories, yet. I can completely erase their memories, but not specific-’ Judith started explaining, before Min cut in. ‘Would you be able to, after more research into your surgical magic?’ Judith blinked a bit in surprise, then answered. ‘Y-yeah, that should be possible.’ Min nodded with satisfaction. ‘Good. Then I want you to focus 100% on that for a little while, preferably before their promised time to go home to see their families. As for the rest, we'll need an explanation for what killed them.’ Min thought about this, but Judith shuddered. They needed to explain the deaths of their workers... What of all other deaths? Guess this was the time.

‘... You’ve gained a new title.’ Judith said as she threw a newspaper into the bed where Min sat. There was aggression in the throw. Calmly, Min leaned forward and grabbed the paper, starting to read the main article.

‘… The “Apocalypse Maiden”.’ Min said out loud, as she read through the article. There didn’t seem to be any sign of that anyone knew who had attacked. Seems like they believed it was someone new, as her magical signature appeared to be unique. ‘... Marcellus came to us and attacked, the magical signature of our battle drew the newly awakened magician, and she laid waste to our work-force and our enemies. We escaped due to my mirrors.’ Min quickly considered her excuse. Then there was the fact they had thought it was someone new. ‘It would appear Aliea changes your magical signature.’ She concluded.

‘Good thing, too!’ Judith exclaimed, who had fallen into a deeper and deeper scowl as Min had come up with their explanation what had happened. ‘If not we’d have been caught and executed already, perhaps rightly so!’ Judith was visibly annoyed and not afraid to show it, but then calmed down and sighed. ‘The problem is Christopher.’ Min stared at Judith upon her words, not immediately connecting, but then it came back to her. She had dragged Christopher along with her on her journey of destruction. They had already seen him, and connected him to their Maiden. As luck would have it, magicians typically did not show their followers to anyone, so nobody knew Christopher worked with Min. However, if he'd return to normal life, he'd no doubt be grabbed on the spot, and from his mind it would be easy to find out the truth.

‘We have no choice. We'll have to hold onto him.’ Min said. There would likely be an investigation around Christopher's house and family. As tradition would have it, Min would send a note informing of the death of her workers to their families along with the circumstances of this, after which they could say if they wanted an investigation or not, but she'd send no such in Christopher's case. Too dangerous. The other families would without a doubt file for an investigation, Min would simply have to be ready by the time that happened while hiding Christopher somewhere else.

‘So we're safe from hunters for the time being.’ Judith said, sighing once again. She then proceeded to stare seriously at Min. ‘Though, they may still be coming. We have no clue what kind of clues we might have left behind which someone would be able to use to link her to you. We have one serious task ahead of us to avoid being blamed for all those people that you killed. We may need to take some serious measures to avoid being caught, and even with that, you'll likely be high on the list of suspects given our recent loss of staff.’ Min silently waited until Judith came to her point. 

‘We should destroy project Aliea. This much power wasn't meant for anyone.’

‘No.’ Min shut her friend down and received a stunned stare in reply. ‘I will keep the “Apocalypse Maiden” in storage for insurance. Should it come to it, I will announce her to have been my own failed experiment, and that I would not hesitate to use her again against any that intends to harm me.’ Min explained to her companion, who stared in shock. ‘We will continue our research. Should we someday find a result which can provide us with an Aliea which does not damage the vessel’s brain, all our worries will vanish overnight.’

‘Th-that… I can’t recommend that, Min.’ Judith told Min, who noted this was the first time she could ever remember that Judith had seemed afraid of her. ‘The feeling of power from being in Aliea was euphoric to you. I know you like to claim your current body is immune to emotions and such, but your spirit still desires power. Christopher told me what you said. As the closest thing you have to a doctor, I must insist that we get rid of Aliea and discontinue the research, in order to prevent anything similar from happening again.’ Min gave her ally a silent look as Judith argued for the disposal of Aliea from a completely different perspective.

‘No. If someone else does research that reaches similar amounts of power, I do not want to be caught empty-handed.’ Min said with finality, looking over at Judith’s look of mild panic at the steadiness of her voice. ‘Do you fear me now, Judith? Do you no longer trust me?’ Judith flinched back a little at her words, quickly becoming defensive. ‘I assure you anything I did or said during my time in Aliea was out of my control. If we learn to prevent the damage to the brain, there will no longer be any danger.’ Min’s memories were naturally a bit foggy, it was a very unstable mind, so she couldn’t remember if she might have said, but she could assume she might have said something really bad.

‘… But it was still you, just without inhibitions…’ Judith whispered quietly enough that it was clear her words were not actually meant to be heard. She closed her eyes and shook her head, before smiling and turning towards Min again. ‘No, don’t worry. I still trust you. This incident has simply rattled me. Just a bit. I’ll…’ She swallowed. ‘I’ll see what I can do about the situation with our followers. We should be safe for the time being. I wish you a swift recovery, Min.’ Judith quickly stood up and left the room.

Min watched her vanish, and then slowly lowered her head on the pillow behind it. She stared up silently at the ceiling. It would appear that her choice of using Aliea had saved her life, but also made her appear among the top wanted people in the world, although it wasn’t known that it was actually her. Magician hunters from across the world would be gathering here hunting for their maiden soon, and common people all around would probably hate magicians. Had she triggered the another Witch Hunt?

In any case. Min would have to appear to be one of the innocent indigenous magicians conducting her business around these parts. She could not let Aliea be recognized, no matter what. Her workers… would be a problem, but with Judith’s surgeon skill it should be possible to give them amnesia, and create a story around their deaths. Shouldn’t be too difficult to somehow include their deaths into the wreckage left behind by the “Apocalypse Maiden”.

Min closed her eyes, trying to sleep. That had been the first time for a long time which Judith had looked that frightened of her. Using Aliea had saved her research from being taken, but had Min lost something else? In addition, she had murdered countless people and destroyed many of the government's force of hunter magicians. There was no telling how the people would treat magicians now. Best case scenario, they recognize that it was the deed of a single loon magician and aren't too hard on the respected ones. 

This had all happened because Min had chosen to put herself inside Aliea rather than let Marcellus claim her research. There was no telling what Marcellus would have done with that amount of power. Did she do the right thing? ... There was no place to think about that, now. This was the present, and nothing could turn back time. She had to live with her choice, regardless of what she thought of it.

Such choices appeared often in this world, after all. Those unable to live with their choices would never be able to stand at the forefront of this world of magicians.

@WiseDragonGirl has volunteered to assist with judging this time around, and as usual may have the first pick of stories to evaluate. Expect their announcement soon.
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