Chapter 140
Athela chugged a beer in one quick go, gasping for breath and wiping her mouth with a wide smile and a loud belch. âWhy so grumpy my guy!? Weâre having fun! Be happy!â
âIt wonât allow me to upload footage of the senatorâs death to prove myself innocent.â Riven stated grimly, popping another bottle of wine to feed to the vertical maw across his chest. âItâs beyond irritating that I was framed for this.â
Athela shrugged, kicked out her long slender legs, and popped another beer can with a fizzling sound. âYou should be thinking of the cortex as more of a propaganda machine than anything else. The forums are controlled by those who control the given area, with contested territories requiring a large fee to upload footage - or it may even completely deny it outright. If you want to upload footage, it usually canât be antagonistic to the dominant party in a sector. Thatâs how itâs always been.â
Further out to sea, the shimmering lights of the starry sky above reflected in shimmering patterns - setting a calm before the storm that was no doubt to come. Fay flew far overhead and further to the south, her figure only barely visible from here even with Rivenâs keen dark-sight.
âAre you and Fay alright?â Riven eventually asked, laying back to stare up at the cloudless heavens and crossing his legs. âI havenât ever seen you two go at it like that before.â
There was a pause, and Rivenâs gaze shifted over to where Athela had stopped halfway from bringing a beer can to her lips.
She met his gaze, frowned, and let out a sigh. âYeah. Itâs fine.â
Athelaâs right hand extended above her, and her flesh began to shift. Slowly but surely, the tiara Riven had given her not long ago started to come out of her hand like she was giving birth to it.
[Tiara of Silent Killing (Blood / Shadow Trinket): After successfully killing a target without being noticed by anyone else, gain a charge of critical strike. Your next unseen attack has a 100% chance to be a 2x - 8x critical hit, with multiplied damage coming in the form of kinetic burst energy from the strike site. Requires a 26% or higher Blood or
Shadow Pillar Affinity to wield, and the wearer must be female.]
âThatâs a neat trick.â Riven mused, watching Athela put the black tiara with inlaid rubies on her head, a bright smile adorning her features. âIs that a new ability?â
âNo!â Athela replied softly, tapping the tip of her tiara with her fingers daintily. âIâm just progressing my shapeshifting abilities and found out I can store small items like this. Not like a dimensional storage like that bag you have, but rather I can physically keep it on my body if itâs small enough.â
âGotchya. Iâve seen Fay wear her feathered boots and Azmoth keeps that large maul on him all the time, but I rarely see you wear the tiara. Iâd thought you just didnât like it.â
Athela gave him a surprised look, then let out a laugh. âRiven! I love it⦠I keep it hidden away because I donât want to accidentally lose or damage it.â
âBut isnât it supposed to be used?â Riven frowned in confusion. âIt has great stats.â
Athela pondered this, then nodded. âYes⦠but Iâd rather not wear it during fights in case it falls off when Iâm hit hard or something causes it to fall off! Just let me do my thing, ok!?â
âDoesnât that defeat the purpose of having it though?â
Athela smiled, then took the tiara off again and softly patted it. âNo. Itâs a keepsake. Itâs the first gift youâve ever given me, and I want to keep it safe.â
A warm feeling started growing in Rivenâs gut, and speechless - he merely stared back and didnât reply. There was nothing that needed to be said, and the three figures on the rooftop continued to drink until morning before Fay returned from her scouting trip.
But despite the feel-good energy Riven was experiencing now, this was merely the calm before the storm. And a very big storm it would be.
***
Lieutenant Bradley Cliff was a young man, aged 24, whoâd grown up in a military family who expected nothing less than excellence. Heâd attended one of the best military academies in the United States, had become an F35 fighter jet pilot, and was well on his way to making his father proud before the integration hit. Before he knew whatâd hit him, Bradley found himself dogfighting wyverns in the sky over Chicagoâs airspace as they breathed fireballs his way.
Killing a few of the monsters using the tech he had was the key to unlocking the cyborg class when he eventually hit the tutorial. That, and the fact that heâd had a microchip implanted in his right arm as part of an experimental trial run for some of the militaryâs more advanced communications systems back on Earth. Itâd ticked off the boxes heâd needed, and the Machine Foundational Pillar - along with the Integration Sub-pillar, had unlocked.
The Integration Pillar funnily enough had nothing to do with the actual âIntegrationâ of the planet. Rather, it had everything to do with integrating machine or mechanical parts into oneâs body. His first skill had been one that changed his right arm into a part-flesh part-mechanical energy weapon that heâd found in his seemingly hand-crafted tutorial made just for him. Then heâd upgraded his body with traits giving him bionic limbs, a titanium skeleton, and heâd acquired a new skill that gave his physical attacks kinetic energy blasts whenever he struck. Heâd acquired a built in engine-fueled plasma shield that could encompass an entire side of body with a half-orb of light-orange energy at will, and his bodyâs nanobots repaired damage far faster than normal humans could heal.
All in all, heâd gone down a route far different than normal people. Most of the classers had focused on acquiring new skills, with many of the classes either just supplying new skills at random or giving them a choice between skills and traits. When given the option, most people chose the martial arts, miracles or spells that the system supplied rather than the traits - but he was different.
He had 9 traits all focused on making him an unkillable half-machine beast.
Which is why he wasnât at all afraid while hunting down the monster thatâd killed Senator James, and carving a path through the dark tunnels in the hillside - mowing down the creatures that lived there to find the vampire and exact vengeance, was so far showing to be rather easy. The vampireâs minions were relatively weak compared to him, and he just made sure to keep ahead of the strike team at his back by a good distance so they were put in the least amount of danger at any given time. He could only hope the other strike teams were also faring this good, but he couldnât be everywhere at once.
*CRUNCH*
Bradleyâs half-titanium fist smashed through another of the wolf-sized insectoids, splattering its green guts across the hive tunnel floor before pulling his arm out of the large creature and throwing the corpse aside. Then it shifted back from a hand into the energy cannon version of his limb, glowing as it charged up another round of ammunition. The tunnel behind him occasionally sounded out or lit up with automatic rifle fire, targeting lasers swept from side to side, and Bradley continued on through the maze of passages while firing off pulses of energy from his right hand whenever he saw movement.
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Bradley touched his ear, opening up communications with the home base where General Florence, his most trusted officers, three of their best hackers, and their very best mapper were organizing the assault on the hive of mantis-like creatures at a safe distance. âStill no sign of the vampire, just more bugs. Are you sure this is the place?â
The patchy coms unit rang with static for a moment, before the voice of General Florence cut in. âWeâre certain. Our hackers tracked him here through the unique items he was wearing, we got a brief signature read on them for analysis before the vampire broke loose and took them back. A very similar signature is coming from this hillside. Weâve also received reports that people have been disappearing from this area for a while, and after interrogating that other vampire we found a few weeks ago - it makes sense that heâd set up here. Itâs a perfect location to attack from, on the border of the city where he can pick off prey to feed on easily. Just focus on your job and get it done, and Iâll be sure to make it known just how much of a hero you are, Lieutenant Cliff. Your country needs you, do not fail us here.â
Lieutenant Bradley Cliff nodded to himself, stepping around a corner into the darkness of a large, cavernous room that he couldnât see the end of. His right armâs energy cannon pulsed with neon orange light to illuminate further ahead, and upon feeling a sudden drop in the temperature - his plasma shield bloomed around him to encase him with a half orb of energy.
He scanned the area, still not seeing anything - but hearing the shifting sounds of something further back in the cave. He opened up coms again. âI just donât see how or why a vampire would be able to control so many of these creatures. They arenât registered as demons, and from what we know of the warlocks in our own city - he shouldnât be able to control more than a handful of creatures right now. It doesnât make any sense.â
Static again.
âYou have your orders, Lieutenant. Let us know when youâve found him.â
General Florence ended the coms, leaving Bradley frowning and alone at the head of his strike team while the lasers and flashlights of dozens of guns spread out across the room. Despite being a good soldier who followed orders to the T, Bradley couldnât help but be a little irritated that the general was so dismissive of the oddities here.
Something just didnât feel right about all of this.
âLieutenant?â One of the strike squad members asked to Bradleyâs left, a flashlight attached to the front of his weapon pointing out into the dark of the cave. âAre you ok?â
Bradley glanced over, nodded, and was about to reply when he stopped mid-sentence and peered harder into the gloom. Holding up a hand, he motioned for the rest of the strike squad to remain where they were - and he slowly walked forward with his energy cannon charged to max.
The translucent, orange plasma shield in front of him caused the air in front of him to shimmer as he went. His footsteps echoed throughout the cave, only interrupted by the distant shots of gunfire or explosions in other areas of the strange hive he found himself in. Ever more cautiously, he approached the side of the cavern wall - dismissed his shield, and reached out a hand to where a slimy gray substance was plastered to the stone.
The fingers of his left hand touched the substance, and he pulled his hand back to reveal a slimy, semi-sticky goo that dripped off and splattered against the floor. Looking back up, he reached out again and more forcefully pressed - noting how soft the substance was. It felt like a biological thing, a membrane, and this was further confirmed when the metal tips of his fingers punctured the membrane to reveal white skin underneath.
He gripped the camouflage membrane, tearing at it, letting gallons of fluid to spill out and wash over the stone floor. With the fluid came the body of a deathly white woman who was only barely alive. She hit the floor hard and motionlessly remained there, somehow still breathing despite the strange fluid leaking out of her mouth. She had bloodshot eyes that stared ahead without registering his presence, was completely naked, and had swollen green egg sacks growing out along her body - each ranging inbetween the size of a quarter and the size of a bowling ball.
There were dozens of them, and inside the larger eggs Bradley could see the insectoid embryos of these armored, mantis-like creatures that heâd been fighting through the tunnels. Then, looking around, he realized that there were dozens upon dozens of these camoflogued sacks lining the wall. âHoly shitâ¦â
One of the men whoâd been closer to the scene pulled off his mask and vomited, while another shied away - not wanting to look upon the grotesque figure in front of them thatâd once been a woman whoâd no doubt been pretty in days past.
A clicking sound echoed off the stone walls, and shadows in Bradleyâs periphery moved in a blur. He whirled around, not finding the culprit of the motion - but then heard the sound of guns and bodies hitting the floor behind him.
âLevel 39. An S-Rank classer⦠A cyborg. How cute.ân/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
Bradley turned around, eyes narrowed, as the light of the flashlights on the ground illuminated the decapitated bodies of his entire squad. Blood was oozing from their wounds, and a sensation of cold dread overcame him when he stared back into the peripheral shadows where four eyes were gleaming a sickly yellow in the dark.
A huge frame, larger than a truck, stepped forward with large, sharp, chitinous legs - snapping spines and crunching stone in stark contrast to the silence the creature had moved with only moments before during the assassination of his people. Rows of sharp teeth smiled devilishly back at him, and Bradleyâs skin started to sweat when he took a step back.
âYou have entered my home uninvited, I do not know how you found my lair, but I thoroughly welcome this.â The figure in the dark snickered, and from all along the ceiling and walls - dozens, then hundreds of gray, armored, insectoid bodies with yellow eyes starting peeling off the stone to glare at Bradley. âWithout aerial support, and trapped deep underground, you will be far easier to pin down - Lieutenant Cliff. Hero of Chicagoâs sheep. I had been planning various ways of luring you into an enclosed space so that I may more easily kill you before ransacking the city. Being a ranged artillery specialist with your primary weapon being an energy cannon, it surprises me that you'd so obviously walk into a battlefield that suits you so poorly. Even despite the rumored traits you have that amplify your defensive capabilities. But I digress... you've made my job all that much easier by waltzing down here of your own accord.â
More and more of the creatures began to move, encircling Bradleyâs position with blades flashing. Things Bradley had thought to be boulders of stone were actually in fact creatures, far larger and many sporting abnormal evolutions beyond what heâd witnessed in the weaker of their brethren up until now. His eyes were wide, his heart beat furiously, and the energy cannon on his arm thatâd brought him victory through so many battles up until now suddenly seemed very inadequate.
There were too many.
How had he not picked up on these creatures before?
Static reached Bradleyâs ears. âLieutenant, weâve just lost contact with five of the seven other strike teams. They are unresponsive, and⦠Hold. It was just reported that one of the other strike teams encountered an ambush and are in full retreat. Give us a status report, are you able to pull back and assist? We have reinforcements gearing up to head in, and weâd like you to rendezvous with Captain Marshal at the nest entrance.â
The cavern shook, when the largest of the creatures who'd been talking to him flashed forward and slammed into Bradleyâs side, shattering the plasma shield and sending the usually sturdy cyborg crashing into the stone wall with a sonic boom. Bradleyâs cannon discharged with everything he had in an orange beam of plasma, ripping through dozens of enemies simultaneously as a swarm of hungry predators tore from all sides - plunging him into darkness. Ripping, tearing sounds could be heard amidst muffled screams as pieces of flesh and metal flew through the air.
An electrical discharge began to spark beneath the piling bodies. It surged, writhed, and built over long seconds of agonizing torture, where the man struggled with desperate swings to try and kill as many of the enemy as he could - but they kept on coming.
Until he let it loose.
Power erupted in a storm of lightning around Bradley, frying dozens and then hundreds of the large scythe-bearing creatures in a torrent of energy that left the cyborg gasping for breath. His hands shook, his mana levels were at rock bottom, and desperation was beginning to etch itself into his subconsciousness. "I need to get out of here!"
"Lieutenant!" The coms unit in his ear rang again, this time much more urgent from one of the communication officers back at base. "Command is under attack! I repeat, command is under attack! We have thousands of incoming hostiles, we are in need of your assistance!"
He pushed off corpse after corpse with rasping breaths, digging himself out of a mountain of fried bodies. He only hoped he'd killed all of them after expending all of his resources to deal with the ambush, and ignored the further desperate requests for help over the coms until he found himself staring face to face with four gleaming yellow eyes while still half-buried in an army of enemies.
His face paled, and rows of gleaming teeth smiled back with sinister intent.
Then the sinister, deep voice echoed through the cave one more time. âOverconfidence is a flimsy shield, Lieutenant Cliff. A very flimsy shield indeed.â