Dawn of the Void - Chapter 132
Becca was faster, stronger, could transform into a more powerful demon, and possessed Miracles that allowed her to overwhelm and destroy Olaf, who was a Lord of the Increate.
James tore himself free of the ruined building and flew up into the air, his mind processing this information even as he reeled. Mental Dominion meant he didn’t enter shock as he might once have; instead, he realized that not only had she gained access to a Reservoir Cube, but she had to have processed an even more powerful version or somehow multiple instances of one.
Time seemed to slow as he flapped his wings. Becca was leering down at the street where the rest of Crimson Hydra was gathered. The natural instinct was to slowly ramp up their attacks, to try multiple Words of Slaughter even as others Resurrected the fallen, then upgrade to summoning the Avatars of their Virtues, but there wasn’t time for that.
Bjørn had once chided him for being too conservative with their resources.
If only the dead man could see him now.
James pulled up his statistics sheet and focused on the angel summoning’s.
For a fraction of a second he considered the Throne, the single and most powerful weapon at his disposal, but then he thought of all the remaining layers of hell and instead elected for an Archangel, of which he could summon five.
A seam of golden light appeared in the air above them. Becca drew back, her mirth displaced by a frown, and then the seam tore asunder and a large man emerged, bewinged and fearsome.
The golden seam narrowed and lingered in the air, slowly fading away.
He was some ten feet tall, his frame that of a Greek god, bare chested with a massively corded neck. He wore a huge belt with a golden circle for a buckler from which a leather skirt fell over his thighs, and the straps of sandals encircled his broad calves up to the knee. His wings were sooty black and vast, his skin a burnished bronze, and upon his mane of black hair he wore a gleaming helm from whose temples rose twin axe-blades shaped like wings. Circlets of gold were wrapped around his heavily muscled arms, and bracers of black metal around his forearms.
His visage was sullen, striking, his brow low and broad, his smoldering and of the deepest blue. He gazed upon them all with a sinister intent, like a wolf considering prey, and then a blade appeared in his right fist, a sliver that burned so bright it seemed drawn from the heart of the sun.
“It has been too long.” His words were as dour as a judge’s. “But I am glad to now be of service. You shall perish.”
Becca glared at the angel, considered, then forced a laugh. “Rather than waste my resources here, I’ll take a raincheck.”
A portal of green fire appeared behind her into which she ducked and disappeared.
But not before the Archangel pointed his blade at her and unleashed a flash of light; a sunbeam flew faster than thought after her, and into the portal before it closed.
James allowed his demonic form to abate and dropped to the ruined rooftop below. He leaped to its edge and peered down at the avenue. Olaf was sitting up, hale and hearty, rubbing his head in confusion as Kerim knelt by his side.
That was two of their Resurrections used for the day.
Serenity appeared on the opposite rooftop, her Sig’s in hand, dropping her Invisibility to gape up at the angel who yet hovered, slowly beating his wings.
The angel frowned. “My apologies, lord. Your prey has escaped. Is there any other you wish destroyed?”
“Not immediately,” James called back. “Thank you. Can you tell where she went?”
“She remained within this city.” The angel gazed out over the rooftops. “Do you desire that I hunt her down?”
“You can do that?”
The angel’s only response was a sneer.
“Then sure, go for it. The last thing we need is her showing up at a bad moment down below.”
The Archangel twirled his blade lazily in his fist, enlivened by the command. “Then like a hound to the hunt I shall seek my prey.” And with that he gave a mighty beat of his black wings and burst away, moving so quickly that the air exploded in a clap of thunder.
“Dude,” said Jason, rising up alongside James on his Wing. “Did he just cause a sonic boom?”
Serenity holstered her Sigs and leaped across the avenue, soaring high and then dropping neatly beside James. “OK, real talk: I’m going to summon an Archangel to my room during our next downtime.”
Jason looked askance at her. “So that’s your type?”
Serenity pretended to wipe sweat from her brow. “Wasn’t right up till I saw him.”
“That was a jerk-ass angel,” said Yadriel, also rising up alongside Jason. “And what the fuck, when did Becca get so swole?”
“She got a Reservoir Cube,” said James. “Though I doubt she broke into a node to get one. More like the demons are playing fast and loose with their reserves.”
“Which makes sense,” added Serenity. “Right? If there’s one thing we can count on those fuckers to do is to play dirty. And giving folks who joined the dark side a power up seems right in line with their M.O.”
Jason rubbed the back of his head. “Then why didn’t she show up with a whole crew?”
“Because she thought we were gone for good,” said James. “Bjørn didn’t think too highly of me, remember? That must have rubbed off on her. She probably thought I would lead you guys downstairs like some dimwitted hero.”
“But y’all got me,” said Yadriel, giving them all an up-nod and leaning back with a sly grin. “What up?”
“But we got Yadriel,” said James. “Damn right. But she was more powerful than we were. The demons must have boosted her up higher.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Serenity looked over the retaining wall at Olaf below. “You OK down there, big guy?”
“Am OK,” Olaf shouted back, and gave two thumbs up. “Just a little dead. Did not take.”
“Just a little dead,” repeated Serenity under her breath. “What a world.”
“You think that angel’s gonna find her?” asked Jason, staring off toward Manhattan.
“I mean, if anything can.” The angel was already gone from sight. “Not what I was expecting though.”
“You’re right.” Serenity bit her lower lip.
“No, sorry girl, he didn’t mean it in a good way.” Yadriel grimaced. “He looked pissed, like some dude who can’t believe he got summoned by a bunch of punk as bitches to do their dirty work. I didn’t go to Mass much, but he sure didn’t look like no angel Father Rodriguez ever talked about.”
“More like Conan,” agreed Jason. “And what was he? A Dominion?”
“Just an Archangel.” Jason rubbed the back of his head. He still couldn’t get over how Becca had just thrown him into a building. “Got four left.”
Yadriel crossed his arms and leaned forward over the Wing’s saddle. “Between us all, we got – what? Seven times five… thirty-five… plus James’s four… thirty-nine more Archangels we can summon? Shit, we can summon one for every remaining layer and have… what’s thirty-nine minus twenty-seven?”
“Not twenty-seven,” said Jason. “We already cleared the first eight. Thirty-nine minus nineteen. That’s twenty layers left. Almost two Archangels per floor.”
Serenity rounded on Yadriel. “When did you get so sharp?”
“Baby I’m sharp from the moment I wake up till the moment I lay my head down on my sweet little pillow.” Yadriel grinned toothily at her. “Don’t tell me you just noticed?”
“That’s eight Thrones as well,” said James. “Nine, if Jessica can summon them. That’s going to make a huge difference as we go down.”
“Don’t forget we have the Angelic Host,” added Jason. “That’s ten each, eighty total. Damn. We could hit each floor with four Angelic Hosts, two Archangels, and a Dominion. Hit the last nine floors with the same plus Thrones and a couple extra Dominions thrown in for fun.”
“I like the sound of those numbers,” said James.
“Just one thing,” said Serenity. “The demons know we can do these summons, right?”
Yadriel raised an eyebrow. “They sure do now.”
“Then we’ll know what we’re bringing to these fights. I doubt they’ll just throw up their hands and go home because we dumped a bunch of Thrones on them.”
James frowned. “You think they’ll make the Pit harder?”
“Weren’t you just saying we can count on them to play dirty?”
They stood in silence for a spell, and then the other Wings rose up into view, James and Serenity’s tethered behind.
“That was some crazy shit,” said Denzel, all energized. “And that angel! Dude looked like Conan by way of Frazetta.”
“By way of who?” asked Yadriel.
“How do we know Becca won’t return again?” asked Kerim. “Or another like her?”
“Ultimately we don’t,” said James heavily. “Unless we want to spend our time playing cat and mouse.”
“Won’t there be another Castrum up and running in six or so hours?” Jason looked around the group. “Maybe instead of taking it down below we can leave it here on guard.”
Everyone nodded.
“You guys heal below?” asked James.
“Yeah, everyone we could get to.” Denzel frowned back at the street. “If we’d been like even five minutes later…”
“Let’s go talk to her accomplices,” said James. “Tie ‘em up and hand them over to Hackworth.”
They descended and entered the Marriott lobby. Operators and soldiers were emerging from the back, and for the next few moments everyone busied themselves in healing and binding the attackers. One had died from a blow to the head, but nobody felt like using their last Resurrection on him.
There were five of them, and after a couple of misguided attempts to escape they resigned themselves to their fates with bitter anger.
James hadn’t seen any of them before. He didn’t know if that was better than confronting traitors. On some level he’d thought Blue Light had attracted the best of the rankers out there, but here was living proof that the military approach had clearly not worked for everyone.
“All right,” he said, hands on hips, staring at the five. They sat with their backs to the wall, hands and ankles cuffed, a dozen guards with M4’s ready to take them down if they moved wrong. “We going to cut to the chase or do I need to hit you all with Terrify.”
They were a random collection, three men and two women, ages ranging from a gangly teen to a stout man in his late thirties. They would have made good Blue Light operators with their powers, but they recognized that they were as nothing compared to James and his crew.
“How’d you do it?” asked the oldest man. He looked to have once been an athlete who’d let himself get out of shape. “How’d you know when we were hitting you?”
“It was easy to figure out.” James squatted before them, hands hanging between his knees. “What were you trying to accomplish here? Just kill innocent people?”
“We were brainwashed,” said the oldest guy. “Becca forced us to do it.”
“Did she now?” asked Serenity. “Mind control?”
“Yeah.” The guy met her stare brazenly. “Now that’s she’s gone I can’t believe it happened.”
“Uh huh,” said Serenity, unconvinced.
Yadriel put his hand on James’s shoulder. “Let me talk to that guy.” He pointed at the teenage kid who was staring fixedly at the ground. “One on one.”
A bunch of questions came to James’s mind, but he just nodded and watched as Yadriel hauled the kid up and led him down the hallway. The youth didn’t struggle. Though they looked the same age, Yadriel was invincible compared to the kid’s demonic form power.
The older guy frowned after them.
“What is it?” asked Serenity. “Afraid your buddy’s gonna talk?”
“He’s not right in the head,” said the guy, leaning back with feigned indifference. “I wouldn’t be surprised by anything he said.”
Half an hour later Yadriel returned, the kid in tow, but now the dynamic was different, the kid seeming to have come alive, his brow furrowed, his lips pursed.
“Jones and I had a chat,” said Yadriel. “These guys here were part of a loose collective working out of north Queens.”
“Asshole,” hissed the older guy.
Jones flinched.
“They were led by Sarah – remember that homeless lady? Right up till Becca showed up. Becca killed Sarah and took over. Shit got dark.”
The older guy just shook his head.
“Shit got medieval, is what, and they ran a little ring of terror up there, taking what they wanted, forcing people who couldn’t get away to act like servants, killing demons and then partying all night. I mean, fuck y’all, they took the apocalypse seriously. They had sex parties.”
“Sex parties,” said Serenity, deadpan.
“For real! Actual fucking orgies!”
“Fucking orgies?” asked Serenity. “You mean the kind of orgies where people fucked?”
“Drugs, orgies, they executed people and shit. It got all Mad Max out there.” Yadriel sighed. “Anyways, they’re about a couple of hundred strong. Becca was calling the shots. Then a couple of days ago she just changed overnight. Insisted that everybody accept the Nem4 deal, you know the drill. Got real powerful, too, and her crew of eight fuck-ups got powerful with her.”
“There’s nine of them?” asked Jason with a groan.
“Yeah.” Yadriel nodded to Jones. “Just like us. But Becca told everyone that if they did shit right, they’d get promoted, too. All of these bitches here were hoping for a Reservoir Cube if they did this right.”
“Why didn’t all nine come at once?” asked James.
It was Jones who responded, tone morose. “They’ve already gone down deeper into hell. The demons are preparing them in some way. We weren’t told how. They’re waiting for you on level 18. They called it Bloodmere.”
“Bloodmere,” said Olaf softly. “That does not sound good.”
James frowned at Jones. “What do you mean, preparing them?”
“I don’t know.” The kid stared at the floor. “Becca made it sound like they were all becoming something more. Like a crazy promotion.”
“Great.” James rubbed the back of his head. “Jones, you’re doing good by talking.” James looked around and saw Star Boy listening in from one side. “Go with Star Boy here and show him on a map where this crew is up in north Queens.”
“You do that, son, and you’re worse than dead,” hissed the older guy in his thirties.
James hit him with Terrify, just a brief flash. The guy slammed back against the wall and went quiet.
Four Operators escorted Jones to one side with Star Boy.
“What do we do with them?” asked Serenity. “Same as the others?”
“Yep.” James rubbed at his eyes. “No room left for traitors. I’ll take care of this myself..”
“Then what?” asked Denzel quietly. “Back into hell?”
“Yeah.” James stood up straighter. “Back into hell. After I’ve taken care of these three we’ll go wreck the shit out of the ninth layer.”
