Aetheral Space-Chapter 451:15.5: Barrage

"Hey!" said Wolfram cheerfully. "Miss Blaine. It’s been a while!"

Ruth looked down at the young boy. He’d been around twelve back on Elysian Fields, so how old was he now? Fourteen, maybe fifteen? Back then, as the battle had ended, he’d been terrified. Ruth wouldn’t have blamed him for never wanting to so much as throw a punch again.

And yet, he was here with these people -- and he was the strongest of them? What the hell was going on?

"I, uh, I got something on my face?" Wolfram frowned at her silence.

"Hey," Ruth ventured. "You’ve not got, like, a bomb in your head or something, have you?"

Wolfram blinked. "Huh?"

"Well, I mean," Ruth jerked a thumb back at the Widow behind her. "This lady seems really shady, so I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s how she put this Vantablack Squad thing together. You don’t obey, you get your head blown up, that kind of thing?"

Wolfram slowly shook his head. "No. I don’t have a bomb in my head."

"Are you sure? She could have put it in there without you knowing."

"I’m pretty sure."

"If you’re quite satisfied," the Widow cleared her throat before turning to Wolfram. "Report, boy?"

Wolfram stepped over from the entrance to the cave, taking a seat by the fire. "It’s like we thought," he said seriously. "This whole place is crawling with godsb… with Aether Awakenings, ma’am. I took out the weaker ones I found, but there were some I thought I shouldn’t mess with."

Bruno’s face darkened, barely illuminated by the fire, and -- as Ruth watched -- his expression receded to be replaced by Serena’s. She seemed surprised for a moment, blinking, before joining the conversation in his place.

"There didn’t used to be Awakenings down here," she said thoughtfully, putting a finger to her chin. "These tunnels were just for moving stuff around and for setting stuff up. You know, like how in theme parks, they have behind-the-scenes parts where the mascots can take their heads off and stuff? It’s like that."

"I’ve never been to a theme park," Wolfram said with great interest.

"Oh, they’re great," Serena grinned widely. "Last year, me and Bruno had to chase this guy through a theme park! We didn’t get to go on any of the rides, and the guy did die… but I really loved the atmosphere!"

"You know," Sam Set mumbled. "I might have a bomb in my head, now that I think about it."

"Seriously?" Ruth asked, raising her eyebrows.

Alcera quickly slapped the back of Set’s head, and he sighed. "No," he admitted.

The Widow had clearly given up on managing their nonsense. While the rest of them talked, she reached into her cloak and pulled out a script. Tapping a few buttons on the screen, she held it out flat.

"Noon," she said. "Are you there?"

For a moment, there was silence.

"Noon!" the Widow barked.

A yelp of surprise sounded out from the script. "Yes! Yes, I’m here! Just hold on!" a tinny voice rang out, followed by the sounds of rummaging. "Uh, hologram, which one’s the hologram, oh jeez louise…"

Sam exchanged a look with Ruth as he got up. "That’s the member of our team we were talking about," he explained. "When the ship got destroyed, she managed to land outside the danger zone. Nice for some, huh?"

"Ah! There, there we go!"

The screen of the script flickered blue -- and a small hologram appeared floating over it. A young Cogitant woman with snow-white hair and glasses. Ruth frowned as she watched the tiny woman fiddle with something out of view.

Had she met her before? She had! This woman had been heading to the Arena of the Absolute, back during the finals for the Dawn Contest. They’d talked for a minute on the transport.

From the look on the woman’s face as she glanced around the cave, it didn’t seem she recognised Ruth, but that only made sense. She’d been wearing a disguise back then, after all.

"Oh, wow," Noon said. "There’s a whole lot more of you than before, huh? These are the guys from the ship that just went down?"

Serena squatted down next to the Widow, bringing herself face-to-face with the hologram. "So you’re outside the city right now?" she asked. "How come you can’t go to the dome?" She looked up at the Widow. "How come she can’t go to the dome?"

"Uh, well…" Noon fidgeted. "The thing about that is, ehe… I’m kinda not an Aether-user."

Morgan frowned, looking down at the hologram. "What?"

"Well, you see, I’m a former Watchwoman -- from Rakebone, you know?" Noon explained quickly. "I’ve got five years of experience, and I’m specialized in taking out Aether-users at a distance. Over in Rakebone, they don’t really like Aether that much -- since they need Aether-users to match the strength of other members of the council, they just recruit prisoners. Like that guy Forgiveness Irons, you know? I’m a law-abiding citizen, though, so I just make do with Neverwire and my rifle!"

Ruth blinked. "Right."

"Just nod when she pauses for breath," Sam advised.

"So you don’t wanna go to the dome because…" Serena ventured.

"Well, if there’s bad stuff going on over there, they’re 100% going to have some sort of guards -- and if that lightning-user breaks away from you guys’ distraction and comes after me while I’m there, I’m toast anyway! I’m a sniper, you know? I don’t live long when I start getting close to stuff."

"Oh, you’re a coward!" Serena kindly realized.

"Yeah!"

"The point is…" the Widow grumbled. "...we’ll need someone else to actually make their run for the dome. Wolfram is slow when he’s big, but small when he’s fast… not suitable. Set here is only hypothetically useful, in a physical sense. My running days are long behind me, and Alcera is more of a defensive fighter anyway. How about you people? Who’s the fastest among you?"

Serena and Morgan considered the question for a moment…

…before, as Ruth already knew they would, those two pairs of eyes slid over to look at her.

"This is a bad idea," Sam Set muttered to himself as he got into position for the first run, right at the mouth of a tunnel leading to the surface. "This is such a bad idea."

Seriously, what had he done to deserve this? He’d committed what technically might have been fraud, sure -- but, come on, it had been borderline! It had been against his workplace, too, which was basically a public service as far as he was concerned. Those bastards stole from the public and they were upstanding citizens, but he stole from the bastards and he was suddenly a criminal. He hadn’t even gotten to keep the money, either.

He shouldn’t have taken the deal -- he recognised that now. When the Widow showed up in his jail cell, he definitely shouldn’t have taken the deal. He’d been offered a reduced sentence -- he just hadn’t realized being killed in action would fit that description just as well as walking free.

The things he’d been party to in Vantablack Squad were far worse than the things that had got him locked away in the first place. The conclusion of their deal was drawing close, but if they wanted him to stay, they had all the leverage they needed to make that happen. He’d signed away his freedom forever.

What a life.

"Hey," whispered Alcera.

Well, maybe it wasn’t that bad.

Alcera stepped up beside him, looking up at the pitch-black sky, and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

"You okay?" she asked, leaning in towards his ear, her voice barely audible.

Alcera Nox didn’t like to talk. Even when she spoke to Sam, it was never louder than a whisper, and she didn’t talk to anyone else at all. Apparently, she’d been able to talk before the events on the UniteRegent -- before she’d been recruited into Vantablack Squad -- but now there was some kind of mental block.

Sam nodded. "I’m good."

Alcera narrowed her eyes. "Liar."

"Well, I’m fine," he corrected himself, looking up towards the surface. "It’s not going to be fun, but I’ll do it. I’ve done stuff like this before, right? It’s not like I’m actually putting myself at risk."

"Sure?"

"I’m sure," he sighed. "Besides, do you think the Widow would really take no for an answer?"

Alcera turned her head over her shoulder, looking at the distant figure of the Widow as she bossed around the others, and narrowed her eyes further. She leaned in even closer, her breath tickling against Sam’s ear.

"I could kill her now, you know," she said. "If you give me some forecasts, I think I could probably get her now."

"She’ll be expecting it," Sam replied, looking straight ahead. "If she sees the two of us talking on our own like this, she’ll be ready for us to try something. Besides, Wolfram is here. You can’t take both of them on."

Alcera frowned. "You know I wouldn’t attack Wolfram."

"Well, there you go, then," Sam shrugged. "The Widow’s human shield serves his purpose."

He took a deep breath. No point putting this off -- he had three more to go after this. Alcera took his hand again.

"Just remember," she urged him. "It’s not real. Even if it feels real, it’s not."

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"Well," Sam sighed. "The feeling is enough for me."

Sam Set’s ability, Only I, was a rather unusual form of precognition. Instead of simply providing him with predictions, it forced him to experience a simulation of the future based on the ability’s forecasts. He would experience the future it foresaw as it were reality for about five hours -- or until he died.

In essence, it produced the illusion of looping time.

Only I.

It was impossible to tell when the world around him stopped truly existing, but Sam knew that it had.

He let go of a hand that didn’t exist, ran with legs that didn’t exist, and sprinted out into a street that did not exist.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Oh… he thought, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and alert. This is gonna suck.

"She’s there," Sam Set said, his face pale, thumping his finger down on the top-right corner of the map. "I’m sure of it."

"How?" Morgan asked, standing opposite him.

"I told you," Sam sighed. "My ability lets me experience potential futures. I went to four tunnels in each corner of the city, and I saw what would happen if I ran out there. If you look at the speed that thing was moving at when she came for me, and the direction she was coming from, you can figure out where she’s stationed."

"And you’re sure?" Morgan repeated.

"I just said I’m sure."

"His workings check out," the Widow nodded, vouching for the Cogitant.

A second Cogitant opinion -- that of Amantha Noon -- came in over the script. "Yep! I see what he means."

"Okay," Sam said. "So we’re agreed? She is there."

Serena stepped forward from where she’d been lurking back, arms crossed. Ruth frowned. Bruno hadn’t shown his face for a while, had he?

"Just because we know where she is," Serena noted. "Does that mean we can fight her? You said she kicked our asses in your vision. Why would this be different?"

"Remember what we said about the ten seconds before the thing attacks?" Sam asked.

"No," Serena replied.

"Okay, you weren’t listening then, because I did say that. Basically, once you go up to the surface and get her attention, you’ve got ten seconds until she reaches you and attacks you. The thing is, though -- until those ten seconds are up, she won’t attack you no matter what. She’ll dodge, and she’ll block, but she won’t retaliate."

"So we can get some hits in," Ruth nodded.

The Widow’s eyes flicked over to her. "We can get some hits in, yes. You will be making a beeline for the Sed proper, as agreed."

Ruth scowled at the old woman. She didn’t much like the idea of leaving her friends to fight while she ran, and she especially didn’t like doing it at this woman’s behest. There was one person she was happy to take orders from, and he no longer existed in this world.

But… it made sense. Ruth gritted her teeth.

"Right," she said.

"Phase one," Sam Set said as he hunched over the map. "Will be our heavy-hitters. The Widow, Wolfram, and Nacht. Wolfram and Nacht -- you hit the enemy with the strongest attacks you’ve got, do as much damage as possible. Nacht, you’ll be needed for transport for phase two so you retreat back underground right after you launch your attack. While the enemy is busy reacting to all that, the Widow will use her ice to restrain it. Then…"

"...then it’s me," Annatrice del Sed said quietly.

Ruth nearly jumped. How long had it been since the girl had actually said anything? Just like Bruno, she’d seemed to retreat further into herself the longer they spent here. This place didn’t have happy memories for anyone.

"Then it’s you," the Widow echoed curtly. "Are you ready? I’m told you’re quite something."

Annatrice hesitated for a moment… before nodding, just slightly.

"I’ve got one more question," Serena spoke up, raising a finger.

"What?" Sam sighed.

"When you talk about that thing up top, you keep saying ’she’ and ’her’. Is it a girl? How do you know?"

"I’ve just been ripped in half by that thing four times, up close and personal," Sam said bluntly. "She looked like a girl."

"It doesn’t matter what it is," the Widow said. "Very soon… it’ll be a corpse."

The cane came down.

Thump.

The Weapon stood atop the skeleton of a building, masked face angled up towards the sky. White hair hung down its back like a limp curtain. If it was even breathing, it was very slight -- anyone watching could have mistaken it for one of the mannequins that populated this fake city.

Not today, though.

The first attack came from above. An arrow of smoke, arcing through the sky, aimed right for the building the Weapon was using as a perch. It held a payload of light -- the faux-Almighty that its user had developed during the events of the Banquet.

But that wasn’t all.

Morgan Nacht had not been idle during his time on Serendipity. He understood that now he and Muzazi were outside of the Supremacy, stripped of titles and protections, they were in more danger than ever. He couldn’t allow himself to slow down just because of a temporary reprieve.

And, as such…

"M."

Many.

The arrow split into dozens of tiny copies of itself, the precision shot becoming a cluster of projectiles in an instant, filling the sky with dots of purple. Visually, it was impressive, but anyone watching might have thought this was the wrong choice against this stationary target. While the area the attack covered had widened, the size and strength of the attack had also been diluted. There was little practical benefit in doing this.

Normally, that would have been true. But Morgan Nacht had found himself trapped on the Sed with a certain someone.

"Guardian Entity," whispered Wolfram. "Byakko."

The arrows enlarged again -- and now the sky was filled with projectiles that dwarfed even the original, each hurtling down with monstrous momentum. Any person watching would surely have accepted their death at such a sight -- even if they ran, they would understand they stood no chance of escape. But the Weapon was not a person. It hadn’t been for quite some time now.

It calmly observed the projectiles as they rained down around it, light shining within their forms for just a split second before --

"Radiant Almighty!"

-- the land was bleached with fire.

The explosion was deafening, and the explosion was bright. The impromptu bombing run created a pillar of flame that stretched up far past the skyscrapers -- and the sound of rattling windows was audible for miles around. The smoke alone was enough to fill the streets entirely, and anyone below surely would have choked.

And yet.

The Weapon launched itself up out of the inferno, so fast that it was visible only as a perfectly straight line of blue Aether, surrounded by sympathetic sparks. Weaving around the rest of the arrows as they continued to fall and explode, it finally came to a stop -- standing upon the sky once again, looking down at the glass crater Morgan’s attack had created in the middle of the city.

Needless to say, that had been loud enough to grab its attention.

Ten.

Morgan launched another arrow up into the sky -- and that arrow split once more into countless copies. It wouldn’t be as successful. The Weapon understood it now.

It raised a hand and fired off a volley of lightning bolts, each scorching an arrow out of existence with pinpoint accuracy. None were even able to get near it.

Nine.

The bark of a gunshot rang through the air -- and the Weapon moved again, this time letting itself drop to avoid the sniper bullet aimed for its skull. Amantha Moon and her rifle were far outside of the Weapon’s faint electromagnetic field, but the moment the bullet entered that expansive space, it was able to dodge immediately.

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Eight.

As Morgan retreated underground with Inside, accepting that his part in this was done, Wolfram made his move. The boy jumped out from within the tunnel, sprinting towards the Weapon as it created another invisible platform beneath itself. If they were going to pull this off, they needed the Weapon on the ground.

Seven.

"Guardian Entity," Wolfram breathed as he ran. "Byakko! 100%!"

Earlier, in the caves, Wolfram had used a nigh-instantaneous shrink-grow sequence to create pressure and push his enemies away. Now, he did the opposite. In the blink of an eye, Wolfram grew himself to an absurd size -- and then returned himself to his original stature.

In the space he’d just occupied and released, a vacuum was created…

…and the vacuum pulled.

Six.

The Weapon was pulled out of the air, its limbs flailing like a ragdoll as it allowed itself to be sucked down towards the street. It didn’t bother to dodge. Just having its body moved around like this didn’t qualify as something needing to be dodged, it seemed.

But this was still just the set-up.

Five.

The moment the Weapon landed on the ground, digging its heels in to keep itself stationary, the Widow acted. Light blue Aether hissed -- and a torrent of freezing air flooded the entire street. Within a moment, almost everything had been coated in thick layers of solid ice, transmogrified into twinkling sculptures -- the buildings, the cars, the mannequins.

But not the Weapon.

It stood motionless in the middle of the blizzard, an electric barrier crackling furiously around it -- producing enough heat to melt the ice before it could reach its body.

Four.

Wolfram didn’t hesitate. He ran forward, tearing free a huge icicle from the ground and shrinking it in one movement. Once it was barely the size of a pencil, clutched between two fingers, he hurled it with all his strength towards the distant enemy.

And then he enlarged it again.

The problem with the frozen wind was that, fast as it was, it still wasn’t fast enough to reach the Weapon before melting. Wolfram’s maneuver was intended to get around that. Even once it had grown to fill nearly the entire road, the icicle still retained the momentum it had possessed when it was miniscule.

Wolfram had quite the throwing arm…

…and so the icicle struck the Weapon at the speed of sound.

Three.

This one the Weapon could not dodge, only block. It raised her arms, pushing against the icicle as it slammed into it -- the sheer force of the blow still sending it skidding backwards down the streets of the city. Long, thin trails of melted concrete marked its backwards passage, as if the Weapon was skiing through stone.

The Widow was ready for this.

With a wave of her hand, she erected a wall of ice behind the Weapon -- and so their enemy was smashed between the icicle and the barrier. For anyone else, that surely would have been a killing blow, but the Widow had seen how fast arrogance could kill.

This was still just the set-up.

Two.

Indeed, the Widow had been surprised when she’d heard about it. That quiet girl, really? But her companions had insisted it had happened, and she’d seen no traces of falsehood in their eyes. The Widow had no choice but to accept it as true.

That child, Annatrice del Sed, could use Der Freischütz.

One.

"Now!" the Widow roared, signalling Nacht to bring their trump card forth…

…but nothing happened.

Zero.

The Weapon moved.

Oh, kurva, thought the Widow.

Underground, amidst darkness and stone, Morgan Nacht fell to one knee. Blood oozed from the bullet wound in his back, and his face was contorted in agony… but he still held his sword ready in his hand. He intended to protect Annatrice, to protect the girl behind him, to the end. That, perhaps, was admirable.

"I observed it." His attacker spoke in a calm monotone, stepping into the dim light. "Your ability. I, isn’t it called. Just a letter. How strange. Right after you use it, there’s a moment where you’re vulnerable. I didn’t miss that."

Annatrice took a step back, and the attacker’s eyes flicked over to observe her instead.

"Annatrice del Sed, right. Basically…"

Two shadows with glowing white eyes, loomed out from behind the man -- one a bestial hound, the other a humanoid jester. As Annatrice watched, the jester oozed into the stranger’s body, ejecting a towering figure in a hat and trenchcoat instead.

"... you’re coming with us!" Tybalt del Sed said cheerfully, braid falling down his head.