Early mornings were always my favorite time of day, the one time when most people weren’t moving around.  It was a nice dip in stimulus and noise I had to sort through. It was one of the few times I allowed more than twenty percent of my body to rest and shut down.  Truth be told I envied everyone else who could actually sleep; even while we were on the ship coming over to Vuuldar, I had only let half of my body truly rest.   

Most of me was networked around the hill, reaching out nearly two kilometers into the town.  I didn’t have enough of me there to do anything substantial. It was just feelers to see if Zellig’s cronies were going to try and do anything cheeky as our inevitable conflict drew closer.  

Titan’s initial plan to sabotage the militia that Zellig recruited had been a smashing success.  We had stalled their progress and bought ourselves back a few desperately needed days to continue work on the ship.  Even with Adapted working round the clock, there was so much to do. I had started devoting around twenty percent of my body to help with removing the clutter Mizu was cutting away.  

It helped speed things up, but not by enough for my liking.  

The others were okay with this planet, not really noticing the differences, not like I did.  They didn’t move around with half their body buried in the dirt that was fundamentally different from the soil on Tso’got.  I wasn’t used to tasting this many metals in the soil, or having to fight through this much clay as I tried to network myself under the city.  Truth be told, with enough time I might come to like the way it tasted more than the polluted soil on Tso’got, but at least that was familiar.  

A small sliver of me was left watching over Titan, keeping an eye on him to see when he’d wake up.  He hated that I did this, but like every other Adapted, I was paranoid. Most people just couldn’t keep an eye on you at all hours of the day but I could.  I was his surveillance system, his network for information gathering, and that wasn’t exactly a gift I could really shut off.  

Sure, I was powerful in a fight, but that wasn’t my greatest strength.  If things needed to die, Infinite was a far better tool.  

Just like I kept an eye on Titan, I kept an eye on her too.  

Charlotte was too dangerous and too volatile to be left alone.  If Titan was to go berserk, he could kill a dozen people before I could intervene and isolate him; if Charlotte went berserk, we all died.  Titan had done a good job not relying on her for too much thus far, but I worried that eventually he’d have to use her.  

The other person I made a point to watch constantly was Eldritch.  He was intended to have been a panic button for Titan’s little expedition into the militia’s war front.  Instead, he had been cut down and nearly captured along with several others. Having to be saved by Bargain was weighing on him.  Without any of his immediate teammates to really share with, he had been recessed and withdrawn.  

Isolated Adapted were the ones who Altered in my experience.  The last thing I wanted was to be surprised if he snapped. His Neklim form was already performing absurd mutations thanks to duress; I wasn’t thrilled that Titan’s biggest key for the inevitable battle was a mentally destabilized teenage boy who was spending most of his time walking in a circle, talking to the voice inside his head.

Admittedly I was biased. I wasn’t thrilled about seeing him enabled to replicate Feast Day, especially after his Neklim counterpart had started developing more and more deadly biological weapons. Trying to restrain Eldritch had been impossible then; how much harder would it be if he was made of crystal or spitting out some kind of targeted acidic gas?  

“Forest,” I heard, “You around?”

I changed my focus, letting the other twenty-five points of vision fade to the background, instead adjusting my focus to Infinite who had called out for me.  Shifting a little bit of my body, I sprouted my ‘form’: a girl dressed in a white shirt with baggy brown pants. “I’m always around. You should know that by now.”

Infinite smiled nervously, “I know I should, but stil, seems rude to just assume you’re always watching.”

“What do you want, Charlotte?”

People assumed that I was terse because I was rude or didn’t understand the proper bounds of social etiquette.  Truth be told, I understood fine, but I was constantly listening to dozens of voices and watching dozens of streams of visual input, trying to process it all.  Even though Titan and Big Picture were pretty sure that my Adaptation changed the way I see the world, so much information was dizzying.

I kept everything short and sweet just so I didn’t risk missing something important.  

Even though I’d known Infinite for as long as Titan had, the two of us were always a bit disconnected from one another.  We recognized how important the other was, but I was worried about how unstable she was while Infinite saw me as unapproachable.  

“I’m just worried, and I wanted to talk with someone who might get it,” she confessed. 

“Worried?  Why?”

“It’s…it’s finally happening, you know?  This isn’t going to be some small scrap between a few people and the Trillodan elite.  This is going to be us really taking on the Trillodan. We’re going to go to war with Zellig Ak’aan.”  She shuddered, “I’m worried that we might not make it out of this okay.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.  “Charlotte, you realize how absurd that statement is coming from you?  You of all people are the least vulnerable or likely to be exposed. Titan won’t send you out there if he can avoid it.” 

“What if he can’t?”

I shrugged, “Then you go out and kill a bunch of people.”  I got a flash of movement as Titan rolled over in his sleep, muttering something in his sleep.  Blinking slowly, I put my focus back on my conversation with Infinite.”Listen, Titan’s smart and he’s got a lot of good tricks going for us.  Ideally, there isn’t a big fight and everything goes according to plan.”

“Plans never survive contact with the enemy,” Infinite replied, “I mean, if things were according to plan, I’d still be in orbit around Vuuldar.” 

“But we’ve made it this far, so stop being so damn nervous,” I insisted.  “You’re Infinite. You can do damn near anything. Stop being so scared of a little conflict and let yourself be a badass bitch.  If we manage to burn through all of Titan’s plans to end the conflict quickly, you’ll be up.  If you’re right and things go south, you need to be ready.”

She nodded, seemingly a tad invigorated, “Okay.  I can do that.” 

“Good.  Now-”

I stopped as something came into view that was impossible.  At the base of the hill, I saw a familiar figure approaching.  

“Forest?  What is it?”

“Parasite,” I whispered, switching my visual focus to better look at him, “He’s here.”  Even though reclaiming one of our own should be a good thing, something was so very wrong.  His body language was off and he was moving slowly, like he was heavier or burdened by something.  Instead of his head raised, he was practically staring at his feet. If he escaped the Trillodan, he should have been elated, not cripplingly morose.  “I’m going to wake up Titan and see Parasite,” I told Infinite as my form withdrew.  

I quickly made a form by Titan and one a few meters in front of Parasite.  Adjusting focus, I spoke through the form next to Titan as I shook our leader.  “Sorry for having to wake you, but something’s happening. Parasite’s back. I’m going to talk to him.  Infinite is awake and on the flight deck overlooking things now,” I said, preempting him asking where she was.  

He nodded and I dispersed that form, diverting focus back to Parasite who had come a few steps closer but was being unusually cautious.  “How?” I asked. 

“I was let go,” he said, tentatively, like he was waiting for me to crush him.  “I need to talk to Titan.”

I folded my arms as I looked back at him, “That’s not going to happen unless you can give me something much more convincing.  The Trillodan haven’t let anyone go. Why are you suddenly the first? For all I know, Parasite, Zellig put a bomb in your chest that will go off when you get close enough to the rest of us.”

“No!  It’s not like that at all,” he promised sincerely.  “Zellig sent me back, he said that he had a message that I needed to give to Titan.”

Part of me wondered if I shouldn’t just smother him now to avoid any kind of interference that Zellig had sent with him.  His talk about a message was at least interesting, and I wouldn’t put it past the Trillodan commander to do something like that; ever since he’d started leading the charge against us, he and his troupe had a bit of a flair for the dramatic.  

“Follow me,” I said as I led him up the rest of the hill, glad that there weren’t too many people out.  Parasite was fairly popular with the rest of the Adapted, so the few who saw him were elated. Ragoll literally launched himself into our path, demanding a big hug from his fellow Enhancer.

“But you’re back,” Ragdoll said, still trying to process that information.  “What happened up there?” 

Parasite tried to put on his usual grin, that affable and frustrating look that he always wore… but it faltered.  He managed to finally put on a good face but it took too long to be authentic. “A hell of a lot. I need to talk to Titan, but maybe I can tell you afterward?” 

“Of course!” Ragdoll said enthusiastically, giving him another pat on the back, “Do what you gotta do.” 

I continued leading him into the ship, past a handful of other Adapted who were thrilled to see him back.  Most didn’t seem to notice his change in demeanor, but a few people did. Psycho saw him, as did Lightshow.  Even though Lightshow rushed to him and gave him a hug, she knew something was wrong. Psycho seemed to regard him with a new kind of respect almost, like they had some unspoken bond.  

Something must have happened to Parasite to make him Alter.  Such a niche experience that seemed to bind some onboard together.

“Where’s Nick and Alexis?” Parasite asked as we approached the flight deck.  

“Dragoon is getting some sleep.  She’s been working overtime getting this ship ready. Eldritch has been locking himself away, and you’ll likely want some time with him. After we talk with Titan, you should go see Eldritch.”  While I was still suspect of Parasite’s miraculous reappearance, getting some stability for the boy who was walking around in circles talking to himself would be very welcome.  

As we walked in, I saw that same glimmer of recognition from Infinite, all but confirming my suspicion.

“You managed to make it back!” Titan said with a smile.  “But, I think I speak for all of us when I admit that I’m curious as to how.”

Parasite looked between all three of us, clearly unsure how to start.  “I-um, uh-”

“Don’t worry,” Infinite said, her voice full of sympathy, “Take your time.  I know how hard it is.”  

Ever the quick witted and intuitive, Titan glanced at Infinite and saw the way she was looking at Parasite, picking up the same cue that I had.  “Parasite,” he said, his voice a bit softer, “What happened?” 

“They’re keeping us in fucking tubes,” he said, his voice shaky, “So many of us, just sitting there, asleep.  They keep us sedated so we don’t Alter while we’re being experimented on. They keep us under with some kind of neural blocker thing that basically puts us in a coma.  I only woke up because the thing inside me ripped mine off. I woke up while they were operating on me, trying to dig my passenger out.” 

Infinite shuffled a little, unable to stand still.  “That isn’t what made you Alter though, is it?”

Slowly, he shook his head, his stare going well beyond the confines of the room.  “Zellig came for me. I took his scientist hostage, but they got him away from me.  I tried to fight him but-but-”

“It’s okay,” Titan said, stepping forward to pull Parasite into a hug.  “You did the best you could.”

For a moment, the only sound was Parasite trying to stifle a sob as he clutched on Titan’s shirt.  After a moment of open vulnerability, he straightened himself and wiped his nose. “Zellig sent me back with a message, but I don’t know that you want to hear it.  The more I think about it, the more I realize it’s just mind games.”

Titan frowned, “What did he say?”

Parasite gave one more nervous look to the three of us, as if we were going to attack him.  “He said that before we leave Vuuldar, he’s going to take one of you three.” 

I shifted my focus outside of the room, looking through the majority of the ship and surrounding area to ensure that no one had followed Parasite.  To my surprise, everything was as it should be: people were still asleep, the Ellayan camp had no new activity, and no one was approaching the hill.  Parasite was truly alone, not some kind of decoy. Unless, of course, there was something left on his person.  

“Infinite, search him,” I insisted.  

She nodded, her eyes flaring green as she allocated a few powers to search for any kind of threat against us.  “He’s clean. There’s really nothing on him that would threaten us.”

Titan frowned, “Zellig doesn’t seem like one to simply make threats aimlessly, but then again he also recognizes the value of causing panic.  If he makes us overly cautious or overly aggressive, we could be playing right into his hands. I wouldn’t bother worrying too much about this.”

Parasite wrung his hands, “Are you sure you should ignore his threat?  Are you sure that you’ve got everything planned well enough?” 

Titan turned to Infinite, “Is he clean of bugs?” 

“Yes.  Nothing mechanical on him or in him for that matter.  If there was even a screw in his knee, I’d know and I’d be able to read you the serial number on it,” she snapped.  

“Parasite,” he said, “You haven’t gotten a chance to see or hear what we’re planning.”

“You’re going to use Nick, aren’t you?” he asked even though he already knew the answer.  “You know what that is going to risk, right?”

It was Titan’s turn to sound a bit insulted.  “No, I forgot about having chunks of my arm ripped out.  I forgot how much it hurt being lobbed onto a car’s windshield.  Of course I know how dangerous Eldritch is. That’s why we need to take advantage of him.”

Parasite glanced at Infinite and then at me, “Why not one of them?”

“I’m too slow.  As big as I am, I’m spread out to spy and listen in on everything.  If I get all of myself bunched up, it’s still not a particularly fast moving organism.  If I condense myself down to move, I risk being killed because I’m localized. Eldritch is more mobile and more regenerative.  Plus I’ll do a better job ensuring no one can sneak aboard our ship during the chaos.” 

Infinite bristled as attention was turned her way, “I’m too unstable.  If I go all out, I’ll kill everyone.” 

Titan grimaced, noting the brusque tone of voice.  She got irritable when she started using more than three powers: scanning Parasite should have only required two.  Odds are that she was still giving herself heightened senses to play lookout. He didn’t say anything about it though.  

“What happens if he isn’t enough?” Parasite asked.  

“If he can’t help control the militia that Zellig has whipped up, we get Mizu down to the beach to flood the place with the whole damn ocean.  We juice him up and let him wash away those who insist on fighting.” Titan offered a soft smile, “Parasite, I know that things have been harrowing for you while you’ve been up there, and I know that everything is on edge right now, but please have a little faith in me.  Have a little faith in everyone else too! We’re going to make it through this, I promise.” 

I quit paying so much attention to the rest of the talk he insisted on having to assuage Parasite’s paranoia and instead looked around the ship again as people started to wake up.  Most people were relaying the fact that Parasite had come back, and several people were overjoyed at the thought.  

And then something else spliced into my vision, like a still image that filled my eyes for a moment: a gaunt humanoid torso on top of what looked like a spider’s abdomen.  They didn’t say a word but just beckoned me forward, like they were waiting for me to answer this siren call. 

My form twitched, shaking me free of that interjection.  It wasn’t the first time I had seen that little partial vision, and I wasn’t the only person who had seen it either.  About a dozen people had reported seeing that figure and talking with it. Supposedly it was the person responsible for the Adapted, but none of us had any idea of a name or even what species they were.  The only thing that seemed to be clear was they supported us and were expecting to meet with us soon enough.  

I assumed I never got the full vision since I was never entirely asleep.  Only a few chunks of my mind could take it in, instead spitting out little snippets and still frames.  Even though I heard people talking about our mysterious creator in secret around the ship, I had never bothered to ask anyone about it.  I figured that if there was something I desperately needed to know, someone would tell Titan or just tell me.  

Parasite and Titan spoke a little while longer, and then he asked to see Eldritch.  I made a point to watch him as he entered a room with his friend, the two of them overcome with emotion as they embraced one another.

“How do you think Zellig is going to take one of us?” Infinite asked now that it was just the Prime Trio.

“I don’t think he can,” Titan replied.  “Not as a point of pride or arrogance, but I don’t see how he’s going to be able to isolate any of us.  The two of you are going to stay back and I’m not going to involve myself much in the fighting if I can avoid it.  He won’t have an opportunity to corner us. Neither Zellig nor his cronies can fight us individually.”

“No,” I said, “But he’s not limited to just his cronies.  He has a ship in orbit. God knows what kind of tricks it might bring into play if he really wants to get nasty.”

“If he’s using a Crimson City to rain fire down on us, he’s going to kill us.  Our biggest advantage is that we’re wanted alive. It means they have to fight with restraint and we don’t.  As long as you two stay here, it means you aren’t going to be subject to any kind of nefarious weaponry he has tucked out of reach.”

“What about Eldritch?  If he’s eating that many people, he’s going to make himself a massive target.  Literally,” I pointed out.

“And he can recover.  There won’t be a shortage for him in terms of food supply.  If he hulks out and devours the whole Ellayan militia, I can’t imagine that he’s going to go down without a hell of a fight.  As long as he isn’t pointed at us, the Trillodan will have to expend a lot of resources to deal with him.”

“He’s been unstable,” I said.  “The last few days he’s been isolating himself and talking to the monster that lives inside his head.  Are you sure you want him to be our first countermeasure? I could start moving myself now; as soon as the fight starts, I start ensnaring the whole Ellayan militia.”

Titan shook his head, “You’re too valuable to lose, and you don’t present the same way that Eldritch does.  He’s a literal monster. He’s a thing you see and shit your pants over. No offense to you, but you are a living mass of wood.  I know how strong you are, but you don’t inspire fear the way he does. Besides, he can regrow and undo damage, your body is inherently limited.  While it’d take hours to hack you to pieces, you can be hacked to pieces.  As long as he has food, Eldritch can sustain a theoretically infinite amount of damage on our behalf.  If we’ve got someone who has no theoretical ceiling, we might as well utilize it.”

“And his deteriorating mental state?” Infinite pried.  “I mean, is Parasite going to help now that he’s Altered?”

“Eldritch should be substantially improved by the surprise appearance of his best friend.  Even though Parasite’s Altered, the two of them have known each other for ages; a familiar face will do wonders for both of them.  If anything, Zellig gave us a massive edge in the fight thanks to him returning the boy.” 

“That’s still nagging at me,” I grumbled, still keeping an eye on the two of them as they sat down and started talking.  “I’m watching Parasite and wondering when something’s going to go wrong. Zellig wouldn’t just hand him back. They don’t give anything up, so why give up a prisoner that Big Picture deemed to be of high priority for them?”

“Maybe his Alteration made him less valuable?” Infinite suggested.  “We know that Alterations are more dangerous and volatile; maybe his new power made keeping him locked up too much of a liability?” 

It wasn’t a bad idea, but it still felt wrong to me.  “Maybe, but it still feels suspect. Zellig plays to win.  Most recently we actually had a serious win against him with Bargain and Eldritch killing three of his elite.”

Titan furrowed his brow, “You’re right that the timing is…too convenient.”

“But there was nothing mechanical stashed on him,” Infinite said.  

“One of Zellig’s elite is focused on targeted biological agents,” he said, his eyes widening.  “They made customized toxins to specifically search out Adapted. There could be a designer toxin stuck on his skin that Parasite wouldn’t even know about.”

Infinite looked between us, “But, none of us are sick.  So, not us?”

“I’m immune to a common infection.  Comes along with being not human anymore,” I said with a shrug.  “Titan?” 

He gave himself a little pat down, “No.  I can get checked by Organelle, but her stuff seemed fast acting.  Zellig must realize we’d think of this; he wouldn’t send something slow acting.”

“But, if it’s made for a specific person, they must have been able to get a sample of their genetic material to customize the virus.  It’ll be a single person onboard. Forest-” 

“Already looking,” I said as I shifted myself and woke up the rest of my body.  The first place I double checked was Eldritch: perfectly fine. The construction crew were just now getting to work, everything as it should be.  Fortunately Almanac, Big Picture and the other Cognates weren’t in any danger since they had never scrapped with Zellig’s elite. “None of our key components,” I relayed to Titan as I kept searching around the ship.  

Titan was trying to approach this from a different angle, thinking out loud about who they’d be targeting.  “Eldritch is no good, he can simply grow the Neklim and heal. He’s lost organs before and walked away without issue.  They wouldn’t try to poison him if they found him valuable, even if he’s dangerous. Dragoon is dangerous but too valuable for them to thrash.  Psycho is a bit of a wildcard and a challenge to restrain due to his shifting power scheme.”

“Bargain beat the shit out of them with ease,” Infinite said softly, “And right now he’s seriously weakened.  Bargain doesn’t have a gift that would make him particularly valuable to the Trillodan either.” 

“Which makes him expendable,” Titan said, getting to his feet. 

Another vantage point gave me a good view of Bargain, who had been completely still the last few days since he’d driven himself into a coma as a cost of using so much power.  Now, however, he was squirming, like he was trying to shake free of something. 

“It’s Bargain,” I confirmed.  “I’m getting Organelle.” My focus shifted again to Organelle’s room.  I dispersed my form by Titan and Infinite, dedicating almost my entire focus to our ships medic.  “Organelle,” I snapped, “Get to Bargain, now!”

She got up and hurried towards the door, knowing that I was not one to ever raise an alarm without good reason.  In the thirty seconds it took for her to dart down the hall and into his room, he had gone from squirming to thrashing around violently.  “What the-” she whispered, “He’s supposed to be in a coma!” 

“The Trillodan left a gift for him on Parasite.  He likely didn’t even know he was transporting it,” I informed her.  “Some kind of personalized biological weapon.”

Organelle nodded and knelt beside the Altered, having to dodge an arm as he continued to seize.  “Forest, hold him still!” 

A mass of roots erupted from under the bed, constricting around his limbs and holding him down.  He was burning up, his skin already starting to collect beads of sweat as Orgalle pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s attacking his lungs,” she whispered.  “Like it’s deliberately rupturing the cells in his lungs.”

To add weight to her words, Bargain coughed up a mouthful of blood, staining her sleeve. 

“Can you fix him?”

“If he wasn’t so weak I’d say yes.  My power builds on existing biological processes and the cost of him being so powerful is that his whole body is slowed to a crawl.  I’ve already done a lot to make sure he lived through the first night since he was barely breathing.” 

Titan and Infinite ran into the room, minding their distance from Organelle to not disrupt her.  “Organelle-”

“I’m on it, Titan,” she insisted.  “I just told Forest how banged up he is.  I can’t just recycle his lungs while his metabolism is going at a third its regular speed.”  She closed her eyes, pressing her hands to his chest as he coughed up another mouthful of blood, convulsing and struggling more as he started to asphyxiate.  “Infinite,” she snapped, “I need you to snap him out of his coma. I need you to undo his cost or something so that he’s awake. If his body can start working on it’s own, it’ll do the job.” 

Infinite balked, “You want me to fuck with his nervous system?  You want me to try and mess with an Alteration that I don’t entirely understand?”

“It isn’t like you’re going to make it worse.  He’s going to be dead in a couple minutes if we don’t try!  Forest, turn him on his side so he doesn’t aspirate!” 

I pivoted my roots, hoisting him up onto one arm; sure enough a steady flow of blood began seeping out his mouth.  “Now what?” 

“Get me Spectre and get me Lightshow.  I need every bit of help I can get.”  

Nodding, I diverted attention to the rest of the ship, finding the both of them and relaying the message.  Both hurried to join us, their frantic stomping prompting a few people to follow, curious what was happening inside.  

One of which was a very angry looking Psycho.  

As soon as Spectre and Lightshow made it inside, I put up another form in front of Psycho, cutting him off.  “I’m not sure you want to see this.”

From the looks of it, Psycho was in a Schizophrenic state today, which meant that him losing his cool would mean dozens and dozens of neon-colored monsters running around our ship, trying to eat everyone in sight.  “Forest, let me see him.”

I shook my head, “Not a good idea.  You have to trust that Orgalle and everyone else is going to do their best.  You need to get the fuck outside in case you start losing control and making projections.”  He sneered, opening his mouth to make some kind of threat and I enlarged my form so I filled the entire corridor, reminding him exactly who he was talking to.  “Psycho,” I insisted, “I will let you know the second I know anything. But I’m serious, go the fuck outside. Wait there.” 

Psycho sneered but didn’t talk back, storming outside to brood.  Shifting attention, I looked inside to the sudden bustle around Bargain as people tried to frantically keep him alive.  Infinite was trying to jumpstart Bargains metabolism so his own cells could better respond to Organelle’s gift, but overriding his imposed infirmity was proving to be impossible, even for her.  Lightshow had created a duplicate of Organelle, but having another copy wasn’t making an attempt at treatment effective.  

“It’s moving past his lungs now,” Spectre said, pressing a hand to Bargain’s guts.  “This thing, it’s eating the rest of him.”  

“Organelle, can you undo it?  Can you reprogram some of his-”

“No, Titan,” she snapped.  “Bargain almost killed himself and so nothing in his body is working.  If his bone marrow was working I could overdrive his blood production and reprogram some of his red blood cells to eat this stuff.  But, I can’t!” Organelle looked at Infinite, “Unless you can literally make him a whole new set of internal organs, I can’t do anything for him. He’s going to bleed to death, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” 

“We could force him to have more clotting factor,” Spectre suggested.  

“Then we’d just be clogging up his circulatory system.  His blood is basically sludge as is. Infinite, this is beyond what I can do.” 

All eyes went to her and she focused, his eyes turning red as she pressed a hand on  his chest. A glow started to spread across Bargain as Infinite pushed more and more power into him; it wasn’t long before he started thrashing against my roots again.  This time more frantic than earlier.  

“What are you doing to him?” Organelle demanded, horrified.  

“Burning it out of him,” she said softly.  “As long as he has this stuff inside of him, anything we do is going to be undone.  We have to get rid of whatever he was dosed with, right?”

Organelle put a hand to his skin and withdrew it like she’d touched a hot stove.  “Infinite, he’s running a fever of 106! Stop! You’re going to cook his brain! He’s too fragile for this!” 

“I can’t make it worse, can I?” she asked sincerely.  “We have to try, right?”

Organelle looked like she wanted to protest, but she didn’t have a better plan of action to give Infinite.  Even though she was our de facto healer, she was at a loss and out of her element, just like the rest of us.

Spectre knelt by her teammate and gently stroked his cheek.  “Come on, big guy, fight back. Please. You can do this.” All of a sudden, Bargain stopped struggling and went limp, his neck going slack and pulling away from Spectre’s touch.  “No. No. No,” she whimpered, “Bargain, please! Please don’t leave us.”

I searched for a pulse, for any kind of breathing, for any kind of sign he was alive, all to no avail.  “I’m sorry, Spectre,” I said softly, “I can’t feel anything.”

She nodded, “I know.  I felt his heart stop too.”  

“Fuck,” Titan hissed.  “Fuck. He traded Parasite for Bargain.  He needed some way to get his tailored virus close enough.  We let it walk through the fucking front door.” He turned and slammed his hand against the metal wall with a resounding boom.  “Fuck!”

Organelle ran her hands through her hair.  “I-I just couldn’t do anything. I needed his body to work and-”

“I know,” Titan said, quickly composing himself.  “You never half ass things. I know. It just… I gotta tell Psycho.”

“I’ll do it,” I said.  “I’m already beside him.”  

“Thanks.”

I nodded and dispersed that form, creating a new one beside Psycho as he looked down at the city.  He gave me a glance, hissing through his teeth when I didn’t volunteer any kind of good news. “Bargain’s dead, isn’t he?” 

“Yeah.”

Psycho drew in a long breath, like someone would take a drag off a cigarette.  He held it for a moment before letting out a sigh. “In a way, the Trillodan gave the poor guy what he’s always wanted,” he said, “I mean, I’ve had to stop the bastard from killing himself half a dozen times now.  Fatalistic son-of-a-bitch finally managed to haul off and die on me.” 

I frowned, surprised that I was finding him so lucid.  Schizophrenia was one of his harsher forms, more prone to making him unhinged or volatile; he was so composed in the face of his teammates death I wasn’t sure what to say.  

“You know the reason that I had to rescue Bargain, back on Tso’got?” he asked, turning to me.  

“No.”

“He was afraid of himself.  He was afraid of hauling off and destroying everything.  Bargain wasn’t someone who knew how to hold back. If you told him to get the job done, it got done.  But he was afraid of how many people he’d kill if he let loose. All he needed was for me to take him off the leash.  All he needed was a little direction and encouragement with his newfound power. The reality is that he was the best out of us; I’m the only reason he was ever called a monster.”  Psycho gulped down the lump in his throat. “He might have been a Lunatic, but Bargain was one of the nicest bastards you’d ever meet.”

“Organelle did everything she could.  They all did. He was too weak from his cost.”  

“Yeah,” he said, letting out another long sigh, tears starting to well up in his eyes.  “I know she did. And I know he was. We’ve never been able to counteract those costs of his.  Those were absolutes.”

“He took two with him,” I said, hoping that would offer some comfort. 

“One for him, one for Dysfunction.  Thanks to Bargain, the Lunatics might be the only group here that’s actually settled up on body count.”  Around us, a mist started creeping out and brightly colored monsters began to take form. “But you know what, I think I’m done with going even.”

“Psycho,” I cautioned as more and more monsters began to take form.

“Relax,” he insisted, the corner of his mouth twitching into a distrubed smile, “These aren’t for you or anyone else up here.  All these, they have a purpose. Besides, we don’t get time to grieve. Look,” he said, pointing down the coast.  

A rise in movement and population density that I’d missed; the frantic scenario around Bargain had distracted me from my outer roots and kept me from noticing the gathering earlier.  The Ellayans were coming out of the water and joining the Trillodan on the surface. From the looks of it, there were going to be at least a couple thousand in this militia.  

“Bargain at least chose a good day to die,” Psycho whispered, letting himself start to spiral into insanity, “I’m at my best when I’m under pressure.  Those fuckers killed my friend, so I’m gonna kill ‘em all.” He turned to me, flashing a maniacal grin as another dozen neon creatures began to coalesce into existence.  Even though I knew he wasn’t a threat to me, there was something so off putting about the self-assured head of the Lunatics and his peculiar brand of charisma.    

I dismissed that form and made two more: one by Titan, and one beside Eldritch.  

Both of them relayed the same message.  

“It’s starting.” 

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Don’t move.  Don’t open your eyes.  Don’t take a breath through your mouth.  

I had to force myself to lay there, unmoving, playing the unresponsive victim while I tried to figure out where I was.  At least two people were around me speaking in a foreign language and I couldn’t risk alerting them that I was awake. Not until I had a better idea of what was going on.    

The last thing that I remembered was being in a fight and getting a dose of Zeal’s power which made me feel like I was able to fight God himself.  I remembered fighting Zellig and actually doing pretty well against him for a while. And then…lightning. Tons of it. After that, I vaguely remember seeing Eldritch blasted apart and then nothing else.  

I must have been knocked out and taken captive.  That meant I was probably aboard the Crimson City, hovering in orbit around Vuuldar.  

I pushed down the urge to wince as an acute pressure shoved into my side; I dared to ever so slightly open my eyelids and look at what was happening; two Trillodan were hovering over me, one cutting into my side and digging around, as if fishing for something in my body.  I didn’t know their language, but frustration had the same inflection regardless of what tongue you spoke. As fingers and medical instruments dug around my insides, I felt something else squirm away.  

They were digging for my passenger, and it was wriggling away every time leading to the worst feeling game of hide and seek ever.  

I felt a little shift in my brain, numbing the pain and keeping my heart rate steady, my little internal companion doing its level best to keep the Trillodan unawares that I was awake.  Daring to crack my eyelids a second time, I tried my best to use my peripheral vision and check for restraints; nothing around my wrists and hopefully nothing around my feet either.  

From the tone of the two people hovering above me, one was clearly a lackey while the disgruntled one was clearly leading the floundering endeavor to secure my passenger.  

Glancing to my left, I saw machines reading out what appeared to be my vitals.  There were no needles in my arm for anesthetic. But, these were the Trillodan after all; odds were they had some device that had been keeping me comatose.  They did have something that put Adamant down immediately, maybe they had used the same sort of thing on me.  

Either way, I was free of it now.  But what the hell was I going to do on an alien ship?  There could be other Adapted onboard, but it was called a Crimson City; if that was at all indicative of the size, they could be impossible to find.  The longer I stayed onboard, the longer I was going to risk being captured and more properly secured. While the Trillodan were arrogant and stupid to leave me unrestrained, they weren’t going to repeat a mistake twice.  

I had one shot at making this count. 

The two scientists rolled me onto my side, cutting down my oblique and tried to use some tool to paralyze my passenger.  I risked a glance and made sure neither of them were looking at my face as I clenched my teeth. I was worried that my response was going to trigger an alarm, but my passenger continued to keep my pulse steady to avoid detection.  

Another frustrated exchange passed between them and I heard something that sounded familiar.  

It sounded like the lackey was apologizing.  What stood out was the name Vaneel. We had heard about him from the Trillodan on Tso’got and Titan had mentioned him as a point of frustration before.  Vaneel was the Trillodan head scientist, the one who was responsible for studying us and figuring out what made us tick.  

Which meant he would be an incredibly valuable hostage.  At least, he would be if that was in fact Vaneel. If they were just two people who worked under him, I was going to lose my window of opportunity grabbing someone who was expendable.  Still, I was bound to slip up and be noticed eventually; this was the best chance I was likely to get.    

The two of them laid me on my back again, discussing their next plan of attack to better carve my passenger out of me.  I kept my breathing slow, steady, not daring to let them know that I was getting myself ready. As I felt a pair of hands press against my abdomen, I opened my eyes and sat up in a blur.  Before the lackey had even registered that I was up, I had two hands around his throat. A strangled scream was cut off as I snapped his neck.  

Vaneel tried to pull away, but I grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, my passenger allowing me to easily overpower the terrified and perplexed scientist.  I yanked him back and pressed a hand to his throat, not squeezing hard enough to do any real damage yet.  

“Don’t scream,” I commanded, “Or I’ll break your neck as easily as I did his.”

The purple-skinned Trillodan nodded slowly, cautiously, avoiding any sudden movement.  

“Am I in the ship above Vuuldar?” I demanded.  

“You are,” he said in perfect Common.  

“You’re Zellig’s head scientist, Vaneel, correct?”

“I am.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that I had actually managed to snag a valuable hostage.  While it did not get me out of here, it at least gave me leverage.  

While I was trying to think through my next steps for escape, Vaneel was trying to understand exactly what had allowed my flight to start.  “That thing, under your skin, do you know what it is?”

“No.  No one does,” I said.  

He frowned, hoping for an easy break in his pursuit.  “My initial hypothesis is wrong it seems,” Vaneel said, thinking aloud, far more interested in this discovery and its implications than his own immediate peril.  “I assume it was some kind of mass of aberrant cells that responded to nervous input. When it continued acting despite your nervous system being paralyzed, I assumed it was a simple organism that operated in benefit to the host.  But this,” he said with an off putting smile, “This thing inside you is intelligent. It hid part of itself and destroyed the neural suppressant. It kept your heart steady despite the pain. Fascinating.”  

“Fascinating as it might be,” I muttered, “Do remember that it’s what gives me the ability to tear your head off.”

Vaneel glanced down at my hands, clearly wary.  He would have read up on me and what kind of feats I had performed.  He’d know I wasn’t bluffing. “What are you hoping for, Parasite? Where are you going to go?  It will only be a matter of time before someone comes to check on me.” 

Looking over at the tools they had been using to cut me open, I grabbed what looked most like a scalpel.  I grabbed it and pressed it to his neck, forcing him to lean away. “Tell me how to get off the ship.”

“Do you think-“

I let go of his wrist and instead cupped the side of his head with my left hand, pressing a thumb to his eye socket.  “I’m sure you can make more of these, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want to have me rip them out.” I let my trademark grin creep across my face, “Think I won’t?  What do I have to lose, Vaneel? The way I see it, if I kill you, I give Titan and the others extra time before we become expendable. The second you understand us and how to replicate our powers, we’re useless to you.  So,” I let my voice drop to a whisper for emphasis, “I think it’s in your best interest to give me what I want. Don’t you?” 

His silence was all the answer I needed.

“You’re not one of Zellig’s fanatics.  You haven’t been spouting drivel about a willingness to sacrifice yourself, so I get the impression you want to live. Well, so do I.  And I want off this fucking ship. You’re going to help me.”

Vaneel sneered, “I may not be a fanatic, but I’m not a traitor either.”  

I pressed my thumb flush against his eye, “No.  But pretty soon, you’re going to be in a lot of pain.  And if you start screaming, I’m going to have to shut you up.  You might be a hell of a lot smarter than I am, but I’m built to fight.  Are you?” I let that reality simmer for a moment. “Now, let’s try again.  How do we get off this ship?” 

“There are pods that could take you down to the surface.  Though I doubt you know how to fly them.”

“I probably don’t.  Good thing you do though.”  I jabbed the sharp instrument against his neck, shutting the Trillodan scientist up.  “You value your life. I’m sure Zellig will understand your actions.”

It seemed even his own desire for self-preservation could only tolerate so much insult to his pride.  “How dare you!”

I grabbed his lower mandible and squeezed hard enough to stress the bone.  “Your kind has medicine that can fix an awful lot of damage. All it’d take me is a second and I make it so you can never be put back together.  You say one more fucking thing out of line to me and I make sure they never find all your pieces.”  

His rage and rationality met somewhere in the middle as he let out a frustrated, “Understood.”

“Good.  Where are my clothes?” 

“Discarded.  You weren’t going to be needing them.”

“Fair enough.  I’m going to borrow your assistants,” I said.  “Take off his pants and pass them here. Don’t do anything stupid,” I insisted.

Vaneel did as instructed, stripping his deceased assistant’s pants and passing them to me.  I could tell he debated trying to bolt for one moment where I was quickly slipping them on, but he thought better of it.  It was probably ten meters to the door and he knew that I could cover that whole distance in two quick steps.  

“A shuttle.  Where am I going to find one?”

“In the shuttle bay, where else?” he said as if that was the dumbest question possible.  

“Pretend I’ve never been onboard a fucking Crimson City,” I growled, “How do I get there?” 

“It’s at the base of the vessel.  There is an elevator that can take us down there.”

I grabbed him by the collar and pushed him forward, ensuring he could feel the blade in my hands.  “Lead the way.”

Vaneel complied, taking us out of the sterile lab we’d been stashed in.  I did my best not to gawk at the cavernous ship. Outside was a hallway cold metal that overlooked a massive drop.  Across the pit was a mirror set of walkways and there were easily ten floors above and below us. At scheduled intervals, there were bridges placed between either side of the abyss with seemingly very little movement going on.  I spotted a few figures running around, but all of them clearly had a purpose and a place to be. Vaneel squirmed, clearly debating yelling but kept quiet for now.   

“Holy shit,” I muttered, daring a glance over the edge.  The only thing separating us from the drop was a guard rail that came up to my ribs.  All it would take was one good push and someone would tumble into that abyss.  

Vaneel continued to walk, keeping quiet.  We went by several rooms that seemed to all be dedicated to some kind of research, leading me to guess that function was separated by floor.  If that was the case, I wondered how many other Adapted had been procured for study. “Where are the others?” I demanded, constantly glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was behind us.  Despite its immense size, the ship was strangely vacant.  

“Adapted storage is upstairs.”

I winced as he referred to us like objects.  “Is it guarded?” 

My hostage bit his tongue but finally fessed up.  “No, but it’s monitored well. If you show up there, you’ll be recorded and it will sound the alarm.  Everyone on board will know that an Adapted is loose.” 

Truth be told, the second I killed Vaneel I was likely to meet my own demise.  No matter how clever or strong I was, the Trillodan had the advantage here. Since I wasn’t fond of the idea of trading my life for Vaneel’s, the next best thing I could do would be to deny the Trillodan their research samples.  “Take me to them,” I said, changing plans. 

“Zellig will come for you,” he warned.  

“He’s still on board?”

“Yes.  And so are several of his legion.  If you sound the alarm, they will all converge.  You won’t stand a chance.” 

“Nonsense,” I said with a smug grin as we kept walking.  “I have you. No one would dare put you at risk. Not if you’re half as valuable as people have made you sound.  It’s part of why you aren’t volunteering to die,” I added, twisting the proverbial knife, “If you die, there is no replacement.  The Trillodan need you alive.” 

He bared his teeth but I ignored him.

“Why aren’t there more people here?”

“Many have gone down to set up the war front with the Ellayan people.  Infantry and lower officers are readying to march against the Adapted.”  Vaneel dared to turn his head and give me a smug grin, “If you wait a day, you’ll be able to see all of your friends again.”

I stifled the urge to break his neck.  

We continued on in silence, finally reaching the promised elevator.  Part of me expected there to be a small group of soldiers waiting on the other side of the rounded metal doors, but we were still alone and undetected for now.  I shoved him in and looked at a keypad, the input using a completely unfamiliar language. “Take me to them,” I said. 

Vaneel tapped a few keys and we began ascending.  Every now and then he gave me a cautious look, waiting for me to do something brash.  For now I was still in control and preferred keeping things quiet. He was expecting me to be searching for a fight or some kind of revenge, but I wasn’t going to be that shortsighted.  

If Vaneel wasn’t lying and the Trillodan were pushing the Ellayans to fight us it was going to be a bloodbath. Even if I couldn’t get down to the surface with all the other Adapted prisoners, I could help neutralize the threat of this ship looming in the atmosphere.  If I could get a dozen Adapted free and we could wreak havoc, it might disrupt some of Zellig’s plans.    

Still, my heart was hammering in my chest.  All it took was one person to notice for this to go sideways.   

The elevator came to a stop and I grabbed Vaneel by the collar again, marching us out as I kept the blade pressed against his spine.  “Where to?”

He pointed to our right and led the way, taking me by several empty storage rooms that each had a cluster of pods with amber-colored glass and tubes sticking out.  Each of them had a series of displays nearby, all of them zeroed out and waiting for meaningful input.  

“Those are what you’re keeping us in, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Vaneel said.  

“Why are you doing this to us?” I whispered, feeling a surge of anger.  “We have yet to ever attack you.”

“But you will,” he replied, confident.  “Everyone who has any kind of power attacks us.  Everyone wants to get rid of us.”

“Can you blame them?” 

“Yes.”

I knew that he was a loyal Trillodan, but it was so strange to hear someone so analytical and logical be so…misguided.  “How can you possibly blame people for standing up to you? You turn planets into wastelands. You exterminate billions of people regularly.  Trillodan are the greatest group of psychopaths in the fucking cosmos and you still blame us for being rebellious?” 

Vaneel bristled, turning his head to glare back at me, “We are not psychopaths.  We are not senseless murderers. We do not kill for sport. We maintain order on a scale that you fleas can’t begin to understand.”

“Order?” I said, confounded, “In what fucking universe do you bring order?  Have you seen what’s left behind when you scour a planet?”

He scoffed.  “You are too young and too near-sighted to understand what we do for everyone.  You have no idea what things would be like without us.”

“You’re right, I don’t.  I didn’t get to grow up on my own fucking planet because of you,” I snarled, again reminding myself that he was way more valuable alive than dead for now.

After the fifth room of empty tubes, I noticed a few had occupants.  One of them caught my eye immediately. Taller with dark skin and a sturdy frame, a familiar face I hadn’t been blessed with seeing in weeks.  “Geyser,” I whispered, a rush of pity and sorrow washing over me as I looked at my sedated teammate. Even though it had been less than a month since he’d been taken, I felt like it had been an eternity since I had seen him.  My heart went out to Menagerie as I looked at her boyfriend floating there, made inert by the scientist beside me. “This one,” I said, steering Vaneel toward what looked like a keypad on the door, “Open it.” 

The Trillodan scientist begrudgingly pressed a few buttons and the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss.  

Looking beyond Geyser, I realized I knew a couple of the people that were in this room.  Kudzu from Imperium, and Dysfunction from Lunatics. “How many of us do you have in cages?” 

“Forty-six so far,” he said.  

I shoved him into the room and followed, pointing to the amber prisons.  “Free them, now.”

Vaneel turned around, finally daring to be defiant.  “No.”

My lip curled into a sneer.  Just like I had been making a gamble that he’d commit to self-preservation, Vaneel had been gambling too.  He’d waited to stick up for himself until we were inside a part of the ship that was well monitored. While he was risking my wrath, he’d put a clock on it.  Someone was going to notice us before long.  

“Do it.  Now,” I demanded.

“And I said no. I’m no traitor.”

His eyes widened as I grabbed his collar, turning and throwing him against the wall with ease.  He groaned and fell to the ground in a heap, nursing his dislocated shoulder. “It wasn’t a request,” I reminded him as I grabbed around his throat and hauled him up to his feet.  “You might be infinitely smarter than I am. You might have unlocked the goddamn mysteries of the universe. But you, you personally, are not suited to endure pain.”

I slammed my head forward into his, cracking the bone beneath his slick skin.  Vaneel cried out and fell again, blood streaming from the slits he had for nostrils. 

“Open the-“

“No!” he interrupted, doing his level best to be courageous.  

“You might make monsters,” I growled, leaning down to jab the edge of the blade under his collarbone, “But you aren’t one of them.”  I wiggled the harsh metal around, holding his mouth closed while I did to stifle his screaming. “Last chance, Vaneel. Open the cages or I use your head to try and break them out.”

He shuddered as I pulled the metal out from under his skin. “No.” 

I bared my teeth in agitation but took some solace in the situation; even if I couldn’t free anyone else, I would at least be able to rob the Trillodan of one of their greatest minds and slow down the research into what made us so unique.  I would have bought Titan and everyone else precious time where we weren’t simply expendable.

Even if self-sacrifice wasn’t at the top of my list, it wasn’t going to be a bad way to go.  

“Suit yourself,” I said, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him towards the cages.  He did his best to struggle even though it was pointless. Even without my Adaptation, I was stronger than Vaneel.  I grabbed around the back of his neck, shoving him into the tube.  

As expected, Vaneel put his good arm out to stop me outright crushing his head against whatever reinforced glass he’d used to contain us.  His arm absorbed some of my force, but his head still smacked against the glass with a dull thud.  I did it again, this time meeting less resistance and the Trillodan scientist sagged, losing consciousness thanks to repeated trauma.  I managed to smack his face a third time, this one audibly cracking his skull.  

“Enough!” a voice bellowed as thunderous footsteps approached.  

I spun around, dragging the limp form of Vaneel with me, my hands clasping around his throat and drawing him up as a shield.  Zellig filled in the doorway, filling with his gargantuan, grey frame. “Don’t,” I warned, “You know how easy it’d be to rip his head off.”  

“Poor choice putting yourself in a corner,” Zellig said with a click of his tongue.  “You’ve made a worse choice grabbing him as a hostage.”

I glared back and the Trillodan commander, knowing that I was holding onto someone far too valuable for him to do anything brash.  “I’m pretty sure I grabbed the perfect hostage.”  

“The same reason he’s a poor choice,” Zellig said in a growl, his unusually upbeat demeanor gone now, “I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done.  Whether Vaneel lives or dies, Parasite, you are already dead. Am I clear?”

“We’ll see,” I challenged, leaning Vaneel’s head one way, illustrating how easy it would be for me to do irreparable damage.  “But I know he’s way more valuable than I am. So for now, Zellig, you’re going to do as you’re told. I know you want me dead, but you and I both know Vaneel isn’t replaceable.”

Zellig actually cracked a smile, showcasing this razor sharp teeth of his.  “You’re smarter than you let on.”

“I find it best to be underestimated.  It makes it all the better when I win.”

“You still aren’t getting out of this alive,” he assured.

“We’ll see,” I repeated with a smirk.  “Now, get out of the doorway.”  

He didn’t move.  “For someone so clever, you don’t just think I’m going to kowtow to you, do you?  You’re an eighteen year old boy; martyrdom and altruism are hardly words in your vocabulary.  You and I both know that the second you kill Vaneel, you’re done for.”

I let go of his throat with one hand and jammed a pair of fingers into his eye socket, feeling the little vitreous orb pop.  Vaneel became alert enough to scream and claw at his face in the aftermath while I glared back at Zellig. For someone so unflappable, he gave me the best bit of leverage; Zellig reacted.  He’d seen men ripped apart, disintegrated, eviscerated, etc. He’d seen it so often it was normal. It wouldn’t make him blink to see someone lose an eye.  

Unless he cared about them. 

   “And now I know he’s your friend,” I said as I grabbed around Vaneel’s throat again, stifling his cries of pain.  “You don’t want him to suffer, do you?” 

In my little bit of experience with Zellig, I had seen a fairly narrow range of emotions.  I had seen delight during the fight and a cold, calculated side of him as well. I’d heard of Nick describe him as stalwart and unnaturally composed, undaunted by any kind of adversity.  Even when he’d come face to face with Infinite, no one had ever talked about him looking enraged or uncontrolled.  

His face twisted with rage, his teeth bared no longer in a jest but instead in carnivorous display.  “You will pay for every bit of-“

I interrupted by adjusting my hand and squeezing Vaneel’s mouth hard enough to destroy his teeth.  “I’m sorry, you were saying?” 

He stood there a moment, growling, clearly visualizing exactly how to rip me apart.  Zellig’s animosity was palpable, filling the air around us like a mist. “What do you want?” 

“Right now?  I want to get the fuck off this ship.  That’s what I want.” 

“Bottom floor, shuttle bay,” Zellig growled.  “If you do any more damage to him-“

“I’m already as good as dead,” I laughed, “What are you going to do to me?  Torture me?”

Zellig silently backed up from the doorframe, leaving me an avenue to pass.  As I approached, he kept backing up, being mindful to avoid any sudden movements that might make me jerk my hands and tear Vaneel’s head clean off.  On the bridges, a few infantry were gathering, many of them training a rifle on the door, waiting for a clear shot at me. Zellig raised a hand, holding their fire.  

On our walkway, a few soldiers were standing resolute with Zellig, but all of them respected his command to stand down, at least for now.  

I moved slowly, dragging the limp form along with me, constantly looking over my shoulder and ensuring that the Trillodan commander wasn’t trying to pull anything sneaky.  I knew that if he saw so much as a glimmer of an opportunity, he wouldn’t hesitate. The best thing I could do was keep him angry and on edge, hopefully clouding his mind and stymieing his ability to make a decent decision.  

Vaneel’s feet were basically just dragging as we slowly crept towards the elevator.  I needed to make it past two more rooms of empty prisons and then I would be able to head down to the shuttle bay.  

I heard the pop of a gun being discharged too late.  Something connected with my arm, managing to make a small puncture despite my passenger trying to halt anything.  Despite how quickly my passenger pushed the dart out, it had already delivered enough toxic payload to deaden my arms for a single instant.  

And Zellig knew it.  

With the sudden short in my muscle, I lost all strength in my right arm.  I couldn’t tear his head clean off with just my left arm. Even if I broke his neck, they’d probably be able to bring Vaneel back.  But, I was still strong enough to send Vaneel off the side of the walkway, and there was no way they’d be able to reanimate anyone who took that drop. 

I shoved as hard as I could; Zellig leapt over and grabbed his battered scientist as he started to topple over the lip.  The soldiers behind me opened fire, a few lasers burning my skin but not doing much more than that as my passenger took the heat for me.  With the little space I had made, I ran to the edge and hopped up, pressing my feet against the barrier to vault across the gap. I descended three floors in the process, but managed to avoid splattering myself against the dark metal the ship was constructed out of.  As I threaded the gap, I rolled and tried to slow myself on the slick surface. I ended up colliding with a wall, but it wouldn’t do more than just bruise my shoulder.  

And then an immense form crashed through the barricade, embedding itself in the wall a few meters away from me.  

“Oh fuck,” I whispered in a panic.

Zellig extricated himself from the crater he’d created, glaring daggers at me.  A malevolent smile spread across his face as he looked down at me, now with no pesky obstruction between us.  “Going somewhere?”

Adrenaline surged through my system, helping my passenger rapidly deplete whatever some sniper had tried to dose me with.  The reality was that I couldn’t fight Zellig. Without Zeal to power me up, it wasn’t even a fight. Clemency had failed to kill this guy.  There was no way I could do enough damage to him to even slow him down.  

My only option was to run.  

I pressed off the wall to jump start my momentum, hopping up again and launching myself away from Zellig.  I felt the whiff of his hand just barely miss my ankle as I descended another three floors, this time landing a touch more gracefully.  Before I could turn around to leap again, Zellig crashed down, this time not landing right behind me. His momentum carried him through a solid wall, but he recovered immediately and stomped towards me, not giving me a chance to keep jumping down towards the bottom of the ship.  

As he advanced, I swore to myself that if I was going to die, I was at least going to out swinging.  

I dodged away from his first blow, letting our size discrepancy work to my advantage.  Since Zellig was nearly seven feet tall, it made it relatively easy to dodge under his punches.  The second was closer, his speed still surprising me. The third swing made me drop all the way to the ground, relying on my natural agility to catch me.  Twisting, I spun around to dodge Zellig’s kick and drove my feet into his guts.  

It forced him back a step, but that was all.  Hitting Zellig was like hitting a mountain of metal.  

Springing off my hands, I turned around to face him again.  I kept low to evade the first swing, but the second one was already heading my way before I could correct my positioning.  My head snapped to the side as I sailed, hitting the metal floor and slamming into the barricade. Before I could find my feet, Zellig had closed the gap and grabbed my throat, turning and throwing me through one of the massive panes of glass that led to what seemed to be an armory.  

Fighting through the pain, I rolled to my feet and grabbed one of the laser rifles off the well kept shelves; Zellig slapped it out of my hands before I could take a shot.  Instead of trying to dodge his swings, I went on the aggressive. My passenger powered my legs and I launched myself off the wall like a human missile, driving into Zellig’s legs.  He hopped backwards, easily compensating his balance on a single leg. Snarling, I let go of the Trillodan’s calf and rolled to the side, trying to get access to his back.

A hand caught around my arm and threw me straight up into the reinforced ceiling.  Zellig had read my intent and acted a step ahead of me. Again.  

I curled into a ball, letting my shoulder take the brunt of the impact as I fell back to the floor.  Before I could get up, a massive foot connected with my ribs and shot me back out onto the walkway, again slamming into the unyielding barricade.  My shoulder popped out of its socket and stars filled my vision as my head smacked against the wall; I grit my teeth and forced the limb back into place, doing the best I could to clear my head as Zellig charged me again.  

Pushing off the wall, I rolled under his outstretched arm; my eyes went wide as Zellig’s elbow yanked itself out of socket so he could reach backwards to grab my hair.  “Never fun to do this,” he confessed, “But you’re a slippery little bastard.” His elbow snapped back into place as he lifted me off the ground.  

Crying out, I tried to peel his hand off, but instead I was dragged around, thrown back into the small armory and onto the bed of broken glass.  Before I could find my feet, an immovable hand gripped around my throat and hauled me up, pressing me against the wall. My passenger pressed itself around my throat, protecting my windpipe but Zellig’s iron grip was still cutting off circulation to my brain.  I grasped his hand, but without the power of my Adaptation helping me I would never make him budge.    

“You know, I respect you, Parasite.  You have such a knack for violence, such an affinity for combat and a mastery that so few have, especially for one so young.  I’ve watched some of your fights from back on Tso’got. Always the one with something to prove, and you always delivered. No matter what, you picked yourself up, you kept fighting.”  

I gurgled and continued thrashing, trying to use my whole body to leverage his hand off my throat to no avail.  

“When you fought me, I was impressed.  Even with Zeal corrupting your mind, your technique was exquisite.  You punches were crisp. You always kept yourself defended. Your breathing was controlled.  All despite Zeal’s insanity. Don’t think that your prowess wasn’t noted.”  

I tried to attack his elbow by digging my heel into the divot, trying to get his arm to fold so I could get myself off the wall.  No matter how hard I struck, Zellig didn’t even seem to register that I was doing anything.  

“Even now,” he said with a sincere admiration, “You continue to fight.  You don’t lay down and give in. You have found yourself presented with an unbeatable opponent and you refuse to yield.  That on its own is commendable. You are even managing to try and formulate a plan to work your way back into this fight,” he said, nodding to my foot vainly digging into his elbow.  “You are a fighter, through and through. Know that you have my undying respect for that.”  

His grip tightened and the world started to lose color as even my pitiful gurgling was silenced.  

“But you hurt my friend.  You ambushed him, took him hostage, and maimed him.  You dared to threaten the advancement for my empire and for all those under our gaze.  That, Parasite, is not something I can excuse. You were a valuable specimen, and one that we had aimed to keep alive to study.  But, we will carve that ‘passenger’ of yours from your cold corpse. Even in death, you will still be of great use for the Trillodan Empire.” 

Zellig’s hand ratcheted down like a vice, crushing my throat despite my Passenger trying to repel him.  No matter how strong or durable I was, I couldn’t compete with the pinnacle of Trillodan engineering and biological manipulation.  

“It’s almost fitting,” Zellig said as my vision began to narrow,  “I saw your fight with Imperium. I saw Kudzu nearly smother you in a mass of tree roots.  You were only saved by your friend Eldritch pulling you free at the last second. How fitting that you’ll be going out the same way.  Choked for air, helpless to save yourself.”  

For a moment, I looked in Zellig’s eyes, taking my focus off his arm and my pitiful attempts to free myself.  I knew that look, that specific brand of glare that Zellig had in his eyes.  

I’d fought enough killers to know that he wasn’t going to stop until I quit kicking.  It didn’t matter that I was a valuable specimen, it didn’t matter that my passenger might die with me.  There was no one here to stop him. No Trillodan here to argue that I was worth keeping alive for study.  No Adapted here to draw his attention and threaten him.  

He was right: this time there was no Eldritch to save me.  There was no monster to break me free.  

I need to be my own monster.

Strength flooded through my body, and Zellig’s elbow folded, letting me slide off the wall and rip myself free from his previously unbreakable grip.  I hit the ground and hopped back to my feet, caught off guard by how easy it felt, like I weighed a fraction of what I had previously.  

And then I saw my hands.  

Instead of my tanned skin, there was dark red tissue with pronounced black veins running along the surface.  Where there had been skin, it had been replaced with tightly knit muscle tissue.  

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Zellig said, his cold rage replaced by surprise.  “You really are a fighter to the end.”

“What-” I panted, looking at my hand in horror, “What the fuck!  What the fuck is this?!” I glanced at the sheet of glass I hadn’t been thrown through to get a look at my reflection, mortified by what looked back at me.  My whole body was a grotesque and dark crimson color, a network of inky-black veins and arteries running over my ‘skin.’  

When Dragoon and I had tried to figure out exactly what my passenger was, we’d tried digging into my skin, only to see that lump of tissue fuse with my muscle.  I wasn’t sure how I knew, but I was finally getting a look at what my passenger looked like. Under enough threat, it snapped, taking over my anatomy.

Just like that, I was Altered.  

My distraction was costly as Zellig wasn’t nearly as put off by my transformation.  A massive, grey fist collided with my cheek and sent me flying back onto the floor. While earlier that hit would have knocked me cold, now it just dazed me.  I picked myself up and tried to mount a defense against Zellig’s continued onslaught. I parried his first blow and ducked under his second punch, caught off guard by the kick I had exposed myself to.  

Again a step ahead of me.  Again I was the one being knocked on my ass.  

I rolled and planted my feet, like a runner on the starting blocks.  Getting as much traction as I could on the slick floor, I shot myself forward, aiming for the Trillodan’s legs.  

Zellig jumped, floating over my gasp as he twisted in the air.  He came back down, landing on the small of my back, driving an elbow into my spine.  Even though his weight snapped a disc out of place, my new body immediately popped it back into socket, refusing to stay broken.  It was the same kind of healing that my old gift had offered, but now greatly empowered.  

But Zellig hadn’t been trying to paralyze me, he’d just been trying to get a hold of me.  Struggle as I might, my newfound strength still wasn’t up to snuff when compared to Zellig.  He’d torn Nick out of the suit. He’d fought Shock, Awe, and Goliath all at the same time and had no real trouble beating them all senseless.  Even though my whole body had the strength that my passenger granted, the Trillodan juggernaut was on another level. He had to work for it, but he eventually got a hold of my arms and pulled them down to my sides, smothering me in a bear hug.  

Zellig dragged me out of the armory, despite my struggling.  I screamed and lashed out as he lugged me to the ledge, his ears deaf to my protests.  And then, he tossed me off, sending me plummeting into the abyss.  

I flailed, as if something would magically appear to stop my fall.  As I fell, the whole world seemed to slow around me, my body readying for its imminent demise.  After the seventh floor had passed by, I took a breath and twisted, trying to put my legs under me as I braced for impact.  

My legs slammed into the ground a few seconds later and all the bones in my legs sheared into several pieces.  The impact sent a shockwave up through the rest of me and made my eyes swim as I fell forward. I managed to turn my head before I face planted, fortunately avoiding crushing my nose.  A small mouthful of vomit mixed with blood escaped my lips as my legs recomposed themselves violently.  

I wasn’t dead, but I felt like I should be.  

This new well of strength in me was running dry.  I looked at my outstretched arm and its aggressive coloring, wishing for my body to return to normal.  I didn’t want to look like this, like some kind of monstrosity. I wanted to be back in my own skin again.  Responding to my mental impulse, my passenger receded. A literal ripple of flesh flowed out from my core as the new tissue folded under, my skin being put back into place.  I pulled myself to all fours and watched my skin finish reverting to normal. Fighting to my feet, I searched for that usual bit of strength I could rely on from my passenger, that extra little push to fight through.  

It was gone.  And it was gone for good.  Just like Lightshow, something had broken inside me.  

Zellig landed a few meters away from me with a thunderous slam on impact.  I stumbled backwards, falling onto my ass as the Trillodan commander stalked forward, looking down at me with a smile.  

“That was a thirty-five meter fall onto metal.  And look at you. Already healed.”  

He crept closer and I didn’t bother running.  That well of strength was expended from the abuse I had endured and from the frantic healing my body had subjected me to.  

“You’re done fighting?” Zellig asked, legitimately curious why I wasn’t doing anything.  

I nodded, “Everyone has limits.  I’ve found mine.” 

Zellig nodded, clearly understanding. “A pity, Parasite.  But, don’t worry, I have a new plan for you.” He grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet.

I was leery to ask about what the hell the commander of the Trillodan offensive had planned.  Curiosity eventually got the better of me. “What do you mean? What happened to killing me?”

“Things change.  Now, I need a message delivered to Titan.  And you, Parasite,” he said with a viscous smile as he pressed a finger to my chest, “You are going to deliver it for me.”  

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

There were six of them.  Six of Zellig’s elite crew, and at least one of them was one of Zellig’s right hand men.  To add insult to injury, Kalr was here as well. I could vividly remember the beating we endured at her hands, and Mutant’s death was still fresh in my mind.  

Eldritch raged against my control, demanding to be free, to run away from this disaster.  

We need more food.  We need more size to survive this.  We can’t die here.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, I struggled to push the monster back down, to keep control of our hulking form as Eldritch entered an almost primal panic.  These were apex predators and we had blindly walked into their lair. Even though Eldritch had pulled information from my brain, it was still a Neklim hive mind and all too familiar with this kind of killing floor.  Despite Eldritch natural instinct driving it to be a predator, it instinctually knew the tables had been turned on us.  

As well as I could manage, I assured Eldritch that we were going to survive this; we weren’t alone and the people with us were not prey.  While Siege was a phenomenal asset thanks to his ability to conjure Trillodan technology, Shockwave and Beleth were something else entirely.  In the time that I had my internal struggle with Eldritch, the two of them were already concocting a battle plan.  

“Siege,” Beleth asked, “What do they do?” 

“Bitch in yellow is in a special bomb suit, so she’s munitions.  Guy in blue over here manipulates force fields. Big blue bitch in pumped full of drugs and stupid strong.  Guy in front of me dumps energy into metal to hit harder or make it explosive. Green glowing asshole down there has a plasma cannon; basically a bitch version of Titan.  And…” he looked at the last woman operative, “I have no idea what she does. Looks like a stock standard set of power armor for the Trillodan. No weapons I can see on her.”  

Shockwave glanced around and then to Beleth.  Both of them had spent so long fighting one another that they were perfectly aware of the others strength and shortcomings.  Beleth had complete control of the area around him, but his reach was limited. Shockwave was more vulnerable but unbound by proximity.  

“Split them,” Shockwave insisted. 

“Take that half,” Beleth said, agreeing to something that neither Ragdoll, Siege, or myself understood.  

“Eldritch,” Shockwave snapped as Beleth turned away from the three Trillodan operatives in front of us.  “The big bitch, slow her down. Siege-”

“Middle guy.  Got it.”

Ragdoll didn’t even wait for the instruction, he simply launched himself at the last of the bunch who was a middle sized figure in armor with glowing blue tubes running from a power source to the operative’s gauntlets.  Sure enough, a blue force field appeared between them, just barely stopping Ragoll from making contact with his kick.    

As interested as I was in the new Trillodan technology, I was almost mesmerized watching Beleth.  We all prepared to square off against one of the operatives each; Beleth pitted himself against Salah the demolitionist, the guy with a plasma cannon, and the unknown elite.  And, in classic Beleth fashion, he was gliding forward to meet them without concern. As he got closer, the ground began to ripple around him and walls of packed dirt and rock rose up; with a little nod, Beleth pushed the walls he created forward, making something between a barricade and maze around those three, trying to quarantine them. 

Salah, threw an explosive to blast the first wall he put in her way.  As one fell, Beleth simply made another, the ground swallowing most of the rubble.  Despite all the munitions she had at her disposal, Salah wasn’t going to be able to simply blast her way free.  Unless she could remove the ground under his feet, Beleth would always be able to create more obstructions.  

The operative with the glowing green armor and plasma cannon flicked it on and belched forth a stream of green sludge that literally melted through the terrain that Beleth was erecting.  “Shockwave, you have a runaway!” 

Right before I collided with Kalr, Shockwave threw a bolt of force and knocked her legs out from under her to give me an immediate advantage.  As she tried to get up to her feet, I engulfed her arms, letting the mass of tendrils act like a straight jacket and hinder her range of motion.  Unlike the other Trillodan present, Kalr was a brawler and needed to be able to throw a punch to do any serious damage.  

As long as I could lock her up and keep her away, everyone else would be able to take care of themselves.  

“Get off of me,” she growled, straining as I pushed her back into a building, the wood groaning as it tried to support our combined weight.  “I ripped you apart once-” 

“And we took your arm off last time,” I hissed back.  

“Good thing we can make new ones!”  Kalr pushed forward and then threw herself back, pulling us both through the strained architecture.  We tumbled and she drove a foot into my midsection, rolling back and launching me deeper into the house we had just crashed into.  

I ended up ripping away chunks of the translucent membrane around her arms, but she was free of my grasp.  My body shifted and I galloped forward, barreling forward on all fours; Kalr dodged and rolled to the side, avoiding the momentum that I had built.  I managed to stop, but she had descended upon me before I could get another head of steam.    

A heavy blow slammed into my midsection, managing to rattle my actual body beneath the layers of Neklim provoking a small disconnect with me and Eldritch.  I gained control, but not before Kalr could continue her assault. It should have been easy to pull my arms in and protect my core, but the beast was trying to pull away, to cut and run.  

She ripped us apart when we were bigger than this!  We need more meat! We can’t fight her at this size! 

Another flurry of blows slammed into our torso, driving us back a step.  We were saved by a kinetic blast hitting her in the stomach.  

“Eldritch, get your fucking head on straight,” Shockwave shouted.  “I can’t cover for you all the fucking time!” 

The operative who had the molten green sludge was trying to advance on Shockwave, every time being pushed back by the kinetic assault.  The problem was that he was helping to cover for Beleth. Salah and the other Trillodan had split apart, making a point to be at the edge of his range and force him to spread thin.  Shockwave kept firing quick blasts back at them to ensure the last one couldn’t slip away entirely. His split attention meant the blasts from his hands were having limited time to charge, greatly diminishing their destructive output.  

With the little bit of space that Shockwave had bought for me, I did my best to reconcile with Eldritch.  We weren’t losing, we had friends with us, we had others on the way. We still had time before we needed to start panicking and going berserk with a need for consumption.  

I barely managed to get the agitate Neklim under control before Kalr came charging.  This time, with a unified front, my body didn’t fight back as I moved my arms into place to absorb the blow.  A few kilograms of material were crushed, but not enough to cause alarm. My arms split and fanned out, forcing her to back pedal to avoid being snared.  

Kalr growled in frustration as I advanced, driving her away from everyone else.  For now, we were on even footing. The sludge she carried would negate any harm and she was generally strong enough to simply overwhelm or overpower any opponent she encountered.  But I was big enough to mitigate her strength.  

And I had one extra trick she didn’t.  

Mutation: adrenaline. 

A burst of strength filled my body, all four tonnes charging forward.  The change was surprising enough that she was slow to dodge my grab; a huge swath of mass re-allocated to prevent her from tearing her arm free.  

She struggled, at first completely in vain.  Even with her raw might, she couldn’t displace a four-tonne monstrosity.  Her glower faded to a smirk as she reached back, slapping the massive metal tank on her back. 

Red serum seeped through the tubes that were plugged into her skin.  Her smirk turned to a manic sneer as she planted her feet, reaching her other hand forward to seize under one of my massive limbs.  Both Eldritch and I panicked as she heaved us off the ground.  

“I hope you have another trick,” she laughed.  Kalr launched us to the side, ripping her arm free in the process.  Our bulk obliterated a small home and cost us nearly two hundred kilograms of material.  While I had calmed Eldritch down earlier, we were now recalling the abuse we had endured at Kalr’s hand when she was empowered with that steroid.  Even turned into a monster of crystal, we hadn’t been able to withstand her fury. With how she was looking at our center, she was intent on ripping me free of the Neklim mass, and I wasn’t sure how we could stop her.  

As we rose from the rubble, she crashed down on top of us, driving a hand into our shoulder, tearing a huge swath of growth free as I tried to backpedal and regain my bearing.  My other arm wrapped around a fridge and I swung it around like some kind of hammer. Kalr shielded her head with an arm, but she barely recoiled at all, despite all the force behind that blow.  

We have to run, Nick!  If we don’t, we die here! 

Before we could turn, Kalr lunged like a feral cat, tackling us through the wall and back out into the street.  Nearly a hundred kilograms of material were casualty to the road rash as we skidded to a halt with her sitting on top of us.  I swung an arm, trying to knock her off, but she was far too strong, far too juiced up to even budge. The giantess frantically ripped handfuls of growth free, literally digging for my real body.  

In desperation, I shifted the distribution in my arm and lumped my growths over her head, smothering her.  Kalr growled and withdrew one hand to keep ripping tentacles free of her mouth so she could keep breathing, but her pursuit continued.  

One of her fingers grazed my arm.  

For a moment she paused, and then both hands flew to my core; she knew she could hold a moment of being smothered.  The moment I was torn free, the Neklim would disintegrate and I would be out of the fight for good.

Her weight vanished from my chest as the air rippled around me.  Kalr went flying backwards, buried into the remains of the building we’d just escaped.  Shockwave glared my way, both hands trying to quickly accumulate a new charge as Kalr rose from the pile of debris, sludge washing over her and fixing all the injury he’d inflicted.  

“Eldritch,” he said, stern, “Trade me.  I’m a better match for her.”  

Behind him, the man with the cannon of molten green material had clearly endured some damage, with chunks of his armor cracked.  It seemed like he had valued preserving his weapon over keeping his own body intact; the only reason he was probably still standing was the fact that Shockwave had been splitting his focus between several attackers.  

Kalr tried to charge me while my back was turned, but Shockwave clapped his hands together, sending a wave of energy screaming through the air; as soon as it came into contact with the giantess, it exploded and sent her tumbling back.  Despite her landing in a mangled heap, she was back on her feet in seconds, the sludge flowing through those tubes, mending all the damage that Shockwave could dish out.

The others were faring better than I had managed, though none of them needed to try and talk sense into a panicking beast.  Tol and Siege were exchanging blows, seeming to be at a stalemate. While the Trillodan had far superior combat experience, Siege could always conjure a new weapon to compensate for any shortcoming he had.  

Ragdoll was in another peculiar stalemate with his opponent.  The operative’s suit made force fields that projected from his hands, and that was all that was keeping Ragdoll from smashing him into the ground.  The Trillodan seemed more used to standard movements and limitations that most would have on how far they could jump or throw themselves. Every time he tried to project a forcefield and use it to squish Ragdoll, the head of Flagbearers threw himself out of the way and rapidly repositioned for a new angle of attack.   

Doing my best to trust the others, I focused on the injured operative that had been left for me.  Someone with a weapon that was reminiscent of Titan’s molten mixture wasn’t ideal, but I would be able to deal with them better than I could Kalr.  

Burning what was left in my storage, I bulked back up to five tonnes of mass and felt another threshold of power reached, both mine and the monsters desperation prompting another timely alteration to our physiology.

Mutation: Thermal resistance.

The whole Neklim mass felt a surge of strength as our second mutation set in.  Even though I had rapidly constructed the extra mass and only had fifteen minutes of size, both the beast and I felt more confident as we approached our new opponent.  As we got closer, I started to lose that little burst of confidence.  

Around the operative, the air was scalding.  Even though we were now more resistant to the harshness of the temperature differential, it was agonizing.  All the tendrils on the exterior were frying and I got to feel all of them trying to cope with the oppressive heat from the Trillodan’s weapon.  

To make matters worse, Eldritch and I had felt something like this before. 

Titan burned us.  Titan cut us down.  He’s just like that.  We can’t do this!

I roared and shook the whole pavilion, undoubtedly causing more harm for all my teammates than I did any of the Trillodan.  I was so sick of trying to fight Eldritch and the abject fear that I was experiencing as a side effect. If I could just get the damned Neklim to calm down we could probably hold our own.  But instead I was grappling with PTSD from my own Adaptation.  

I charged forward, forcing my rebellious body to action.  Even if Eldritch wouldn’t work with me, I was the host. I was the owner of this whole ordeal.  We would fight.  We would not abandon our team now and leave them to die.  

The Trillodan raised the massive weapon and pulled the trigger; a jet of molten green plasma slammed into our legs and began burning away dozens of kilograms, making me stumble and fall onto my arms.  Another blast of this plasma and my right arm lost a third. Reeling, I reached out and seized a chunk of debris, courtesy of Beleth constantly manipulating the distorting the landscape around himself.  I threw the hunks of rock, forcing the operative to adjust settings on his weapon and make a sheet of plasma to disintegrate the projectiles.  

Getting back up, I burnt some stored adrenaline and did my best to rally.  Attacking him head on was suicide, celarly, but we had beaten Titan. We had used our strength to turn everything around us into a weapon.  It had worked once, and it would work again.  

Thanks to Salah constantly blasting away Beleth’s creations of rock, there was plenty of loose rubble to grab fistfuls of and launch at the alien with the glorified flamethrower.  The tank that was feeding his cannon wasn’t seeming to empty, but he wasn’t able to launch any kind of meaningful counter attack either. I kept reminding myself that stalemate was fine.  All we needed to do was hold out. I wasn’t supposed to panic and let loose. We had Clemency and Spectre in the area, they should be here soon, especially with me letting out a roar like some kind of alarm system.  Salah was constantly demolishing plenty of rock as well. They should be able to find us.  

Why aren’t they here yet, Nick?  Why hasn’t Clemency shown up? We can’t hold out forever and if we stay out too long we will die.  The fire is consuming any reliable meat that might have been nearby. The longer we fight, the less likely we are to survive. 

I ignored my other half, doing my best to keep my head in the fight and hold the even state.  But, as we saw all the fights unfolding, I was worried that things weren’t going to get better.  

Ragdoll was doing his best but still making no tangible headway on his fight with the force-field manipulator.  Even though he could kick hard enough to behead someone, he hadn’t been able to make contact. The Trillodan wasn’t doing Ragdoll any damage but Ragdoll was panting from exertion.  More than that, Ragdoll was running himself ragged and taking giant breaths of air polluted with smoke thanks to Salah’s explosions and the fires that Clemency had started earlier.   

Siege had broken a few pieces of Tol’s suit off and drawn blood, but he was gassing out quickly.  His constant adjustment to counter Tol had started to seriously take the wind out of Siege while the Trillodan lieutenant was comfortable fighting through fatigue and pain.  Even though Siege wasn’t breathing ash like Ragdoll, he didn’t have the natural strength and conjuring a literal tank earlier had done a number on him.  

Shockwave was the only one who wasn’t winded, but he was clearly getting more and more frustrated that every blow against Kalr was washed away by that sludge.  He tried to target the tank on her back, but she consistently denied him a clear shot. Even though her dose of that red serum had faded, she was still running around just as easily as when the fight had started. 

A little bit of motion caught my eye as the other woman Beleth was holding back raised her arm and threw a black orb towards us.  It touched the ground and a black gas erupted out; from the cloud, five little fingers of smoke shot out, each guided towards one of the Adapted.  The instant it made contact with the wall of Neklim I wore, I felt the effect.  

Lethargy.  Unbelievable exhaustion spread through me like fire through dry leaves.  The lattice structure of the growths started to sag, the individuals tendrils robbed of the strength to hold themselves together.  

Shockwave blasted the air away from himself, but a new wisp of smoke shot back towards him after the first failed.  Ragdoll tried to launch himself clear of the pavilion, but a force field slapped him out of the air and back down to the ground where he was subjected to the gas.  Beleth didn’t quite pull himself underground fast enough to avoid the inhalant. For a moment, the only one immune was Siege.

Tol’s suit had given him a respirator.  Even though it lingered around his head, Siege stayed on his feet.  

However, his opponent now had reinforcements.  

A force field slammed into Siege’s legs, upending him.  Before he hit the ground, Tol was pouncing, pinning one hand and pressing his prosthetic arm against Siege’s mask.  There was a metallic grinding as Tol’s robotic hand squeezed hard enough to shatter the mask and Siege’s jaw beneath.  

The head of Black Mass screamed, but his cry died down to a whimper as the gas took effect on him as well.  

“Omec,” Salah said as they began closing she and the Trillodan responsible for the blight sauntered forward, “You’ve outdone yourself with this one.  Targeted metabolic depressants?” 

“Yeah, I just needed to adjust-”

“That one isn’t done,” Tol shouted, drawing all the Trillodan’s attention to me.  

I burned what little adrenaline there was left in my system to keep my structure together and stay upright.  I turned to fight and let out another roar, trying to portray some kind of confidence…but it was all a front.  

Both Eldritch and I were alone.  

Desperation drown us both, and both of us were aligned with a specific goal: 

Survive.  

“Carve him out, Phelios,” Tol called to the operative with the plasma cannon.  “Now!” 

Eldritch and I screamed.  It wasn’t a roar like we usually let out, it wasn’t a cry of war, it was a cry of panic.  We were cornered again, the predator turned to prey. Both of us knew that this was another absolute end if we fell.  Clemency and Spectre hadn’t shown up yet, and we didn’t know if they would be able to. There could be more operatives around, there could be Zellig himself fighting them.  

We were alone and we had no options.  

As the searing green liquid began burning my left arm, I felt a wave of power and change rip through us.  We didn’t turn to crystal like we had last time. Instead, Eldritch wanted a way to fight, not just survive.  The apex predator of Tso’got was tired of being hunted, tired of being powerless. With that gas on our mind, I felt our physiology shift in an instant. 

More than a mutation, it was the same phenomenon we had felt saving Murphy.  Eldritch was Adapting again, overhauling his natural limitations and defying nature in the blink of an eye. 

Little geysers erupted on my back, releasing wisps of green gas.  Just like Omec’s it was directed, each trail chasing down an operative.  Phelios was closest and didn’t get a chance to react and get himself clear.  The little breath of fog ballooned in size, enveloping his armor; within seconds it began melting.  Pehlios screamed and dropped his weapon, trying to rip free of the demolished armor and layer of acid that had formed atop the metal.  It quickly ate through the metal and seeped through the cracks, cooking the alien underneath. He fell to the ground, screaming as he continued to cook, not long for this life.  

Tol assumed charge immediately, barking commands in a foreign tongue.  The squad of Trillodan quickly sprinted together as Salah threw something down that seemed to incinerate the air as the gas tried to fly through it.  Eldritch screamed again, fighting against the lethargy that was just barely staved off. More gas erupted and began swirling around the Trillodan, seeming to run Salah’s device to capacity.  

Omec was next to provide a counteragent as she quickly tinkered with a glass cylinder.  In a dramatic motion, she slammed it against the ground and some little yellow arthropod crawled out, visibly affecting the air around it.  With a kick, she launched it my way. As soon as it came into contact with me, it exploded in a cloud of dust and some kind of particle that made the air heavy, and pulled my trails of noxious gas down to the ground, fizzling out as the ground absorbed the acidic fumes.  

Tol burned a red disk and fired a metal needle into my shoulder; a second later half of my mass was demolished and my real body was tossed free of the mass of Neklim.  I groaned as I hit the ground, struggling to get up to my feet, my skin red and blotchy from the heat. My brain tried to adjust to being just a single person again; I was centered by Tol grabbing my shoulder and shaking me.  

“Not twice,” Tol said as he leaned down.  “You had your little upset. Do you think we’d give you a second?” 

I raised my head and endured a metal gauntlet to the mouth before I could try and be defiant.  

“Learn your place, worm.” 

At the far corner of the pavilion, a tall silhouette was cast against a backdrop of flickering flame.  Stepping forward, I recognized the white coat and black surgical mask with neon teeth painted onto it. “Bargain!  All out! Ten minutes duration!” The operatives rounded on Psycho, ready to fight. Psycho just laughed, shaking his head.  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about me. It’s him you need to be scared of.” 

On the opposite corner, the grimey and scraped up figure started convulsing, his body contorting for a moment as he seemingly put on thirty pounds of muscle in a split second.  Salah didn’t bother waiting for him to finish his transformation and threw an explosive his way; I felt a pang of anxiety on his behalf.  

My apprehension was grossly misplaced.  

Bargain sprinted out of the fire and smoke almost faster than the eye could track, immediately going for Omec.  She let out a scream of pain and surprise as he grabbed both her hands, crushing them in a squeeze. She was shoved backwards into Salah and both went flying as if Shockwave had blasted them.  

Tol powered his suit up with another one of those red discs and tried to join the fray, but Bargain ran to him, closing the gap in a blink.  Even with the speed granted by the serum, the Altered hit him a dozen times before the Trillodan lieutenant could react. Each blow cracked Tol’s armor and audibly cracked the Trillodan’s bones beneath.  

Kalr roared and swung a massive leg into Bargain, and he didn’t bother to dodge.  He let her gargantuan leg collide with his torso; instead of Bargain going flying, Kalr’s shin snapped around him.  “Pest,” he grumbled, merely inconvenienced. A palm shot out and Kalr’s chest collapsed, her body landing in a heap fifteen meters away.  

The last man tried to grab one of those white vials that acted like a quick means of teleporting away; before he could shatter the glass, Bargain zoomed over to him and smacked it out of his hand.  A force field came between them, and Bargain blitzed through it. Tubes were ripped free of the power supply as Bargain tore his arms free of his body. The operative tried to scream; Bargain silenced him by hitting him hard enough to cave in his helmet and his head.  

A blink of white light quickly flashed where Salah and Omec had been thrown to, and a quick glow behind me told me that Tol decided to abandon the fight as quickly as possible.  

I had heard that, if he wanted, Bargain could be one of the most powerful people alive.  His power was temporary strength equal to the punishment he would take once his power expired.  I had seen him pummel Shock and Awe handily but this was… something else. Five of the strongest Adapted had floundered against these operatives and he’d cut through them like a hot knife through butter.  

“Should we kill this one?” Psycho asked, lifting the unconscious form of Kalr.  “Bargain, care to do the honors?” 

Another blur of movement, and Bargain appeared behind her, readying himself to behead her.  

“Wait!” a stern voice insisted.  Up above us, Clemency dropped down and raised a hand to stop the two Lunatics.  “We can use her. How often do we get to have a prisoner? How much value is she going to pose for Zellig?”

Psycho turned to the man clad in cobalt and laughed, “Are you serious, Clemency?  These are the Trillodan. You think they’ll negotiate? You think this crazy bitch is going to cave to torture?  They are roided up fanatics with a stronger attraction to murder than me! They are all happy to die for their cause!  Besides you think Zellig is going to just let us keep her? Hell, you think she’s going to just be confined to a prison cell?  Look at this bitch! Besides,” Psycho said, glancing at me, “She’s the one who killed Mutant, isn’t she?” Despite him being in his Narcissism form, Psycho’s became surprisingly somber.  “Bargain, kill her. Eldritch, eat the corpse.” He turned back to Clemency, “I think it’s time we start to even the score, don’t you?”

Clemency clearly didn’t want to give into the wills of a madman governed by mental illness, but his lack of response was all the go-ahead that Bargain needed. 

Karl’s head hit the ground and body was launched, skidding to my feet.  “Eat up,” Bargain insisted. “Make her death at least somewhat productive.”  

I nodded and pressed a hand to her flesh, her chemically stained muscle admittedly making me nauseous as I devoured every last scrap.  Two hundred and sixteen kilograms of muscle tissue, all of it gone in a few precious seconds.  

“What happened to you guys?” 

“Some illusionist and a pair of their operatives were keeping us penned in,” Clemency mumbled, frustrated as he grabbed the nearly comatose Shockwave.  “Help me get the others!” he shouted over the crackled of the flames. “We have very little time left to get the fuck out of here.” I wanted to know more about what had happened and why they had been slow to respond, but I didn’t push it.  Clemency was right that we were in a hurry.

Psycho scooped up the other Adapted I had come with, tossing them all unceremoniously over his  shoulder with ease. I got up on my own accord, much less affected by the gas that Omec had released.  As he grabbed Beleth, he noticed the puddle of melted armor and flesh that I had turned Phelios into. “What the fuck happened to him?”  

“I, um, melted him.  Where are-”

“Waiting for us at the extraction,” Psycho said, his face actually somewhat dour.  “Pacifist took a nasty hit. Spectre is keeping her safe.” He gave another cautious glance at the pile of liquified flesh, “How the fuck did you do that?” 

Part of me considered confessing that my Neklim form had a way to Adapt on its own, but I kept my mouth shut.  The last thing I needed was to incite more fear about how dreadful and unhinged my power could get if properly enabled.  “One of the mutations I can gain is an acid splash,” I answered, “Poor guy got too close to me and took a full hit.”

The leader of the Lunatics raised an eyebrow, clearly calling bullshit on my explanation.  He didn’t press any further, ripping Beleth free from the ground since his legs were still halfway submerged.  

As soon as we had everyone, Clemency insisted we make quick time to extraction. 

I wondered why we were even bothering to hurry.  All the Ellayans had taken refuge in the water during the attack or been  killed by one of us. Their little base was in shambles, and no one was going to challenge us.  Even Zellig himself wouldn’t be brash enough to come anywhere near us with Bargain as high-powered as he was.  

The moment we arrived at the extraction, Bargain dropped to the floor unceremoniously.  His body deflated, all the power rapidly fleeing and being replaced with grotesque infirmity.  

“Careful with him,” Psycho snapped at me as I helped him to his feet, “His bones are going to be incredibly brittle.  We need to get him back to Organelle and make sure that his lungs are functional enough for him to survive the two day coma he just lapsed into.”

Inside our rendezvous house, Spectre and Pacifist were waiting, both looking worried.  Pacifist had a hand pressed to her side, blood seeping through her fingertips.  

We sat there a moment before the room began to shimmer, Distortion’s power finally kicking in and ripping us through reality back to the ship.  After a split second of nothingness, we were back among our comrades on the hillside, overlooking the city.  

There was a hustle and bustle to get the injured up to Organelle, but I excused myself and slipped away after someone was kind enough to give me a pair of pants.  Climbing onboard, I found a dusty and empty room to lock myself inside of.  

Now that no one could see me, I let all the bottled emotion and panic out as I put my head in my hands, unable to control myself.  The last time Eldritch had Adapted, we had managed to rally.  

This time, it had barely made any difference.  Our surprise burst of power had claimed one of Zellig’s elite, but that was it.  The others had quickly turned it around on me, negating my newfound biological weapon.  

I needed to be saved.  Again. I was supposed to be some kind of super-weapon in this fight against the Trillodan and I had let everyone down.  Again.  

Tonight was a victory.  Even though Bargain was going to be down for several days, if not a week, we had stalled the Ellayan militia and burned the beach head the Trillodan were trying to prepare for themselves.  We had bought valuable time for the construction crew to continue work on making our escape vessel something that could get off the damn ground. And we had done it all with no casualty.  

But the only thing I could hear was my own head repeating one thought over and over again.  

Weak.       

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Big Picture made the presumption that the Ellayans weren’t going to press the attack at least until dawn of the next day.  There was plenty of work happening in their little camp and they would all need to rehydrate since their time on the surface was limited to a few hours.  Even though the Trillodan had a similar issue with needing moisture to survive, their power armor fixed that problem for them. As prepared at the Trillodan were though, they didn’t have thousands of spare suits to loan.  

After our meeting, we split up and had a few hours to kill before it was showtime.  While others went off to get mentally prepared with their collective teams, I had prep work to do.  With no available protein to consume, I was worthless in a fight.  

First order of business for me was bugging Repository and getting a massive mound of protein sludge to devour for my gift to consume.  In case we had to hit the panic button, I needed to be able to start the process and not just rely on a convenient corpse to consume. Fortunately Repository wasn’t hard to find and more than happy to help me prepare for the coming evening.     

As the stout twenty-year old conjured pile after pile of bland tasting mush to devour, I finally  asked something that had been bugging me. “How did everyone get here? We were all scattered around a planet with limited transportation.  It took us a full night of driving to get here and we were relatively close by.”

“Clairvoyant apparently started having visions of people being captured.  Titan pulled the trigger and gave his super drug to Relay and had Powerhouse give him every gift she could.  It let him reach out and grab people to pull them to him; since we knew where most people had been sent, he could reach out and pull them from the city.  The problem is that it Overexposed him something fierce. Poor bastard won’t be moving for a week probably.”  

“How many more people is Titan going to have to drug before we get off this planet?”

Repository shrugged, “I might be next.  Simply creating stuff for the construction crew is valuable.”

“Do you ever get frustrated with him?” I asked.  

“Why would I?” 

“Because we’re in a war with the Trillodan.  Because we’re literally millions of miles from home and facing down near certain death.  Because all our plans are made up on the spot since all we have are a few Cognates feeding us theoretical information.”

Repository paused, looking me up and down.  “Yeah, but at least we’re doing something worthwhile.  What the fuck were we really doing on Tso’got? Fighting for turf?  Playing at being super heroes and super villains? At least here we’re trying to do something.”

“And we’re going to get thousands of innocent people killed.  We already displaced a whole fucking city!”  

He sighed, “Yeah, but so what?  Adapted displaced people all the time.  Think of how many people are homeless now because of you.  How many buildings were flattened and demolished because of Feast Day?  Even before you, how many people were swatted aside or displaced because of the turf wars between Imperium and Surface Dwellers?”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that we always do damage.  No matter where we go, we’re going to be a destructive group of fucking kids.  At least when we are working for Titan, that destruction has a purpose, an end goal.”  

I heard that dubious voice that gnawed at the back of my mind, eroding away my confidence.  “Do you think we can actually win?” I asked, echoing my own concern. “Do you think we stand a chance?” 

“Absolutely,” Repository replied with a confidence that caught me off guard.  

“How do-“

“Because I’m not going to give up.  Because we shouldn’t give up,” he said.  “if we lose hope, what’s the point? We all knew it was a longshot.  No one has ever taken the fight to the Trillodan and we’re the first people in recorded history who have even tried.  Of course it’s a longshot. Of course the odds are stacked against us. But, is it possible? Absolutely.”  

I ingested the last stack of protein sludge he made for me and offered a quiet word of thanks as I took off, wishing I shared his optimism.  I couldn’t get it out of my head that our only lifeline was how much more valuable we were alive as opposed to dead. The only insurance we had for survival was that our hearts beating upped the worth to the Trillodan.  

As soon as I was done with Repository, I wasn’t sure where to go since all of my teammates were either helping with construction or nose deep in a notepad.  I was saved from loneliness by a taller guy my age with slicked back hair and a form fitting black-body suit that had armored plates tucked inside. “Eldritch!” he called out to me, “Been wanting to talk to you!” 

Ragdoll.  Leader of Flagbearers.  An Enhancer who could adjust the mass and durability of his limbs.  On Tso’got, I had seen him kick a Trillodan soldiers head clean off thanks to his crazy acrobatic style of combat that no one else could quite replicate.  

“Hey, Ragdoll,” I said.  

His chipper expression fell for a moment, “Lightshow told me about Parasite.  I know I won’t miss him as much as you do, but he was a good friend.”

Ever since they had met on Tso’got, the two of them had hit it off.  While we had been on the ship to Vuuldar, the two of them trained and worked out together twice a day like a pair of psychos.  “I appreciate it, Rags. And it’s still hard to believe that he’s gone.”

He sighed, commiserating.  “Fortunately that’s not the only reason I’m here.  I was talking with the Lunatics and we’re going to have to split up.  It looks like there’s four weapons caches that Almanac and Infinite have spotted out, so to cover ground best we’re going to split up into groups.  Beleth and Shockwave are going as a unit, Psycho is going to sleep to get a new power and go with Pacifist and Bargain. I’m going to be with Siege and we want you to come with us.”  

I blinked a few times, confused.  “But-“

“I figure if we need a panic button, we might as well have you close by, right?  Besides, you and I have worked together before, and this time I’m not going to let you run away like you did back in Ciel.  You almost got yourself caught because you tried to be the hero, like a total jackass.”

I felt my ears burn with shame, but Ragdoll laughed and clapped me on the back.  “Relax man. Bygones and all.”

He didn’t explicitly mention no one else wanted to be stuck with me but he didn’t need to.  Without using my power, I was fragile. After using my power, I was a literal monster. There was no middle ground in the eyes of most people.  

“What about Clemency and Spectre?  You didn’t mention them.”

“They’ll be flying around, our early alarm system and first layer of interception.  Ideally we can blow apart three of the stashes and they’ll hit the last one as people start to panic and juice them up.  We dash like hell and bail before our two hour window and call it a night. Once we’re back at the ship, Zellig isn’t going to hunt us.  It’s too risky for him and his men to come close to us; Forest has way too much hold here for him to want to fight.”

It sounded optimistic.  If there was one thing I had learned from our time fighting against Imperium and Surface Dwellers, it was that no plan survives contact with the enemy.  Then again, I was the backup plan in case something did go wrong.  

Ragdoll gave me an almost pitying look, “You wanna come hang out with us for a little while?  I know that your group is a little scattered right now.”  

It was probably the gentlest way to remind me that half my team was dead or captured and the others were now cogs in Titan’s machine.  I might have been able to hang with the Lost Children, but Adamant was holed up with Distortion and Exchange who were catching up on sleep after our harrowing nightmare yesterday.  “Yeah, that sounds nice.”  

The rest of the Flagbearers were waiting around a tree on the side of hill, an open botton bottle of something alcoholic being passed between them.  As we sat down, Mr. Magnificent started shuffling a deck of cards and dealt both us in without missing a beat. Just like Ragdoll, all of them opened me with welcome arms.  While we sat around playing cards, I noticed they were short a member: Transport was gone.  

Everyone had lost someone.  How Ragdoll managed to brush such things off was beyond me.  Soliloquy and Mr. Magnificent seemed painfully aware of their teammates absence, but neither of them made mention.  Instead all of us were content to pretend everything was okay for a few hours and swear at each other because someone was clearly cheating, or so Soliloquy kept insisting.  Poor man couldn’t get a good hand to save his life.  

But eventually, all good things had to come to an end.  As the sun began to set, Ragdoll gave me a nudge and we withdrew, taking our leave from the rest of his team.  Before he left, Ragdoll exchanged a warrior’s handshake with Mr. Magnificent. Knowing the two of them, I knew that Mr. Magnificent was donating his power to Ragdoll, granting him some kind of heightened physical attribute.  

As we all met around the side of the ship, everyone was void of humor.  It looked like Psycho had swapped back into his Narcissism form given the fact he was a foot taller and riddled with muscle he hadn’t had three hours ago.  Clemency was decked out in his usual armor, all of the Lunatics were wearing the white coats and monstrous masks that we had originally seen them in. Shockwave wore his crimson suit with the golden mask and Beleth was back in his brown trench coat.  

Outside of the Prime Trio, this was arguably the strongest group of people here.  The only person I wished to have at our back was Lightshow, but she had joined the construction team since she could make a copy of Multi-task or Mizu and effectively double their workforce.    

“You won’t get much time,” Titan said as he joined us, flanked by Infinite.  He looked exhausted, like the poor bastard hadn’t slept in a week. “Two hours.  Distortion will be pulling you back from the same place she drops you, so don’t forget where you need to go.  Each of you has an earpiece, courtesy of Toolkit. If you need early extraction, get back and we’ll pull you out.  If you need help, Clemency and Spectre will be the quickest response team. If we need to call it a panic,” Titan said as all eyes turned to me, “Eldritch, don’t hold back.  You bring about hell while everyone else runs. Infinite will come to extract you herself if we need to.”

Our means of conveyance, Distortion, stumbled forward, using a crutch to prop herself upright since her left leg was still defunct.  Beside her, the sprite Powerhouse place a hand on Distortion’s shoulder, bestowing an extra power to the teleporter from Lost Children.  

“Don’t pull the panic alarm early,” Clemency stressed, “that goes for everyone.  If we do that, we risk advancing our time tables. We’re the best at this shit, so trust one another to handle things.”  

Shockwave took one last drag on a cigarette and stamped out the butt.  “So, let’s get to work.” 

Everyone huddled together as Distortion raised a hand and the world melted away.  After that second of nothingness, we all found ourselves in what looked like a cramped townhouse that had clearly been abandoned.  There were cheap dolls on the ground around the room, dishes left on the table, and enough of a mess that it was clear people had left in a hurry. 

As soon as we materialized, everyone ducked down.  The whole group slowly advanced to the windows to take a look out and see exactly what we were up against.  

Despite the fact that humans had all but evacuated, the city was strangely buzzing with activity.  The house’s windows looked into a small pavilion where a Trillodan dropship had been parked. Patrols of the men in power armor were circling around the block, keeping watch out for our attempts to sneak in.  Ellayans were everywhere as well. Even though they were primarily aquatic and could only escape the sea for a few hours at a time, I could see dozens moving around in the lamplight, almost like they were doing military drills.  

   “They aren’t  ready for a war on ground,” Siege said.  “They’re used to fighting underwater. Trillodan are helping get them ready to attack us. 

He was right.  It wasn’t just Trillodan marching around to watch for us, they were helping the Ellayans learn to fight and move around on the surface like the rest of us.  They were drilling them through the night, likely deliberately working to condition them to be more resilient without the water from the ocean.  

 “Alright, let’s stick to the plan,” Clemency said, taking charge.  “Spectre will copy my power and we’ll be sticking in the sky, listening in if you need help.  If you get in trouble, click once to turn on your earpiece and call for us, we’ll find you as fast as we can.  Once you’re in position to blow apart a cache, let us know. If you have trouble finding it, Spectre or I can guide you.  According to Infinite, they should look like black steel buildings, clearly designed to take a beating. Lunatics, you all go to the northern stockpile.  Ragdoll, Siege, Eldritch, you all have the southern cache overlooking the coast. Shockwave, Beleth, you two have the central cache to dismantle. Spectre and I will carve a path in the central square once commotion has started and try to provide cover fire as you all return.  Any questions?”

“When do we panic?” Pacifist asked.  “When do we ask Eldritch to pull the trigger?” 

“If a whole group is going to go down, call for the monster,” Clemency replied.  “Eldritch, you ready?” 

I nodded.  

“Good.  Let’s go.  Out the back and be as stealthy as you can be.”  

Once we were outside, everyone was deathly quiet.  I stuck close by Siege as Ragdoll took point, throwing himself around with alarming agility, scouting ahead by tossing himself onto a rooftop with his strange brand of mobility.  He would wave Siege and I forward to avoid the Trillodan drill sergeants. As we started to move in closer, our progress became more haphazard. Siege and I were having trouble avoiding detection with there being more artificial lights and more people being drilled.  

“We’re taking too long,” Siege muttered under his breath.  “We’ve already used up half an hour and we’re still a several blocks out.  We’re going to have to fight our way out. We need to get there now.”  

“I don’t think rushing is the right idea.  No one else has chimed in saying they were ready to go yet,” I said.  

We both held our breath and Ragdoll launched himself onto another rooftop, beckoning for us to come forward.  

“And why are there so many people here,” I wondered.  

“Construction,” Siege muttered, pointing down the street.  Sure enough, the Ellayans were hard at work on more than just military drills.  The closer to the coast we crept, the more the buildings were being hastily erected of the same black metal that the Trillodan power armors was comprised of.  “This isn’t just a militia.”

“It’s a fucking prison camp.  They’re making the Ellayan’s their slaves.” 

“When your slave driver can destroy the planet in the push of a button, you do what they tell you to do,” Siege said, grim.  “They’re making a base of operation for the Trillodan. Even after our bout with the Ellayans, we’re going to be squaring off against a fresh batch of Trillodan military.  Zellig is looking to get his forces on the ground for a proper battle with us.” 

“No wonder people evacuated.” 

We hustled across the road as Ragdoll waved us forward from the roof.  

“Their security seems like shit,” Siege thought out loud.  “These guys can survey entire planets; you’d think they’d have better eyes on their own construction project.  Someone as trained as Zellig should be a step ahead of us, right?” 

Even one of Zellig’s underlings, the demolitionist Salah, had cordoned off a whole chunk of city and had it rigged with explosives and surveillance equipment.  Siege was right, there was no way they didn’t have it better monitored. “Trap?” 

“Probably.  I’m just wondering why they don’t spring it.” 

“Waiting for us to be better farther apart maybe?”

“Would Zellig want to just leave regular soldiers to handle us though?”  

I was worried that Siege was right.  Even though he had a fascination with killing people, Siege was no fool.  He didn’t survive going against Serpentine because he dived recklessly into engagements. 

Ragdoll waved us forward again and then dropped to meet us.  “Looks like it’s right ahead of us. Though, it’s got a handful of guards.” 

“Then we let Clemency know we’re in place to blow this shit up.  The fast we get the fuck out of here, the better.” Siege tapped his finger to his earpiece, “We’re good to blow shit up.  Everyone else ready?” 

Ragdoll and I looked to each other, alarmed; his voice hadn’t come through the earpiece.  

“Jamming communication,” I whispered.  “Which means no early extraction.”

“And no calling Clemency or Spectre for backup.”

Siege scoffed at the two of us, “Stop being so worried.  If we’re in place and we have no additional movement, others should be in place.  If not,” he said with a chuckle, “They’re going to have to hurry up.” Siege smiled as he stood up straight, closing his eyes for a moment; as his eyelids flicked open, his eyes were covered in a matrix of light.  From his core, a suit of armor materialized out, covering his torso and limbs like he had a swarm of nanites rapidly constructing it for him.  

Not just any armor.  Dragoon’s armor.  

Siege was a Conjurer that could fabricate copies of weapons or vehicles that he had seen or interacted with.  While his things had an expiration date, he didn’t normally need to use the full duration of the weapons he summoned.  He opened his hand and a massive rocket launcher materialized in his palm. “God, your friend’s armor is fucking dope,” he laughed, the helmet muting his voice.  “I can’t wait until she makes some upgrades on version three.”

There was something so horribly wrong about him using my friends armor, but I wasn’t going to say anything yet.  For now, we had a job to do.  

“Knock, knock,” Siege said with glee as he stepped into the street and took aim.

  Even with the strength granted by the suit, Siege staggered back as the missile flew down the street with a screech, slamming into the building with a deafening explosion.  Chunks of metal were shot in all directions as a hole appeared on the side of the stockpile. The guards positioned around the perimeter had been tossed aside, leaving a clear path…to absolutely nothing.  

“Empty,” Siege muttered, “This one was a fake.”

“Of course it was,” a familiar voice said derisively.  

On the roof above us, a familiar armored figure loomed.  He was clad in gunmetal colored armor that shifted and morphed into its own  flexible weaponry. The Trillodan responsible for maiming Dragoon. Tol, one of Zellig’s lieutenants.  

He dropped down on us, slapping aside the rocket launcher and easily evading a strike from Siege.  Tol slapped a hand against Siege’s chest and a pulse rippled through the air, sending him flying backward and through a wall like he’d been fired from a cannon.  The whole arm shifted into a blade, the edge just missing as Ragdoll threw himself backwards and rolled back up to his feet.  

“Fuck me,” I muttered as I backpedaled.  “Dragoon shot your arm off!”

“And you cost me a leg,” Tol snapped as his attention shot to me, “But thanks to Vaneel, I’ve just been improved!”  His right hand reformed, shifting like the rest of his armor did. He was right, all we’d done was given an already dangerous fiend a way to be more lethal.  

Tol’s attention snapped to the right as a new screech ripped through the air, another missile flying straight at the lieutenant.  Before impact, Tol’s arm morphed into a shield but the shockwave still sent him skidding backwards. Siege staggered back through the hole in the building, a bit marred and dusty but otherwise okay.  “That suit of yours is pretty cool,” Siege said as his current armor turned to dust, “I think I’ll give it a try.”  

Just like he’d created a copy of Dragoon’s, a picture perfect copy of Tol’s armor materialized across his skin.  

“Oh yeah,” Siege said with a laugh, “You guys make some great stuff.  I’m going to like this.”  

Tol sprinted back at us as an alarm klaxon began sounding, letting the entire installation know they were under attack, as if destroying a building wasn’t enough.  Around the smoldering building, Trillodan soldiers began forming up, as well as Ellayan militia. “Eldritch, Ragdoll,” Siege shouted, “Leave this bitch to me. Do some real damage if you can find a real cache.  We need to hit it and run!” 

“Eldritch, burn half of what you’ve got.  We need you to have some size as we run. Don’t go full beast mode yet.”

“Understood.”  I reached into my storage and felt a hundred kilograms of material dissolve.  I’d bought myself fifteen minutes at about three tonnes; it would be enough to fight against most regular soldiers and certainly against the scattered Ellayans.  

Behind us, Tol and Siege squared off.  While it was clear the Trillodan lieutenant had more combat prowess, Siege was able to rapidly equip a new arsenal to keep Tol at bay.  The first item in his hands was a copy of Dragoon’s rail gun that sent a round screeching through the building behind Tol. His other hand materialized a hand grenade as Ragdoll and I turned the corner.  

I hoped that Siege could keep himself safe for a little while.  

“Left,” I hissed to Ragdoll as a group of Ellayans formed up, all taking aim with Trillodan laser weapons.  Ragdoll threw an arm forward and sailed with it, closing the gap and rolling to his feet fluidly, immediately disarming one.  As the aquatic people tried to fight the man in their midst, it was clear they were out of their depth. Ragdoll whirled around, like a human tornado, knocking people aside with ease. 

As I lumbered forward to catch up, the bout was all but done.  

“Eldritch, grab that one,” he insisted.  I obliged and engulfed a poor, rattled Ellayan in a mass of writhing black tendrils.  I could feel his heart hammering as he stared back at my mass of growth, terrified.  

Ragdoll stepped froward, forcibly turning the Ellayan’s faces so they looked into each others eyes.  “Those guns, where did you get them?”

“The Trillodan-”

“A location.  A stockpile. An armory.  I’m assuming they don’t let you take those underwater.”  

“I, I can’t-”

“Eldritch, eat him,” Ragdoll commanded.  

“Wait!” the Ellayan shrieked, suddenly gifted with an epiphany.  “North of us. It’s a big green building. The Trillodan reinforced it.  Impossible to get into.”  

“You swear on your life?” 

“Yes!”  

In a blur, Ragdoll punched the Ellayan and knocked him cold.  “Drop him. We go fetch Siege and head north. If we can find Beleth and Shockwave, we group up with them.”

It was easy to retrace steps and find Tol still fighting with Siege.  The Trillodan lieutenant was actually losing ground against Siege and his adaptive arsenal.  There were cracks in Tol’s armor with blood seeping through. His movements were a bit sluggish while Siege still looked crisp and up to snuff.   Siege’s suit was glowing red. He’d created those red disks and opted to use a couple of them.  

Tol saw us coming and snarled as he was driven back again by Siege’s limitless weapon selection.  Reaching into a compartment on the armor, Tol cracked open one of those white glass tubes that teleported him away.  As Ragdoll and I drew closer, Siege let the armor around him disintegrate and he nearly fell onto Rags.  

“I think I hurt him, but whatever was in those red disks,” he muttered, “It’s not good for you.” 

Along his skin  there were little red streaks creeping, like there was some kind of noxious weed spreading roots across the flesh.  

“Whatever this shit is,” he said, “It’s strong.  But not worth what it does to you.” 

Overhead, a blue blur soared by, layering a few buildings in flame.  His other hand blasted out globes of acid that began eating through the Trillodan’s barricades.  Several tried to take shots at him; nothing connected but it kept him from getting any work down melting down the buildings.  

“Come on, we have to keep moving,” I hissed, “I only have another eight minutes left on my growth.” 

“So eat someone,” Siege suggested.  

“Grab something on the run,” Ragdoll insisted as more and more footsteps began clattering towards us.  “I can hear people trying to box us in. We can’t let that happen.”  

I lumbered forward, checking the road; as I stepped out, Ellayans shouted and began turning around, taking aim.

Can’t be cut down.  We’ll need to eat.

I didn’t want the monster to be right, but we couldn’t afford to be broken down.  If I was to lose my mass, I wasn’t going to survive this warzone. I roared and charged forward, terror stunning a few of them and I felt pity wash over me as I smashed them into the ground, gobbling up the mashed remains.  Their mass went to reclaiming my size and injuries. Even just eating two fresh bodies, I felt Eldritch itching to be let go, to be unrestrained with so much delectable material close by.  

Behind me, Ragdoll threw himself into another group of Ellayans, dealing devastating damage with his heavy blows.  Siege equipped a Trillodan weapon that I had never seen; instead of firing a laser it fired a bubble of purple liquid that exploded in a burst of violent flame once popped.  The three of us kept pushing forward with only our objective in mind.  

“Half our time is gone,” Siege told us after we had fought off a second little squad of Ellayans.  “Do you think everyone is having the same trouble we are?”

“Titan picked us because we were the best.  The others can manage,” Ragdoll insisted. I wasn’t so optimistic, but Ragdoll was right that we couldn’t afford to worry about them.    

While Clemency was being harassed in the air, he had managed to start one hell of a blaze and amp up the confusion and disorder.   Ellayans were scrambling trying to both fight and put out the fires he had set. Another two small regiments of militia tried to get in our way but did very little to harm us.  Even though it wasn’t as good as Tol’s armor, the standard Trillodan armor kept Siege safe, Ragdoll was too nimble to let himself be hit, and I could soak up lasers all day. The standard fare simply didn’t have enough punch to get through me.  

“There,” Siege said, pointing to an intersection that was being flooded by Trillodan soldiers and Ellayans alike.  

At first I couldn’t see what he meant, but then a concussive wave bowled a dozen people over.  In one corner of the intersection, Beleth and Shockwave were holed up. Beleth had made the terrain in front of them a bed of spikes and trenches while erecting a barrier for the both of them.  For Beleth’s shield, Shockwave was the sword. Beleth would drop the barrier of rock to let him fire a pair of blasts from his hands before the barrier was pulled back up to prevent recourse. Even though they were cornered, I felt pity for the Ellayans and Trillodan who were trying to assault them.  

“Problem,” Ragdoll cried out, pointing down the road.  

“Is that a Trillodan tank?” I hissed.  

It had the same steel plates that their prisoner transports did, and it hovered a few inches off the ground.  What made it distinct was the immense cannon on top as well as several barrels on the side. The Trillodan knew they couldn’t do more than just keep Beleth and Shockwave in a corner; they’d fetched a bigger gun to blow straight through the makeshift barricade.

“We need to get rid of that,” I hissed, “I can-”

I stopped in my tracks as Siege put distance between us, and materialized the same tank.  The original tank tried to pivot but couldn’t take aim before Siege’s duplicate fired a massive green bolt of energy that carved a hole straight through the center of the metal vehicle.  

Siege’s tank disintegrated immediately afterward and he fell to the ground, wheezing.  

The ensuing commotion gave Beleth and Shockwave a window to break free and clean up the rest of the stragglers in the intersection.  Those who weren’t impaled by stone spikes were blasted and crushed by Shockwave. A few lucky ones managed to escape and fight another day.  

“Good timing,” Shockwave said.  “Our cache was a bust, nothing there by some jackass who turned himself invisible and tried to stab me.  Good thing Beleth here can feel stuff through the ground.”  

“We know where their stockpile is.  It should be pretty close,” Ragdoll insisted.  

“It’s right there,” Siege panted, pointing at a green structure that stood a little taller than the surrounding buildings.  “Probably why they had a fucking tank right nearby.”  

Beleth stood in the middle of the group and waved a hand forward; the ground underneath us moved, letting us all glide down the road effortlessly.  Anyone who tried to stop our charge was either met with a blast from Shockwave or riddled with laser fire from Siege. Ragdoll and I were simply along for the ride.  

As much time as I had spent fighting against Beleth and Shockwave, the two of them were scary powerful.  Watching them work together made me very glad I wasn’t still at odds with them.  

We came to a stop in an open space that had likely been some kind of market square.  There were bits of what looked like vendor stalls broken down and abandoned to make way for this ugly green building.  The few Trillodan guards there were knocked aside by Beleth as Shockwave charged both his hands, each one giving off an ominous white glow.  

“You all should back up,” he insisted.  We obliged immediately as he swung his hands together in a thunderous clap.  A ripple of energy shot from his hands, exploding the second it touched the surface of the building.  Wood and metal exploded as shrapnel was blasted everywhere. The building groaned as its structure began to fail.  The sound grew as the three story building collapsed in on itself and released a billowing cloud of dust.  

Before we could celebrate, I felt Eldritch squirm and recoil, alarmed.  

They’re here for us.  

At first I wasn’t sure what it meant.  But, from the edges of the market, several figures stepped forward, all of them wearing custom armor and donning custom weaponry.  

Tol, Kalr, and Salah were there as well as three I hadn’t clashed against yet.

“We can trade a simple weapons depot for the six of you,” Salah said with a condescending laugh.  “You’ll be much more valuable to Zellig and Vaneel than any amount of basic armament.” 

“These Ellayan’s are fodder anyways,” another said, clearly one who wielded some authority given the commanding tone of voice she used.  “A tool to get what we want. But don’t worry,” she said.

“You all will be of great use to the Trillodan empire,” Tol concluded.

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

I wasn’t sure how long I just sat there waiting outside of Organelle’s med-bay, but eventually Dragoon came out with a little more color in her face.  Her arm was bound up in a cast but the rest of her seemed all considered. And fortunately for her, she’d also been given a change of clothes: a generic yellow t-shirt and pair of loose jeans.  

“How do you feel?” I asked as she took a seat next to me on the floor.  

“Shitty,”  she said, not needing to remind me why.

“Yeah.”  

“I don’t fucking think I can do this anymore,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.  “I don’t think I can watch more of my friends die because we can’t fucking find any traction.  I can’t watch someone else get their chest stomped in because the Trillodan have crazy super technology.”  She let her head lean back and hit the wall as a tear rolled down her cheek. “And we’re going to lose more people.  I’ve worked with like thirty different Adapted, talked and gotten along with so many others. If we keep going against them, I’m going to lose more friends.”  

Her eyes softened as she looked down at the ground.  “Fucking hell, Nick, I can’t lose you too.”

I didn’t have an honest answer to assuage her concerns.  “We have to try though, right? We’re already committed.”  

Alexis shook her head, “I don’t fucking know.  I just…I don’t. How many more people do we need to lose before Titan realizes we can’t win this?”

“We need to keep fighting though.  If we quit now, Murphy and Mutant will be lost for nothing.”  

She scoffed, “Right.  Fighting. I’ve got an arm broken enough that Organelle needs to see me multiple times to put it all back together.  And even when I have all my limbs working, that bastard Jai dissolved my fucking armor! How am I going to fight anymore, Nick?  I’m just going to build another suit?” She let out a shaky breath, trying to get a hold of herself and struggling.  

“The second one was way better than the first, right?” I said optimistically.  “Maybe the third will be able to go toe-to-toe with any of Zellig’s band of assholes.”  

“When am I going to do it?  I won’t have time to fight before we leave Vuuldar.  I’m fucking done.”  

I could tell from her tone that this reached farther than just her being out a suit of power-armor.  She was done in every sense of the word. Alexis Trent had no more gas in the tank; Murphy being taken had been her breaking point.  She was not going to be able to claw her way back, not for a while.  

And nothing I could say was going to change her mind.  But… there was one person who might be able to.

“I talked to Titan.”

She gave me a surprised look.  “Really? About what?” 

“Few things, and what he wants me to do when we end up fighting that Ellayan militia.  He also told me he wants to talk to you.”  

“Nick,” she said softly, “What does he want you to do?” 

I pursed my lips, not looking forward to her reaction.  “He’s planning to have me eat a third of them. He’s going to use me as a big enough threat so that Playlist and Soliloquy can help convince the rest of the Ellayan’s to not fight us.  We just need a big enough motivator to scare everyone into line.” 

“That’s fucking barbaric,” she hissed. “You can’t seriously be thinking about doing it!” 

“I’m still on the fence,” I said.  “There’s plenty of reason to go either way.  No one else can do what I can.”

“Except Infinite.  Your power isn’t Cognate based at all.  She could replicate what you do. So could Spectre.”

“Spectre can copy powers but she doesn’t have all the nuance down which is why she generally takes powers from people she knows and has been around for a while.  Do you really want someone getting my power for the first time and consuming that much material? And, if Infinite does it, what happens if she loses control? How do we stop her then?” 

Alexis bit her tongue, visibly annoyed that I actually had a rebuttal.  As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Titan was a few steps ahead of us and had reasoned out those possibilities.  Using me gave the best option for control of the behemoth while still giving him a backup plan to deal with me should it be necessary.  

“And what happens to you?”

“What?” 

My friend turned her hips to jam a finger into my chest.  “What happens to you, Nick?  What happens to your brain after you subject yourself to being that big again?  That thing inside you, Eldritch, it got smarter after Feast Day. You changed after Feast Day.  It fucked with you in a big way. And…”  

I grabbed my shoulder and looked away, suddenly wrought with guilt.  “You don’t want to lose me to that thing,” I said, finishing her worry.  “But, how many people die if I don’t?”

“Let’s not talk about this any more,” she insisted.  

“Okay.”  

She groaned and pushed herself up to her feet, “Alright, I’m going to go talk to Titan before Forest fucking shows up to drag me to him.  I might as well go and see what he wants.”  

I followed her and we stepped back outside and down the ramp, catching a glimpse of our head-honcho walking around the side of the ship, where it looked like it had chunks taken out.  

As we joined them, we were greeted with a full scale operation going on.  

“They’re already cutting out the old cryo-pods,” Dragoon muttered, “Lopping off sections of the ship we don’t need to make it more lightweight.  He’s using Mizu like a fucking power tool,” she exclaiming, pointing up a few floors. Sure enough, the Projector from Imperium had basically a sawblade of water literally carving through metal as he whirled his arms around.  Besides him, there were duplicates of the same girl in a pair of simple overalls and a red t-shirt with brown gloves.  

Multi-task, the one woman workforce.  Another Adapted who had been following Titan from the start, Multi-task could split herself into dozens of clones as long as she could assign a specific purpose to each one.  With a whole ship to reconfigure, there was no shortage of jobs to complete.  

“Dragoon,” Titan’s commanding voice called.  He beckoned us over, watching the work progress. “I’m glad we finally get a chance to chat.”

“How did-”

“Big Picture had some ideas about what you would want to do.  While he can’t get into the technical specifics like you can, it was an easy enough place to start.  I’ve had Mizu and Forest ripping chunks of the ship free, and so far just the cryo-storages. Big Picture was sure we wouldn’t need those.  What he wasn’t sure about was what else we could discard to give up more weight.”  

She nodded, “So what do you need from me?”

Titan raised an eyebrow, “I need your expertise.  Big Picture might be able to guess what you plan to do, but he has no idea what you do to fix the ship, he simply knows you’ll need to fix it up.  The more specific the information, the less accurate he starts getting. Asking him how to fix or bolster the engine is setting us up for failure.”  

“I-”

“Dragoon.  You are the best suited to this task.  Toolkit builds upon initial designs. While she can help overhaul some of the existing technology, you and her work extraordinarily well together.  You create a solution, she betters it. As much animosity as you two had, we need you to work together, and quickly.”

She stood there, silent for a moment, the din of ship repairs the only sound.  “I can’t,” she finally admitted. “I can’t think straight.” 

Titan opened his mouth but didn’t have a reply.  

“I’m sorry, Titan, but after yesterday, I just don’t think I’m good enough.  I lost my fucking suit because some idiot hit it with a vial of what was basically living acid.  I watched one friend die and another be taken. My arm was shattered hard enough that Organelle couldn’t put it back together in one sitting.”  

“I understand,” he said after a pregnant pause.  “It’s not what I needed to hear though.” 

Dragoon’s face twisted in disgust.  “What you needed to hear?  What the fuck is wrong-” 

Her voice caught in her throat as he pulled a small syringe from his pocket.  Dragoon drew away from it with a degree of disgust that suggested she was already familiar.  Organelle had already been dosed with it, and it seemed like Titan planned for Dragoon to be next on the list of those give a power boost.    

“I’m really sorry, Dragoon, about what happened yesterday.  I heard about it from Interface. I wish I had time to let you grieve for Parasite, I really do.  But,” he made a sweeping gesture to all the Adapted on the hill, “They all need you. None of us, for all our strength and power, have your brain.  None of us are trained engineers or mechanics, not the way you are.”  

“I…I had to leave him, Titan,” she whimpered, “I had to leave my friend behind.  I had to watch Zellig walk off with him, like he was some kind of prize from an arcade.  I had to tell Distortion to take us as far away as possible!” 

I wanted an excuse to be mad at Titan and call him unfelling, call him monstrous; the truth was that he looked just as hurt as her.  He knew exactly what she was experiencing and he was doing his level best to be empathetic.  

But there was that cold pragmatism driving him forward.  He hadn’t wanted to confront me and give me orders to repeat Feast Day, and he definitely hadn’t wanted to deprive Dragoon time to rest and grieve.  

Still, he wasn’t wrong when he said there was no one else who could do what she did.  Spectre and Infinite could theoretically recreate my power, though it was likely to be wild and uncontrolled if they did.  But with Dragoon, she had worked and toiled for week and months to build her existing knowledge base and allow for her Adaptation to expand.  Just as Murphy had pushed himself physically to increase his own might, Alexis had pushed her brain to allow her gift room to stretch its legs.  

Infinite’s only limitation was copying Cognate powers so she was out, and Spectre wouldn’t have the same information base to work from.  Even if she copied my friend’s gift, it would be like watching Dragoon try to learn from the ground up again.  

When Titan  said there was no one else who could do what she did, he was being literal.  

“Please, Titan,” she pleaded, “I just…I can’t-”

“I can’t let everyone die.  I’m sorry Dragoon, I truly am.  But the longer we’re stuck here, the closer we hurtle to a future where we’re all captured or dead.  Help me keep us from losing anyone else. Help us all avoid losing friends. Please.”  

Tears started to well up as she looked to me for some kind of support, but I wasn’t sure what to say.  As much as I wanted to take pity on my friend, Titan was right.  

“I’m so tired,” she said.  “I-”

His expression hardened, that cold pragmatism starting to cut through the soft empathy.  “Dragoon, you can either administer the drug yourself or I can. I’m sorry, but we don’t have time to waste.”  

“Titan I don’t…” I said, finally speaking up.

He silenced me with a glare, those red eyes of his driving me a step back.  

Alexis looked between the syringe in his hand and Titan’s intense stare.  She finally hung her head, defeated. “Give me the shot.”  

He nodded, uncapping the needle as he pulled aside her shirt, exposing a shoulder.  “I’m sorry for having to do this again,” he muttered. “I never wanted it to be like this.”  

Before she could offer any last minute objections or voice any reservations, he jabbed the need and pressed the plunger down.  Dragon gulped down any nerves she had and looked back at me, “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m busy, okay?” 

I nodded, “Yeah, sure thing.”  

Alexis let out a slow exhale and her pupils dilated, the drug taking effect.  “Okay, let’s get to work.”  

---

The best thing about managing to make it to the new base camp was the fact that there was actual food, and plenty of it.  Apparently in the wake of the Ellayan’s militarizing, a majority of the human population had abandoned this town and driven south, getting the hell out of dodge before it all went to shit.  

While looting a handful of small stores and co-ops wasn’t exactly the  most noble thing to do, I wasn’t about to complain. A few of the Adapted from Vuuldar had set up a little grill on the side of the hill and were making burgers and quesadillas.  While it was a bizarre mix of cuisines, I didn’t bother complaining. Collector was nice enough to provide more furniture for people to take a seat and I found myself sitting down next to the group of Altered who had once terrorized me on Tso’got.  

The Lunatics.  

Spectre, Bargain, and Pacifist flashed me a smile, Psycho himself just stared at his plate of food like he was trying to remember why he was supposed to be eating.  

“Been a bit, Eldritch,” Bargain said as he made space for me at their table.  “I hear you had a hell of a night.”

“Word spreads quickly,” I muttered. 

“Doesn’t even need to spread.  We saw you come up with Serpentine, and they’re down two. Everyone else is battered to shit.  Plus, you’re missing two since last we saw you.”

I winced, not caring for his clinical evaluation of our groups status.  “Yeah.”  

“Bargain, take it easy,” Pacificist chided, “The guy’s had a hard day.  The last thing he needs is to be reminded about how awful it was.”  

It dawned on me that the Lunatics originally had five members.  Dysfunction, the Projector who caused things to malfunction, was absent.  

Bargain nodded and looked back to his food, trying to veil how much that weighed on him.  “Yeah. Sorry.” 

I decided to change the topic to anything else.  Talking with a handful of people more broken than I was about losing friends seemed like a quick spiral into depression that I didn’t need.  “What the hell is wrong with Psycho?” 

He barely even registered that his name had been spoken.

“Nothing’s really wrong with him,” Spectre said.  “He’s just got Cotard’s Syndrome today.”

“What is-”

“He thinks he’s dead,” Bargain explained.  “Basically, Psycho doesn’t believe that he’s alive at all.  We have to remind him to do basic activities because, well, why would a dead person need to eat and bathe?  The upside,” he continued, predicting my question, “Is that Cotard’s makes him immortal. We’ve seen him get his head torn off and not stop kicking.”  

“Not the best combat illness though,” Pacifist confessed.  “Immortality doesn’t really help you do much against people with power armor.  It was really useful on Tso’got when we fought regular humans or other Adapted.” 

I nodded and ate the food I picked up, forgetting how scary powerful all of the Lunatics were.  Pacifist was arguably the weakest, but her power was to basically lull people into complacency. If she was given enough time to work on a single person she could effectively put them into a coma.  Bargain was capable of making himself a demigod for an hour at the cost of sustaining injury later, and Spectre could copy anyone else’s power. Plus, she could just turn ethereal and fly around for short periods of time.  

And then there was Psycho and his crazy arsenal.  

Just as I finished my food, I yelped in surprise as Forest materialized beside me.  It was like I couldn’t get away from the Prime Trio today no matter how hard I tried.  

“I need you all to follow me.  Titan and Clemency want to talk with you.”  

My face scrunched up in a frown, “But you-”

She glared at me, clearly not giving a damn about my objections.  “Just, follow me.”  

We all obliged since no one knew how to say no to someone like Forest.  Back inside the ship, she led us to a room with Clemency, Titan, and Big Picture.  A moment later, Beleth, Shockwave, and the head of Black Mass–Siege–joined us.  

I fought the urge to say something profane at Beleth.  Even though Titan had insisted we needed to put aside our differences, I loathed being in the same room as the man who had murdered my parents in front of me.  

“What the hell’s going on, Titan?” Shockwave asked, not one to beat around the bush.  

“We have a problem,” Titan confessed.  “Even though we got Dragoon back, we’re not going to have enough time to fix the ship to leave.  And, if Clairvoyant is to be believed, we’re not likely to win.”

“How bad?” Bargain asked.

“Eleven visions, eight of us being wiped clean.  The other three aren’t pretty and still don’t end with us making it off world.  We’re pretty sure that it just means that we’re going to be hunted down later.” 

Even Psycho in his current state seemed to register that this was bad news.  

“So, what are we doing about it?” Beleth asked.  “I’m assuming that just running headlong into the Trillodan and Ellayans isn’t the best idea either.”  

Titan turned to Big Picture, giving him the floor.  

“Fighting them outright would be too dangerous.  Pulling too many people away from the ship ensures that it becomes a target.  If the ship goes, our clock resets at best. At the worst, we never recover and never manage to get off world.  It forces us to hold the fort and leave at least a lion’s share of the Adapted present to avoid it being demolished.”

“But you got some of the strongest people here.  You have different plans for us then,” Siege said.  “Are you using us to thin the herd or something?” 

“Not exactly.  Zellig and his elite soldiers are excellent at small engagements.  They each have their niche and are conscripted to deal with isolated problems.  However, there are simply too many Adapted in one area to compartmentalize and control us.  The last thing Zellig wants to do is send his men out to die.”

“That’s why he’s using the Ellayans,” Clemency said, as if prompting Big Picture to get on with it.  

“Right, but that also means he won’t want to risk his own troops until after the Ellayan’s initial assault.  As long as we can delay it, we can effectively delay the Trillodan’s push against us.  You all represent the most independent group of fighters around, and because of this, we’re going to use you to sabotage the Ellayan forces.”

“Infinite has done some scouting around and has found a few weapon caches that the Trillodan have set up.  Our goal is to destroy those and buy ourselves some time while they ferry more armament down to the surface.”

“So why not send her to destroy them?” Bargain shot back at Titan, “Why the fuck would you risk all of us?”

“Because he doesn’t want to kill everyone,” Big Picture snapped, annoyed at the interruption.  “You might have been criminals back on Tso’got, but even you wouldn’t stoop so low as to simply cull innocent people.” 

Titan sighed.  “Using Infinite brings about risks.  If things go wrong, there’s no telling what kind of damage she does.  You are all in control. You can all mitigate your own impact.”

“What the fuck is he doing here then?” Shockwave asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at me.  “Last I remember, Eldritch was known for losing control in spectacular fashion.” He turned and shrugged, “No offense, but you broke my leg that night.  Not exactly the type of thing I forget.”

I waved, letting it go.  In our time onboard the ship, I had actually gotten along pretty well with Imperium.  As coarse as Shockwave was, he was at least honest and upfront. Whether you wanted the truth of not, he would give it to you.

“Shockwave’s right,” I admitted.  “I’m known for losing control, Titan.  Why am I here? Why not Shock and Awe or Eclipse?  There are plenty of other heavy hitters you could send besides me.”

“None of them offer a panic button the same way you do,” Big Picture explained.  All the people here can be surgically precise. However, if everything goes sideways, we can let you go on a rampage.  We can use the fear you strike into the Ellayan soldiers as another means of delaying them.”

I frowned, “It just means I’d be eating tons of them.”

Titan nodded, “Yes.”  He turned to the rest of the group he’d gathered, “Since she’s in the camp, we’ll use Distortion’s ability to teleport to get you close to the docks without any risk of detection.  We’d give you a time limit of two hours before you have to make it to a rendezvous spot that Infinite will scout out; once the time limit is up, Distortion will pull back whoever is there and ready.”

“Two hours isn’t a lot of time,” Pacifist said, worried.  “Are you sure we’ll have enough time?”

“We can’t afford to spare more.  Given the ships we’ve watched over the last day, we can assume that two hours is all it takes for a ship of Trillodan soldiers to come down from orbit; we don’t want to risk the fight escalating between you and their soldiers.  If the Trillodan soldiers engage, it becomes much more likely that Zellig and his elite enter into things as well.” 

The first to break the subsequent silence was Shockwave who clapped his hands together.  “Alright, let’s go blow some shit up! I’ve been itching for a good fight. Anyone else?” 

One by one the others agreed to go until I was the last one to make up my mind.  

As all eyes were on me, I had to ask myself a hard question: was I willing to be Titan’s killing machine?  Was I willing to be his monster? Was I willing to dirty myself working beside the people who were Scoundrels back on Tso’got?  

“Alright,” I finally said, “Let’s do it.” 

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The only upside about the Trillodan militarizing the Ellayan population was that it drew people away from where we were heading.  

Interface steered us towards where Titan was setting up shop, well removed from the coast.  It seemed that Big Picture had pushed Titan towards the idea of using one of the old ark ships for getting us the hell of this planet.  Part of why Interface had found us was because Titan knew he’d need Dragoon to get the damn thing off the ground. Thank God that the pilot had decided to dump the ship a ways away from the coast.  It let us drive around the majority of the city completely ignored, not that anyone was coming out anyways. Every human had sequestered themselves if they hadn’t evacuated already. No one wanted to be seen by the Trillodan if they could avoid it.  If this generation of survivors was anything like those on Tso’got, they would avoid the galactic tyrants at all cost.  

If they were anything like our parents had been, any rebellious tendency within them had burned along with Earth nearly three decades ago.  

It wasn’t too long before we found ourselves approaching an ark vessel; I heard they were monstrous, but I didn’t fully appreciate exactly how massive they were.  

Originally built in atmosphere, they had been the product of years of labor with hundreds of craftsmen putting together a ship able to relocate massive swaths of society to a new refuge.  While our first vessel had been the size of a damn football field, this was easily quadruple the size, or at least it had been. Chunks of it had been cut free, like someone had taken a massive saw to some of the sections of the vessel.  

“We’re going to get that off the ground?” Lightshow asked.

“We can figure it out,” Dragoon said, not sounding at all sure of herself.  While this had been her plan, the original fire that burned within her was gone.  You could feel that emptiness in her, that pain that couldn’t be ignored anymore. Even though Adapted were incredibly resilient to mental stress and trauma, this was more than she could bear.  

It had only been a few hours since her childhood friend was ripped away.  Of course she wasn’t okay. Truth be told, Alexis and I might never be okay after last night.  

“I’m not trying to be too negative here,” Interface said, “But do you think you’ll be able to make it happen fast enough?  I mean, if the Trillodan are gathering an army, we’re not going to have a ton of time before everything goes to shit.”

“Because once they use the Ellayans as fodder, the Trillodan themselves clean up afterward,” Menagerie added.  

“Maybe Titan has some ideas,” I said, alleviating some of the pressure from Dragoon.  Right now she didn’t have the wherewithal to make a cogent argument or defend herself.  The last thing she needed was tremendous pressure to save a whole sect of people. That was more than she could bear for now.  

“I’m just hoping that Titan has some food,” Exchange yawned, “I’m starving.”  

“If we’re back on Repositories cooking I’m going to hand myself over to the goddamn Trillodan,” Lightshow grumbled.  

Menagerie laughed, and it surprised everyone in the cab.  None of us had been able to crack a smile since last night; the Peculiar artist laughing was permission enough for everyone to lighten up and laugh a little.  Even though none of us in the truck were happy, laughing was a blissful reprieve. Admittedly, I felt a pang of pity for Exchange; the blonde looked woefully confused as to why her comment was funny.    

As we got closer, I was expecting some kind of ambush.   I expected for one of Jai’s slimes to block the road, the demolitionist Salah to blow up the road out from under us, the juggernaut Kalr to slam into us and roll the truck.  Perhaps a brigade of Trillodan infantry would set up a firing line or, worse yet, Zellig himself would come to claim a few more of us as his grisly trophies.

Instead our approach to Titan’s base camp was uneventful which made me all the more paranoid.  Vuuldar seemed to have longer days than Tso’got did, but it had probably only been thirty hours since our arrival.  Even in such a short time, I’d gotten used to the frenetic and hectic, adrenaline fueled fights we’d been swept up in.  Despite the stakes and the losses, there was something strangely comforting about it.  

Adapted fought.  It was what we did.  Originally I thought that was a bit of a jab at our violent exploits on Tso’got, but I started to wonder if there wasn’t some kind of underlying and biologic truth to that saying.  

When we were kids, Alexis was one who avoided conflict.  She had avoided confrontation with her parents for years and years; once we embraced our role as Reckoners, she never backed down from a challenge.  Murphy used to be pushed around and bullied but took it upon himself to be stronger and turn fighting into a work of art. He’d stood up to Zeal to prove a point, even at risk of life and limb, knowing full well that he wasn’t supposed to win that fight.  Even for me, tapping into the primal power of Eldritch felt good. Even though Feast Day horrified me, I would be lying if I said that the power wasn’t intoxicating. There was something primal and gratifying about being powerful and knowing I could rise to the challenge.  

As we drew closer to the old ship, I noticed a figure flying down to meet us.  I recognized the way he carried himself, but it was strange to see him without his cobalt clad armor.  

Interface parked the truck and woke back up.  “Clemency!” Interface greeted with a smile as they opened the door.  

“Good to see you,” he said.  The Projector’s grin turned to a frown as he saw us clambering out of the truck.  “Is this-“

“It’s everyone,” Dragoon said, cutting him off.  “Where’s Organelle?” 

Clemency noticed the laid out members of Serpentine in the back and grimaced.  “Goliath!” Clemency shouted, “We need a hand!”

From up the hill, a small figure sprinted down towards us, rapidly enlarging as he approached.  The musclebound brawler from Surface Dwellers wordlessly scooped up the members in the truck bed and turned around, jogging back up the hill in haste.  Clemency helped steady Trample and I put an arm under Alexis to help her up the hill. Behind us, Lightshow created a stretcher and, with Exchange’s help, wheeled Adamant up behind us.  

Looking around, I was reminded of the last site where Titan had been hiding a ship.  Right before we’d had to abandon Tso’got, it had been a hive of activity and this was no different.  People were talking and milling around, some seeming to investigate the ship or be discussing battle plans with others.    

What was different was the tone. 

Back on Tso’got, we knew that we had an exit plan.  Back on Tso’got, we were one step ahead of the Trillodan.  

This time the Trillodan were a step ahead of us.  

We were staring down an army and we didn’t have an escape plan.  Even if Infinite could get us off world, the ark ship was in desperate need of repairs; the moment we were in the void of space, we’d all be choking once the oxygen was sucked away from us.  Discounting the external work that needed to happen, the ark ships were older than any of us. I had my suspicions that a rocket engine was good to go after nearly three decades without any kind of upkeep. 

And as far as I knew, the only two people who really could do quality work fixing the damn thing were Dragoon and Toolkit.  Given the unrest of the other Adapted here, they knew that too.    

The ship had been dumped on top of a grassy hill overlooking the bay.  If we had time to truly relax and appreciate the scenery, it would have been a fantastic place to drink in a view.  There were plenty of Adapted on the hill, trying to appreciate the calm before the storm, but they sucked at it. I saw Psycho and his band of Lunatics huddled up, whispering amongst themselves.  Shockwave was off to the side, still in his coat with a cigarette in hand talking to Beleth. Playlist had one headphone in while chatting with a few Adapted I knew by reputation from Tso’got.  

Clemency led us up a ramp and into the bowels of the ship.  While the original ship Multi-task had made was clean and tidy, this thing felt like it desperately needed restoration.  It was covered in dust and oppressively musty. Despite the smell, there were plenty of familiar faces, and plenty of new ones too.  Big Picture was talking with Clairvoyant, Command was talking with a pair of red-headed twins I’d never seen before, and one scantily clad woman with a long spiked trail caught my eye.  

“You’re a pig,” Dragoon whispered, managing to provide a small grin.  

“I’m seventeen,” I said defensively, “If there was ever a time to look at a girl…” 

“Here,” Clemency announced, herding us through a sliding metal door.  Inside, the always graceful Organelle was in a room surrounded by battered and sick looking Adapted.  Some of them I recognized: Blitz from Black Mass, Pyre and Hive from Surface Dwellers, even Contagion from Occult was laid up.  And there were just as many faces that were present that I didn’t know. Whether you had been an Adapted on Tso’got or a Selected on Vuuldar, none of us seemed to be safe from the Trillodan.    

“Organelle, where?” Clemency asked. 

“Anywhere,” she snapped, her demeanor markedly more hostile than I remembered.  “I’ll get to them when I can.”

“She’s been drugged,” Dragoon whispered to me as I helped lay her down on a small bedroll that hadn’t been claimed.  

“What?”

  “That shit Chemtrail made.  That shit Titan gave me back on Tso’got so I could build drones for him,” she said.  “Titan’s given a hit of that to Organelle. Her body language, it’s all wrong.”  

Titan had let people die instead of interrupting autonomy.  If he was administering a power booster and putting people to work, things were getting desperate.  

“Lightshow,” Dragoon said, “You feeling good enough to work?”

Our Altered comrade nodded and helped get the limp form of Adamant draped over Exchange’s shoulders.  Once he was set, she dismissed the stretcher and began making a duplicate of Organelle; it seemed easier for her a second time, though it could be that she’d finally gotten some sleep since losing her arm.  

Clemency raised an eyebrow at us not leaving Adamant with Organelle, “Why-“

“Trillodan left something in his body.  It isn’t organic, but it’s attached to his spine.  We’re hoping that Infinite or someone else can get it removed for him.” 

“Follow me,” he said, leading the way up a flight of metal steps.  Clemency guided us through the maze of corridors to the flight deck…which wasn’t nearly as grand as I imagined.  The ship that Multi-task feautred an immense pane of glass across the front, making it almost an observatory. This was a small deck littered with control stations and precious little space for anyone who wasn’t needed to fly the damn thing.  There were dozens of blank displays, half a dozen stations with a bevy of control, dials, and buttons all at their disposal. At the front, a familiar redhead raised her face and flashed a smile that quickly fell into a frown. “What’s wrong?” she asked, getting up and meeting us halfway.  

We put Adamant in a chair and leaned him forward.  “The Trillodan shot him with a device, basically a small coil of metal around his spine is keeping him paralyzed.”

Infinite filed in behind Adamant for a better look.  I felt heat radiate from her as her eyes changed color and she got to work.  “Clemency, I can handle this. Let Titan know that the Sentries are here. I know he wants to talk with Dragoon.”  Her voice was surprisingly curt and forced, like she was frustrated with the inconvenience or us being here.    

I hadn’t spent a lot of time with Infinite, but this was very different for her.  

“Sure.  Will you need-“

“No,” she barked.  “Don’t bother Command for this.  I’m fine.”

Clemency bowed and backed off, knowing better than to press his luck.  

It was interesting to watch Infinite up close and get some insight into her strange power.  When she added a new power to her arsenal, her eyes shifted some, slowly veiling her own original features.  As more of her power bled out, the air around her felt alive. It was like as she changed the space around tried to change with her.  

The first power added little red spots in the whites, a second little yellow streaks, and a third little black swirls that seemed to fill some of the gap between the streaks.  

Infinite pressed a hand to Adamant’s skin and it parted for her, like her fingertip was some kind of scalpel.  She leaned forward, studying the little band of metal constricting around his spine. A green tint covered her pupil and little beads of vibrant green liquid covered the end of her fingertips.  Leaning her index finger near the little metal band, a single drop splashed against the metal snare; an acrid scent filled the air as the green fluid attacked the metal. Whatever acid Infinite made was on a mission and it took very little time for Adamant to wake up violently.  

He clawed at the floor, gasping for air; Exchange grabbed him, keeping him from reaching back at the opening that Infinite had made on his neck.  

“Let her finish-“ 

“What the fuck happened to me?  Where the fuck am I?” Adamant demanded.  He opened his mouth to say more but all that tumbled out was a surprised cry of pain as Infinite dragged her finger along his neck to re-seal the skin.  

“The Trillodan paralyzed you,” Exchange explained while Adamant still caught his breath.  “They hit you with something that stopped your nerves, basically made you a human vegetable until we could get it ripped off.”

He grimaced as he rubbed the spot on his neck.  “They knew about me,” he said, annoyed. “They got rid of me early.”  

“Seems that way.  Oh, introductions,” I said.  “Infinite, this is Adamant, head of the Lost Children.  Adamant, this is Infinite. The most powerful person here.” 

“Hi,” Infinite greeted meekly, her hostile demeanor gone.  Adamant seemed dubious about my assertion but still shook her hand gladly.  

“Thanks for getting that off my spine,” he muttered.  “Exchange, where’s Distortion?” 

“With Organelle,” the blond teen answered, “She had one of those on her spine too…but we had to rip it off so she’d wake up.  She lost use of her left side; Organelle is trying to fix it.”  

Adamant was a little shaky getting up, but he wasn’t going to be deterred from seeing his underling being patched up.  He said another thank you to Infinite on the way out. I tried to leave with them, but Infinite caught my shirt.  

“I want to talk to you, Eldritch,” she said.  It wasn’t the same curt demand she’d given to Clemency earlier, but there was something ominous about the way she said it, like she knew that no one was going to enjoy the ensuing conversation.   

I had a sinking sense that I knew exactly what she wanted to talk about.  

As I took a seat some distance away, Infinite grimaced and blinked the color out of her eyes.  The strange pattern seemed to travel along her skin down to her fingers where she whipped her hand and expelled it.  Infinite shuddered and composed herself. “Forest,” she called out to the room.

“Yes, Charlotte, I’m here,” a disembodied voice answered.  A moment later, a girl in white materialized as a group of roots slithered across the floor and wove themselves together.  I squinted around the edges of the room, catching glimpses of the tiny bits of flora that was Forest and wondered how long she’d been watching and how much of the camp she was keeping an eye on.  “Good to see you again, Eldritch.”  

“Hey,” I said.  “So, um, I think I know what this is about.”

“So then you understand why we have to have this conversation,” Forest stated.  

Of course this was a conversation I was going to have.  Lightshow had brought up the idea which meant Titan had thought of it too.  With the Trillodan provoking an army to march on us, it meant there was an opportunity for me to cannibalize hundreds of people and utilize the fact that my power had no ceiling as long as I could keep feeding it.  But, Forest had been there for Feast Day and remembered how much effort she’d expended trying to stop me; she was not eager to repeat that.    

“You’re afraid of another Feast Day,” I said, solemn.  “It’s not going to happen.”

She was unconvinced.  “Right. Emotional triggers.  Speaking of, where’s Parasite?  I didn’t see him among your crew.”

  Forest’s words were like a slap to the face.  I’d told Titan that I’d been emotionally unstable because the first trigger was watching Beleth kill my parents back on Tso’got.  That ensuing volatility had let Eldritch take control. I hated that she was calling it into question, but she wasn’t wrong to do so.      

“We know you won’t do it on purpose,” Infinite said, playing the good cop, “But after a certain point you become awful hard to bring down.  If the Trillodan are sending thousands of people at us and you gobble up a few hundred…”

“I know.”  I took a deep breath to steady myself.  “I know it was only a few weeks ago, but I’m not the same guy anymore.  The thing I grow, it’s alive. And we’ve come to some agreement about control.”  

Being mentioned caused the beast to stir a little and listen in like a fly on the wall.  

Forest wasn’t the best at generating facial expressions because she had so much body to control, but she managed to look incredibly suspicious of my claim.  “Eldritch, we want one thing to be abundantly clear: if you lose control, we will put you down.”  

Infinite winced, not liking the harsh assertion.  “We can’t risk everyone else if you get out of hand.  If we think you’re out of hand, we’ll do whatever it takes to make sure the others are safe.”  

“And what about Titan’s opinion?” I asked.  “Where is the third member of the Prime Trio?” 

“He’s busy,” Infinite offered.

I set my jaw, frustrated that I was someone that could be ignored like this.  If two of the three most powerful people among us were warning me about going overboard, I wanted to know what the head of our crusade was planning.  Surely he had some kind of grand design or plan to make use of Eldritch, and I knew that neither of these two were the ideas people. Forest fed him information and Infinite was his enforcer.  Even though he was powerful, Titan’s greatest strength was his mastery of delegating.  

Titan knew exactly how valuable Eldritch was and he had some grand role reserved for it, of that I was sure.  Otherwise, why the hell did he keep us alive on Tso’got? Titan went to great lengths and risked his own life and limb to keep me intact; there was no way he did it out of decency.  He was too interested in self-preservation for such sentimental heroics.  

I vividly remembered the end of my rampage and being sequestered in the alley.  I remembered attacking him, nearly engulfing his arm; the only thing that kept him from losing a limb was the fact Titan’s coat had been imbued with power by Armorsmith.  If it hadn’t, even Organelle wouldn’t have been able to undo the damage.  

“What is Titan planning to do with me?” I asked, looking to gauge their reactions.  “You’re only giving me warnings because you assume I’m going to get wildly large. Why?”  

“In a perfect world he would keep you away from the fight,” Infinite said.  “Under ideal circumstances, he can employ a handful of non-lethal measures to deal with the Ellayan militia.” 

“Such as?” 

“Powerhouse bolstering Playlist and Soliloquy would be a good start,” Forest said.  

Playlist was another one of Titan’s devoted, and the kid had a powerful arsenal up his sleeve.  Whatever music he listened to granted a specific ability ranging from destructive telekinesis to superspeed.  To my understanding, some of those powers were emotional influencers, such as a calming presence or a dread-inducing aura around him.  

Soliloquy was someone I had gotten to know  during our last night on Tso’got. A member of Flagbearers, he was a Projector who could give commands and glamour people who heard him speaking.  It was like instant hypnosis that only grew in power the longer he was allowed to talk to people.  

If Powerhouse gave them extra gifts to bolster their own kit, they might be able to stop a small army without any bloodshed being necessary. 

“Except the Trillodan won’t let that happen,” I said.  “Titan has to know that.”  

“He’s hoping to keep the fighting minimalized and protect the innocent people.  If all goes well, we’ll be able to segregate the Ellayans away from the Trillodan.” 

  “We’re guessing that we’re going to have to kill half of them,” Forest said, blunt as ever.  “Titan’s hope is to make you big enough that Soliloquy and Powerhouse can easily make the rest of them fall in line and avoid any excess bloodshed.”  

Now it was starting to make sense.  “And you want to make sure that I can control myself and still follow along with his plan.”

They both nodded.  

“I should be able to.  At very least, I can do my best to direct it to the Trillodan.  We both hate them so it shouldn’t be a hard sell.” 

That got a smile from Infinite and no discernible response from Forest.  

“Whatever happens,” Forest said, “Just know the risks you take.  I’d rather not have to pick another fight with you.”  

I gave a sheepish smile and Forest’s figure dispersed as the roots slithered out of the room, leaving Infinite and I alone.  She let out a long sigh, as if she’d been holding it in ever since Forest got here. “I’m sorry she gets… confrontational. Forest also doesn’t care for you all that much since you ripped a lot of her apart back on Tso’got.”  

“I figured.”

“She does respect you though,” she added, as if that somehow made things better.  “She’s just distracted looking everywhere for Titan.” She trailed off, looking down, as if somehow I made her nervous.  It still perplexed me that the most powerful person in the galaxy was such an anxious bundle of nerves.  

If she wanted to, she could kill everyone and we’d be powerless to stop her.  You’d figure that kind of power would inspire some confidence.

“Infinite,” I said, “How hard would it be for you to stop me?” 

“Huh?” 

“They told you about Feast Day.  Titan and Forest had to work together with power boosters to bring me down,” I recounted.  “If I lose control again, can you stop me?”

For a moment, that anxiety vanished completely, and I saw a glimmer of what Dragoon saw.  Just like I hid a monster beneath my skin, Infinite had her own monster pushed down and suppressed.  Instead of the eyes of a nervous young woman, I saw the eyes of a hardened and cold-blooded killer. I saw the eyes of someone who would do whatever it took, no matter the consequences.  I saw someone who would not, and could not, be stopped.  

“Nine powers.  That’s all it’d take.” she answered.  As soon as she had said that, that look of malice vanished, replaced by the demure demeanor that I was used to seeing.  “But, I mean, I’d rather not. Using that many can get a bit dangerous.”

“Because it would make you lose control?”

She bristled but didn’t deny it.  “You… you don’t know what it’s like.”

“I lost control and ate nearly four hundred people alive.  God knows how many I buried in rubble thanks to me rampaging around!  I think that of all people I-”

“No, Eldritch, you don’t,” Infinite snapped.  “You have no fucking clue. You have no fucking idea what it feels like!”  She took in a deep breath of air, trying to calm herself. “I heard that Lightshow was unlucky enough to Alter.  Talk to her if you want a fucking clue about what losing control is really like.”

As angry as she was, it wasn’t hostility that I heard.  Her voice cracked like someone who had been kicked down one too many times.  She sounded like my mom had the few times she allowed me to see her being truly vulnerable.  “…yeah,” I finally answered.  

“It isn’t something that goes away,” Infinite said, looking way beyond this room.  “That feeling of it being wrong, being misshapen, that doesn’t go away. Adaptations feel normal, like an extension of you.  Even yours I’d guess. But Alterations…those are fucking monstrous. They remind you that you’re broken. They remind you of every little awful thing that made it happen.”  She got off the floor and dusted herself off, “Don’t pretend you know what I feel like. You don’t know and, if you’re lucky, you never will.”  

I took a moment, letting her get enough of a headstart that I wouldn’t run into her on my way back down.  It hadn’t been all that long, but I needed to see a familiar face. Seeing that look in Infinite’s eye, hearing that shake in her voice and the rage and pain that came with it, it was all so unsettling.  I was reminded that others had paid a much steeper cost than I had for power.  

If the power she wielded was of any indication, Infinite must have paid dearly.  

As I walked back down towards Organelle’s impromptu clinic, I was surprised to see someone else waiting outside.  

Still clad in a black coat and black jeans with short brown hair, Titan loitered impatiently.  Just like the rest of us, he couldn’t stand being too still with nothing going on. Patience was a strong suit for none of us.  In some ways, it was nice to see him with some vulnerability, that he had some normal ticks like everyone else. Interface might be right about him being human like the rest of us. 

It didn’t take him long to notice that he was being watched.  

“Eldritch.”

“Hey, Titan,” I greeted, awkward.  He was the closest thing to a celebrity we had in our midst, and he was intimidating in a way that the other two of the Prime Trio weren’t.  They were probably more powerful than him, but he had a certain presence about him that neither of them had. Forest was just overbearing and scary like some kind of rabid dog on a leash.  Infinite held the promise of danger, like a loaded gun, but she was too demure and meek to really scare you. Titan though, was like a master boxer. He knew exactly what game he played and it was hard to not feel out of your league once he had his  sights on you.  

“I understand that Forest and Infinite gave you a bit of an overzealous warning.”

“It’s a bit weird being warned for something that I wasn’t told about.”

He nodded.  “Yeah, they jumped the gun a little.  I meant to tell you about my idea before Forest began threatening you regarding keeping your ass under control.”

I took a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever answer he might give me.  “How many people are you expecting me to consume?”

“Probably a third of their army,” he said at length.  “Enough that the Trillodan can’t easily stop you, and enough to be scary as shit and towering above everything else.  We need you to be that monster you were back in Ciel.”   

“Titan, those are innocent people,” I muttered.  “You’re asking me to eat hundreds if not thousands of innocent people.”

He let out a long sigh and then turned to face me.  “I know. And I wouldn’t ask you if I thought there was another way that we could manage it,” he confessed.  “I’m not thrilled at the prospect either. If Infinite has to intervene, it gets ugly for everyone. It’s a risk, but I am not about to let my family die because the Trillodan push people against us.”

“We should try-”

“Eldritch,” he snapped, catching me by surprise.  “People are going to die. Tons of them, with or without you doing a damn thing.  That is fucking inevitable. I know you’re young. I know you’re fledgling compared to a lot of people here.  But guess what, it doesn’t matter. We have a job to do. Bottom line, killing a mob of Ellayans to ensure our survival and continued fight against the Trillodan is worth it.” 

All I could hear was my captain making the call to leave Murphy behind.  It had been the right call, but it was like a dagger in the guts.

“At what point are we the monsters?  At what point are we worse than them?” I asked, unsure of where the words came from.

Titan raised an eyebrow.  “Eldritch, I saved you on Tso’got.  People wanted me to offer you to the Trillodan as a fucking peace offering.  I nearly got myself killed trying to carve you free of your runaway power.”

I held my tongue; all those statements were facts.  

He dropped his head into a hand, massaging his temples.  It dawned on me that he was exhausted. Just like us, Titan was on edge.  I was quickly wishing that Interface was wrong and that he was somehow better than the rest of us, that he was immune to the pressures and stressors we were all subject to.  “I’m not fond of the idea of being the scourge of a city, Eldritch. Believe me. I know that I’m manipulative and sly at times, but I’m trying to do what’s best for everyone.  The reality is that you are the perfect visual spectacle and you’re one that is built for this kind of engagement. Thousands of people literally become fuel for the beast and it makes everyone else second guess who is the bigger threat.”

“I don’t want to do this.  I don’t want to consume hundreds of terrified and otherwise innocent people,” I said, unsure how to better convey my message. 

Titan’s look narrowed.  “If it can save the lives of your friends, is it worth it?  If it’s what keeps us fighting against the Trillodan, is it worth it?  I want you to take a minute and really think about this, Eldritch. The Ellayans are going to have the Trillodan at their backs, driving them forward.  If they don’t march, they die. Simple as that. Soliloquy and Playlist, hell, even Infinite herself won’t be able to do enough to simply snuff out that panic.  It will be mass hysteria at its finest. But you,” he reached forward, jabbing a finger into my chest, “You terrorized a fucking city. You became a monument to fear and power the size of a fucking skyscraper.  You have a unique power to become a literal walking, talking, paragon of destruction. If the Ellayans have something else to be goddamn terrified of then Soliloquy, Playlist, and any other emotional manipulator in our group has a chance to seriously turn the tide.” 

He took a deep breath and put his hand on my shoulder, “Listen, I can’t make you do this.  And I won’t. The call is yours. If you embrace how monstrous you can be just think of how many you might save as a result.”  

“I-”

“Think it over,” he insisted, turning to walk back outside, “And whenever Organelle’s done with her, tell Dragoon we need to talk.” 

“Yeah, sure,” I said.  

My back hit the wall and I slumped down, rattled.  Titan had a point; there was no one who could do what I did.  The exception was Infinite, but with her mental instability I didn’t want her to be so hard to bring down.  Besides, she was capable of doing anything and Titan likely already had something else in mind for her.  

He was right.  I was equipped to do something that no one else could do. 

I could make a serious difference in the outcome of the conflict to come, I just needed to be able to stomach the fact that I would be killing hundreds in the process.  I had never been aggressively pragmatic, and this went against everything that was at the core of my beliefs. I had been a Reckoner. My friends and I had originally embraced our powers to try and help people, to fight crime and clean up Ciel.  

Fighting back against the Scoundrels, Suppression, Snatchers, and now the Trillodan had been easy.  They were villains. They were doing things that were morally reprehensible. I could be righteous fighting them because they were oppressors, they were bastards who stepped on others for their own ambitions.  It had been easy to hate them, to take up arms against them.  

But the Ellayans?  They were victims. They were collateral damage.  They had simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time.  This wasn’t black and white like all my conflict had been so far.  This was grey…and I wasn’t sure how to reconcile it.  

As much as Titan had a point that it was a small sacrifice for the greater good, I wasn’t sure if I could do it.  We weren’t the Trillodan. We weren’t mass murderers. We were doing this to free people from oppression, not subject them to it.  

But if I did nothing, how many Adapted paid for it?  How many of us fell because of my inaction? What if it caused our crusade to crumble and meant the Trillodan went unchecked?    

I put my head in my hands, fighting back tears as the walls seemed to press in around me.  “Murphy,” I said, wishing my best friend was here, “What am I supposed to do?” 

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

(Eldritch – 12/4/80)

No one really spoke, and no one had for hours it felt like.  The only bit of conversation we had was right after Distortion teleported the lot of us nearly four kilometers away.  It was only thanks to Zeal’s power that she hadn’t killed herself in the process. From there, it was just a matter of finding a set of wheels and getting the fuck out of NaMein.  That shitty city had taken enough from all of us; all of us were eager to be free of it.      

Now, we were all jammed together in a truck, quiet as a group of church mice.  Interface was passed out in the driver’s seat, operating the truck with an Adaptation as opposed to just driving like a normal person.  Lightshow was riding shotgun with her legs pulled to her chest, and she’d been that way for easily an hour. Menagerie had been sitting on Lightshow’s lap for a while but had let herself slink down to the floor by Lightshow’s feet to give herself room to draw for now.  In the backseat, I was pressed against Dragoon and Exchange and we were doing our best to not step on Adamant who we’d laid on the floor.  

In the bed of the truck, the members of Serpentine were all secured down against some pallets of wood so they didn’t bounce out and onto the road.  Gnaw and Dancer were still breathing, but just barely; thanks to Zeal’s power providing durability, they had managed to survive and we’d done a crude job stopping the bleeding via cauterization.  The head of Serpentine, Zeal, had lapsed into a heavy sleep after we’d managed to excise the Trillodan device that cut off nervous impulse; Warden had managed to cut into him right before it began ensnaring his spine.  Unfortunately, loaning power to so many others had Overexposed him. For now, he was out of commission and we had no idea for how long. 

   Trample was weakened from her own self-inflicted blood loss and Warden was fatigued, but neither was in such critical state like Gnaw or Dancer were fortunately.  Distortion was back with them, remaining unnaturally quiet. After Dragoon had torn the device off her neck, she had lost much of the control of her left side; her arrogant and bitchy demeanor had crumbled when Exchange had to help her hobble into a truck bed.  Our hope was that the real Organelle could help undo whatever damage Dragoon had inflicted in her haste. We had debated having Lightshow conjure the Adapted medic, but without Zeal to steady her, we dared not risk sending her into cardiac arrest again.  

Even though I wasn’t wounded or maimed like so many others, I felt a dull throb throughout my whole body.  It was like a constant gnawing, a reminder that I had watched Zellig pick up Murphy like he was some kind of reward.  

Every time my eyes closed, that image flashed to the front of my brain and shocked me awake.  We had been so close to overpowering Zellig, so close to beating down the Trillodan for once, and then it was snatched away from us.  It had only taken seconds for everything to crumble and break down. Zellig had suckered us into a fight that he knew he’d win; even though Interface had made it difficult for him to fight, the Trillodan commander had managed to isolate himself and be free of their influence.  

What wore at me was that I hadn’t done all I could.  

I hadn’t been able to develop a second mutation to become resistant to the electricity that Zellig was slinging around.  I hadn’t been able to grow enough to endure the blows from his tesla cannon. I hadn’t been able to make myself crystalline and nearly indestructible again.  It had been easy for him to rip me apart…again.  

And it meant I hadn’t been able to save Murphy.  It meant I watched as we were forced to abandon my best friend in the world.  

Part of me wanted to hate Dragoon, wanted to scream and bite and kick at her because we should have done more.   But, the rational part of me knew that she was right to get us out of there. We’d lost. Again. Fighting was only going to make it worse. 

But, looking at her now, she felt the same way.  She was doubting herself, wondering if there wasn’t more we could have done.  If she was right to make that call.  

“It still doesn’t feel real,” I said.

“No,” she agreed. 

“Do you think we’ll be able to find him?  To rescue him?” 

Alexis shook her head, “I don’t think so.  Not if we’re being real. They brought a massive ship here; Murphy’s on his way there if not already up in captivity.  The only saving grace is we know they won’t torture him.”  

My gaze went to Lightshow; her Alteration likely made the Trillodan forces nervous.  She had gone from someone negligible to the most damning and dangerous multi-purpose tool among us.  She could conjure anyone which allowed her to do just about anything. Hell, she had conjured Titan. It was probably what prompted Zellig himself to attack us.  

He wasn’t going to let himself lose his precious elite soldiers due to one weird outlier.  He would see the problem dealt with himself. Instead of dealing with Lightshow though, Zellig kept his guaranteed prize.  I half wonder if he planned to sucker us back in by using our best friend as bait.  

It was for the best that Alexis could be cold and pragmatic; if I were in charge I would have gotten myself captured alongside him.  

“We have to try and find him,” I whispered, not wanting to accept reality.  “If they aren’t torturing him, then that means-“

“Nick,” Alexis said, “He’s gone.”

It felt like a kick to the sternum to hear her say it so bluntly.  “How is your arm doing?” 

She gently massaged the discolored and limp arm, wincing at the touch.  “It’s a mess. I’m going to need Organelle to sort it out for me. Hopefully there won’t be too many lasting effects of it being jerked around and bounced around while broken.”  Alexis laid her head back, “What a fucking day.”

“It might not even be over,” Menagerie said from the floor, “Who knows if the Trillodan are tracking us as we drive.” 

“Doubt it,” a voice replied through the truck’s radio.  “If they were tracking us, we’d already have been caught.  Zellig wouldn’t let us go. If they can track us, I’m sure they can find anyone else.  No reason to let us get close to other people and group up.”  

“Well, small miracles,” Alexis muttered.  “At least something will go right today. Interface, how much farther can you take us before you need more gasoline?”

“Another two hours,” the radio replied, “Then I’ll need Lightshow to conjure Chemtrail or someone else who can make gasoline.”

There was a small nod from Lightshow and Dragoon didn’t push it.  She felt just as guilty as we did about losing Murphy, especially since he was the one who refused to quit on her when her heart stopped.  

“I kind of assumed we’d live through this as a team,” I said.  “We’d stood up to Beleth and Shockwave and managed to avoid dying.”  

“Me too,” Alexis agreed.  “But, the Trillodan, they’re something else entirely. Zellig is something else entirely.”

I didn’t have any kind of satisfying response to that.  She was right: we were so far out of our element.    

“On Tso’got,” Interface said, “We had a lot of surprises to pull out, and a lot of framework set up.  Titan planned for years and worked pretty quietly to gather people to his cause. That was why we managed to escape so easily.  But now, we’re all out of our comfort zone. We don’t have that kind of control or set up.” 

  “And that’s why we’re losing,” Lightshow whispered.  

“We’re not-“

“Drag, stop. Mutant and Parasite, in a single fucking day!  And what kind of damage have we done?  We claimed a couple limbs?” Lightshow snapped, “Be honest.  We sure as fuck aren’t winning.”  

To my surprise, our captain didn’t have a reply.  Alexis didn’t have a reason that Lightshow was wrong.  She didn’t have a pragmatic answer to quiet Lightshow’s frustration.  After enduring every obstacle and pushing us through the most hellish nightmare, my friend was finally out of stamina, out of drive to keep pushing.  Dragoon, Alexis Trent, my friend and captain, was done being the relentless and driving voice that kept us all motivated.  

In some ways, she’d lost the most.  The rest of us lost a friend but Alexis lost her friend and lost her own skin.  She’s put blood and effort into making that suit, and Jai had turned it to a puddle of slag with a single bullet.  The only part she had managed to salvage was her railgun. Without her suit to power the thing it was just a fancy paperweight.  She had also sustained some of the worst injuries, and she didn’t have a way to heal. Beyond the arm being shattered, she’d had several holes punched in her by Zellig’s lieutenant, Tol.  Dragoon was likely fighting infection, fatigue, excruciating pain, and grief all at the same time.  

That she hadn’t caved before now was impressive.  

“You have us at least,” Exchange croaked, his throat still raw thanks to whatever Jai had thrown in his face.  “You lost two but gained three.”  

“And Serpentine went even in terms of gained and lost,” Interface said. 

“Still not a great record,” Lightshow grumbled.

“At least I did some damage to Jai,” Exchange said.  Forever the optimist, I was a bit glad we had Exchange riding with us.  He was still wildly uncomfortable with the two members of Stampede and insisted that he’d rather stay next to Adamant.  While the hero worship wasn’t healthy, we were all too exhausted to argue. But his relentlessly positive demeanor was a good foil to Lightshow.  “No matter how you twist it, I felt things break under his armor.”

“It’s just a shame we didn’t kill him,” Dragoon groaned, “He’s a big fucking nuisance for us.  It’s like he was made to be disruptive.” 

  “They’re all nasty in their own way,” I said, “But I don’t think he’d be any better to deal with than Tol or Kalr.” 

She shrugged.  “Maybe. I don’t know.  Either way, I don’t want to fight someone who can liquidate my suit with a single bullet.  I’d rather have Tol punch me full of holes again instead. At least that won’t take me days to rebuild.  Now I’m fucking useless in a fight and I’m vulnerable.  Just terrific.”  

“Speaking of useless and vulnerable,” I said, “What do we do about the guy on the floor?  I don’t think Adamant would like any of us trying to operate on his spine.” While we had gotten the Trillodan spinal-snare out of Distortion and Zeal, Adamant was still paralyzed thanks to that insidious little contraption.  But, in the aftermath of what happened to Distortion, we had held off on possibly paralyzing Adamant.   

“We take him to Infinite,” the car replied, “Organelle could probably play doctor well enough to get it out, but she’s not a surgeon and if we can avoid nerve damage, we should.  Infinite can probably make some power combination to melt the stuff away.”

“Couldn’t you possess the thing?” Menagerie asked.

“Maybe.  But things are easiest to control when I know their function.  Piloting machines isn’t like walking around, I have to know what I’m doing at least to some degree; if I take control and try to move the wrong direction, I dig those cords deeper into his spine and God knows what kind of damage I end up doing.”  Interface filled the void when no one kept talking. “You know, you guys can get some sleep. I’m not going to pass out at the wheel or anything; I don’t need to sleep when I’m controlling something.” 

“Thanks, but I don’t really want to close my eyes anymore,” I said.  

“Same,” Dragoon echoed.

Exchange was arguably the smartest person in the cab and began lightly snoring a moment later.  Not too long afterward, Menagerie’s head dropped forward and rested next to Lightshow’s thigh.  

“I’m sorry,” Lightshow said after a while.  

Dragoon shook her head.  “I know. It’s okay.”  

“I just… I just wish I had managed to do more, you know?” she said.  “I just wish that I’d been stronger. I wish I could have pushed myself a little bit farther.  I wish we could have done something for him.”  

I knew that Lightshow was talking about herself, but I felt like those words were pointed at me.  I was fucking Eldritch, the unstoppable monster who was responsible for Feast Day. I was the only person who had stood up to Titan and Forest and lived to talk about it.  I was supposed to be this colossus, this unstoppable wall of muscle…and I had done shit all. Gnaw and Dancer had killed or injured probably ten soldiers without me. I’d managed to kill half a dozen of them and then ended up bulldozed by that weapon that Zellig had.  

What fucking good was I?

I reached back into my mind, digging for the monster under my skin, knowing full well that Eldritch was there.  I turned my frustration towards it, prompting it to move, to answer for itself and let me know why the fuck it hadn’t dug deeper into that well of power I knew existed.  

I screamed internally, demanding to know why the hell we’d held back.  

Because we weren’t going to die there.  

I sank my teeth into my lip to avoid screaming out loud.  How could that possibly be justification? How could letting my friend be a viable option?  

We preserve the host.  We ensure that you survive and fight.  What happened with the crystalline structure was out of desperation.  It was foreign, painful, something else that we don’t want to experience.  We did it because you put both of us at risk.  Your friend’s well-being isn’t our concern, it’s yours.  We are the passenger, you are the host. We do what is necessary for you.

If there was no one around, I would have cussed out loud Eldritch.  I would have vocally condemned it for being so selfish and stingy. But, it was a Neklim.  It was a predatory animal that was used to fending for itself. The best I could do was shout internally that my friend’s survival is paramount.  Without them, we would die, no matter how big we managed to get.

I got the sense that Eldritch was bristling at the idea of needing to give a shit about anyone, but I didn’t care.  I was done being influenced by something that was mine to control. The swirling mass of black tendrils was right: I was the host.  It did not exist without my say so. Eldritch starved without me.  

Eldritch was mine to wield, mine to control.  

“You think Titan knew any of this shit was going to happen when he started planning?” Lightshow asked.  “Do you think he knew what kind of resistance the Trillodan would bring or how huge this would all end up being?” 

“Doubt it,” Interface said.  “Most of his plan involved getting Adapted together on Tso’got and getting people all drawn to a common banner.  I think he was expecting to have another month or two to squeeze information out of Big Picture and Clairvoyant before any kind of war started happening.  I think he’s flying blind, just like the rest of us.”

Dragoon glanced at the limp body in the driver’s seat, “Interface, do you think that devoting yourself to Titan’s cause was worth it?” 

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed her question.  Interface was quick witted and always able to throw out a reply, but this had confounded her.  “A long time ago,” they finally said, “I remember him talking about timelines. I remember him saying that eventually this was going to happen.  We were too hot a commodity, too unique a novelty for the Trillodan to ignore us forever. All it would take is one spectacular fight and it would finally pique their interest.”  

“Is that something Clairvoyant saw?” 

“Different versions,” Interface answered.  “Clairvoyant always saw them coming, but as to what prompted their arrival varied dramatically.  A fight between Psycho and Beleth, a massive clash between Serpentine and Black Mass, or several different people being Altered.  For a long time Titan was terrified because the most common vision was Infinite wiping out a swath of a city again.” 

“Again?” I asked, “What do you mean again?” 

I had no idea that a pick-up could sigh up until that point.  “Infinite, when she Altered, killed a hundred and thirty-five people in fifteen seconds.  Dragoon was almost a victim of the same kind of phenomenon.”

“That black mist,” Dragoon whispered, aghast, “What-”

“When she Altered, she flooded a whole block with the stuff.  The whole surrounding area was quarantined because people assumed it was some kind of biological attack.  As powerful as Infinite is, she’s unstable. If she loses control, she kills everything around her like some kind of nervous response.  Whatever that shit is, it basically causes organs to fail. For a long time, Clairvoyant saw Infinite wiping out a big chunk of some city–we were guessing Manda.” 

“Instead you got me,” I said.

“Instead you were the trigger,” Interface agreed.  “About the time you guys started fighting so brazenly with Imperium, Clairvoyant started seeing you in her visions.”

“And no one stopped me.  Why didn’t Titan do anything to stop me if I was such a threat?”

“Because he was tending to Infinite,” Dragoon realized.  “That’s why it took him and Forest so long to show up on Feast Day, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” Interface replied.  “Clairvoyant saw three visions of you and three of Infinite.  Titan gambled and went to Infinite, knowing full well that if she went off the reservation she could kill an entire city on her own.” 

“Instead he let me eat all of downtown,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.  “Why didn’t he tell me? Why wasn’t there any warning? Why didn’t he get involved earlier?” 

“Titan never interfered with our lives,” Alexis said, “It’s part of why we liked him.  He never foisted himself on others. He wasn’t going to change your life forever on a possibility.”  

“What good would knowing do?” Interface asked.  “Would it be better if Infinite had been the one to kill people instead of you?” 

“Yes!  No? I don’t know!” I said, exasperated.  “I just…I wish we didn’t always seem in the dark.  As much as I don’t trust him, I think Zeal had a point: Titan doesn’t give us the whole picture.  He never lets us know everything.”  

“Probably intentionally,” Dragoon said.  “If we all know everything and someone gets caught, the Trillodan have access to that information.  If the vision Rebecca had is true, then the Trillodan can literally extract memories from us.”  

Lightshow rubbed  her stump, “I believe that weird alien personally.  And hopefully, unlike Titan, he provides us with some answers when we finally get to meet.”  

There was admittedly a little bit of jealousy on my part since they got to have premonitions and engagements with the person who was responsible for creating us.  I wanted to get some kind of insight into what the hell we were, and why my power was so different compared to everyone else. Why was there a divide between ‘Eldritch’ and the real me?  Why had that divide even come into being?  

“Nick,” Alexis said softly, “I know I shouldn’t ask but-”

“You’re afraid of me losing control again,” I acknowledge.  “No. I don’t have anything to burn anyways.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing,” Lightshow said, “All we have to do is point him at the Trillodan and let the monster do its thing.  Maybe we should have you just fly off the fucking handle, except this time we help you, not hinder you.”  

“Everytime we up the ante with the Trillodan, they raise the bar too,” Alexis replied, “I don’t know that repeating Feast Day will go so well for anyone.  Sure, he’d kill a whole lot of stuff, but what would they do in response? Call down some kind of artillery strike from orbit?”   

“When Zellig and his cronies attacked the ship in orbit, Guardian could only take about three hits from the Trillodan artillery before blacking out,” Interface said, “And I get the sense that if they wanted to do more damage, the Crimson City that Zellig and his murderous crew came in on can probably do more.  I hate to be the voice of restraint, but even if they can’t bring Eldritch down, they can simply enact Protocol 37.”  

No matter how big a weapon we had, they had one bigger.  Even if Infinite or I went completely berserk, Zellig had an answer.  

“Worrying about it isn’t going to help anyone,” Alexis said, letting out a yawn.  “We’ll figure something out later.” She leaned forward, resting her head against my shoulder; she was asleep in a few seconds, injury and fatigue finally too much for her to simply push aside and ignore.  Part of me was a little uncomfortable with her leaning against me, but I didn’t bother disturbing her. Our weird romantic entanglement was way down the list of priorities.  

Another slow and steady breathing signified Lightshow finally passing out.  I felt a little awkward being alone with Interface, but I wasn’t as tired as everyone else; unlike them, my Adaptation didn’t leave me drained.  I was still too hopped up on adrenaline to sleep. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for your friend,” Interface said.  “I really did try.”

“I know.  We all did.  We just…we were never going to win.  I think the only way we could have beat Zellig is with me being way bigger, or with Adamant on his feet.  But, Zellig planned around us. And we’re just out of our element. This is what they do, right?” 

“I guess so.”

The silence that followed was almost painful.  “So,” I said, reaching for anything to fill the void, “How did you Adapt?” 

“Weirdly personal and out of left field,” Interface replied.

“Dude, I’m just-”

“You’re going to assign a male gender pronoun to me now?” Interface harped.  

I felt my cheeks turn red.  “Sorry.”

Hearing a car chuckle was odd.  “Don’t worry, I’m just fucking with you, Eldritch.”

“But speaking of pronoun-”

“Depends on the day,” Interface replied.  “Some days I’m a guy. Some days, a girl. And some days, I have no fucking clue.  It’s like I wake up in a different skin every morning.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” Interface said.  “Eventually, I quit giving a shit.  Trying to fit into boxes someone else made was just too time consuming.  I’m just Interface now. Or Jamie if we’re close.” They paused for a minute, “Part of the reason I dedicated myself to Titan’s cause, he got it.  Tso’got was not the most friendly for any kind of queer person; Titan didn’t give a shit. That was refreshing. Years of spending so long exhausting myself being someone I’m not and then along comes this guy who didn’t give a fuck one way or the other.”  

“He just cared about you being you.  He didn’t care about all your weird baggage,” I said, relating immediately.  “After Feast Day, everyone looked at me like I was a monster. The only people who didn’t were Murphy and Alexis, but they’re my best friends.  They were going to have my back. But Geyser, Lightshow, Mutant, even Menagerie, they all looked at me like I was a monster. And then, Titan just walked in, and told everyone else that I was cool.”

I had never seriously thought about how much that meant to me.  For someone to be so radically accepting even though I had nearly killed him.  I was the first person who had nearly killed Titan, as far as I knew, and he didn’t care. 

“I think that’s what makes Titan so powerful…” Interface said, alarmingly somber, “It isn’t his actual Adaptation.  But, even though he’s so powerful, he still gets it. He totally understands how we feel. He knows what it’s like to be rejected, to feel beaten up, to feel broken.  But, he knows how to rise above it all too. He knows how to reach out and incorporate others. Instead of just being content with a little clique like everyone else, he dared to ask what would happen if we all fought together.”  

I thought about how I thought the girl sleeping on my shoulder had been too ambitious when we started out as Reckoners.  Back then, I thought it was a wild idea to stand up to Imperium or Surface Dwellers. I thought she had been crazy for getting us involved in those fights.  But, Interface was right: Dragoon’s line of thinking hadn’t expanded beyond our own clique. We were fighting for our little city. That was it.    

Rogue Sentries had dared to dream about cleansing a city.  Titan had dared to dream about cleansing the cosmos.  

“I wish he didn’t leave us in the dark so much,” I said at length.  “I hate feeling so left out of things.”  

“He can be bad about that,” Interface admitted, “I mean, he is Adapted like  the rest of us. Even for as ambitious and clever as he is, he has trust issues and quirks.  Even though he’s well adjusted and mature, there’s still plenty wrong in his head.”  

“Weird to think about.  He seems so…perfect almost when you talk to him.” 

“Gang leaders know how to look intimidating and in control constantly.  Titan taught himself to always look composed. It made him a lot more approachable because he seemed confident but not hostile.”

“Never would have thought about the distinction,” I said, “Why have you spent so much time thinking about this sort of thing?”

 “I’ve been working with Titan ever since I adapted at sixteen.  I was a runaway, and, well, I spent a lot of time hanging on his every word.  After a while, I started asking why I was doing it.”

“Do you think he can pull it off?”

Interface thought about it for a while.  “I think if anyone can, he can. But, we’ll see.”  

“I hope he can,” I said softly, “Because if he can’t…”

“Yeah.” 

Interface didn’t add anything, both of us content to simply sit there in silence.  On the edge of the horizon daylight started creeping over, slowly ushering in a new day.  

Our first day on Vuuldar had cost us two of our teammates.  It had cost Lightshow an arm, left Dragoon battered, and crippled several of our new Adapted comrades.  The day had cost us our escape plan and any real hope that we were ahead of the Trillodan. It had brought us face to face with our nemesis once again, and once again Eldritch and I had felt powerless against the Trillodan commander.    

What was scariest was that I didn’t know if today would be worse.  

I wasn’t sure how long I stared out the window until I started to slump forward, resting my head against the  glass, eventually fading out.  

All I saw was a nightmare: Zellig was holding my best friend up like some prize.  Eldritch and I reached out, a massive tentacled limb stretching, and never quite able to reach my friend.  We kept sliding away, screaming and begging for Murphy to wake up, for Dragoon to tell us to fight, to do anything. 

Instead, we saw him get ripped away again.

I sat bolt upright, my heart hammering as I slammed a  hand against the back of the driver’s seat, remembering where the hell I was.  There was no more Zellig for now, it had just been a flashback, a distorted memory, a nightmare.  That was all. I was in an overstuffed truck driving towards Titan and his inner circle of Adapted.  The sun was much higher in the sky meaning I had actually managed to get some sleep, restless as it might have been.    

Lightshow turned and gave me a nervous glance.  “You okay?” 

Looking out the windshield, I saw what looked like the outskirts of another sprawling city, much like NaMein. “Not really,” I answered, “But I will be.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Interface’s voice crackled through the speakers, “Over the water, to our right.  Way off in the distance.”  

“What the-” Lightshow whispered.  Below her, Menagerie poked her head up to take a look.  

“Oh, shit,” Menagerie said.  “That’s a lot of them.”  

“Uh-huh,” Interface agreed, “It doesn’t bode well.”

“What are you guys-” I started, interrupting myself when I finally saw what they were zeroing in on.  Around the bay, there was a small fleet of ships flying around, and droves of aquatic vehicles were arriving on the beaches to greet them.  “ Oh fuck.”  

The Trillodan’s next move was going to take their Sycophants a step further.  Instead of handing out guns and giving general instructions, the Trillodan were going to make them into a proper militia.  

Zellig’s next test was our conviction.  Could we stomach killing thousands of innocent people, or would we crumble? 

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

I’d been in the presence of monsters.  I’d come face to face with killers of all shapes and sizes before.

Back on Tso’got, we’d fought with some of the biggest names in the Adapted industry.  We’d fought against Beleth and his gang of fiends. I’d been integral in helping Psycho eliminate one of the most nefarious domestic terrorists, Rat.  I watched Eldritch lose control and consume entire chunks of Ciel during Feast Day. I’d encountered several of the Trillodan elite and been inches from death numerous times in the last day.  I had felt my heart stop and watched my friend work fiercely to keep me breathing. 

None of that compared to the terror I felt when I looked at Zellig.  

He wasn’t some aimless monster or some local criminal.  He wasn’t a blind follower to a cause or devotee.  

Zellig was the cause.  

He was where those Trillodan psychopaths drew their inspiration and it wasn’t hard to see why.  He was staring down a dozen Adapted and he knew what most of us were capable of. He wasn’t confident to the point of being foolish either; he’d gotten rid of Adamant right off the bat.  Zellig knew that if Adamant got to dictate terms, he was unbeatable; when denied that opportunity, Adamant was just a bag of bones like the rest of us.  

Zellig knew exactly how strong he was and exactly where his shortcomings were.  He had ripped Eldritch out of his Neklim suit, he’d beaten Goliath half to death, and Zellig had fought Clemency while at the pinnacle of his power.  Zellig had fought bigger threats than we had with us, and he’d triumphed. And now we were weakened, crippled, and fatigued thanks to the relentless pace of the day.  Without Distortion, we had no quick getaway plan; Zellig must have learned from the demolitionist about her ability to teleport swaths of area and multiple people around.  Without her, we were forced to stay nearby, forced to play whatever sick game he wanted.  

“Why didn’t he tranquilize all of us?” Menagerie asked, confused.  

“He wants us to fight, but not to kill ourselves,” Dragoon whispered, answering her question.  “If he knocks out half of us, the others Overexpose.” She glared back at the Trillodan commander who was waiting patiently, enjoying the calm before the impending storm, “He’s not making it unwinnable, but he’s making it close enough that we can gamble on it.”  

“He won’t pick a fight he can’t win,” Eldritch muttered, already beginning to manifest his Neklim suit.  “You know that Drag.”    

“We can’t run,” Dragoon replied, “And we don’t have a perfect champion in Adamant.”  Her gaze went to Parasite, “But, I think you might do.”

“Me?” Parasite said, mystified.  “Why me?” 

“Your gift is dependent on your own physical strength.  Zeal’s gift multiplies it. It’s a match made in heaven.  Besides,” Dragoon added, “You’ve trained hard enough that your ability to fight is muscle memory.  As crazy as Zeal makes you, you won’t get sloppy.”      

“Why is he waiting?” Zeal asked, looking past Dragoon. “Why isn’t he rushing us?” 

“Because he has backup,” Trample replied, pressing her hand to the ground, “Footsteps.  Marching. Soldiers,” she concluded. “He’s letting them get into position before he fights.”  

Dragoon turned to Interface, “You were never recorded, were you?  Back on Tso’got?”

Interface shook their head.  “No. Titan kept me under wraps.”  

“Then you’re our ace in the hole, because he doesn’t know what you do.”  Dragoon faced Zellig who was looking interested. He had heightened senses and could hear us, but nothing we had said alarmed him.  I could tell he was thrilled we had figured out his game, and the fact that Dragoon believed we were able to fight.  

“Tol and Salah didn’t do your intelligence justice, Alexis,” Zellig commended as he waited patiently, “You truly do have quite the mind for this.  And in someone so young, you would grow to be quite the pain if Titan had let you mature.” 

Dragoon stiffened, perturbed that Zellig knew who she was.  “Interface, get ready. Zeal, give power to Gnaw, Dancer, and a big dose to Parasite.  Small dose to Lightshow and Menagerie. Enough for them to use their Adaptations,” Dragoon instructed.  

I debated correcting her and reminding her that I was no longer technically an Adapted; I figured now wasn’t the best time.  Still, I had reservations. “Are you sure you want to give me a power that makes me crazy?” 

“We don’t have a choice,” she replied as Zeal pressed a hand against Parasite.  “For now, we have to use the tools given to us.” She gave a glance to Parasite, “You ready?”

The Enhancer turned to her, his signature grin turned into a manic smile that belonged on someone confined to an asylum.  Any trace of Parasite was washed away; Zeal’s power had entirely overwritten his personality. 

If she felt concern for her friend and his eroded sanity, Dragoon did a fantastic job hiding it.  “Parasite, kill Zellig.”  

The only thing that Parasite seemed to retain was his fierce determination to his captain and friend; as soon as she had uttered the command, he bolted towards Zellig like a rabid dog.  Despite how much power Zeal had lent him, his movements were still crisp, refined, composed even. The Trillodan commander wasn’t overwhelmed, but his attention was suddenly drawn away from the rest of us.  As inflappable as he was, Zellig was driven back a pace by Parasite’s ferocity.  

Parasite said he could throw four serious hits per second.  Thanks to Zeal, he was probably throwing six times that many, and each one was leaving a small dent in Zellig’s torso.  Even though everyone claimed that Zellig was built to win a war of attrition, I had to wonder how many blows from Parasite he could take before the Trillodan commander sustained serious injury.  

“Gnaw, Dancer,” Dragoon directed, pointing to the far corner of the schoolyard, “Deal with the infantry!  Exchange, help Parasite!” As fast as Gnaw and Dancer were with Zeal’s power, the small battalion of Trillodan regulars were here ahead of time and taking aim.  To our surprise, a massive wall of metal rapidly constructed itself between the incoming barrage of lasers and the two members of Serpentine. Behind us, Warden grunted with exertion and gave a weak smile.  

“Hard to project stuff outward.  Close by is where I’m best.” 

Dragoon nodded, “Good, stay by us then.  If things start getting hairy, you’re our first line of defense.  Eldritch, how long do you need?” 

“Another minute,” came the creepy hiss of a reply as layers of tendrils overlapped and expanded, already making him a foot taller. 

I had a moment of apprehension as Zeal pressed a hand against my arm, and then all reservations vanished.  All my inhibitions, all my worries faded; where there had been insecurity, there was frenetic energy and wild disdain.  My hate for the Trillodan had been magnified and care for my own person diminished. Violence suddenly became the answer to all of my problems, and there was no one more capable of bringing violence to the table better-  

“Lightshow,” Dragoon snapped, “Organelle.  We need her.” Even though no emotion shown due to her helmet, I knew she was scrutinizing me.  Dragoon wanted to make sure I wasn’t about to do anything brash.    

I was trying to push through a fog, having to force aside mental clutter to follow her instructions.  Zeal’s power, the maddening urge to fight and sate my bloodlust, was at war with my rational mind. I knew that I needed to listen to my captain, that I needed to heed her instruction but I wanted to lash out.  I wanted to repay them for taking off my arm. I wanted to make them regret making me Alter. I wanted to make them bleed for taking Mutant from me. I wanted to see the life drain from their eyes. I wanted to see that terror that I had witnessed in Kalr’s eyes when half her body was melted away.    

It took a moment, but my dedication to Dragoon won out and I began sifting through the memories I had of Organelle.  

“Interface,” Dragoon said, “Do it.”  

The Projector nodded, sitting down before their eyes rolled back.  

Across the yard, Zellig had found his rhythm and was countering nearly every single attack that Parasite could deliver, even with the boost from Zeal.  Even though he wasn’t striking back yet, it was clear he was learning Parasite’s pattern of attack. Just as Parasite had watched Zeal in their duel, Zellig was gauging his opponent and waiting for his opening.  

But once Interface flopped backwards, Zellig stumbled, disrupted by some invisible force.  Rebelling against its owner, one of Zellig’s arms twisted itself out of socket. Before he could react, one leg stepped wildly to the side and left his guard wide open for Parasite to land a dozen blows.  Zellig attempted to reach forward, but the hand turned away from Parasite, refusing to comply. The Trillodan commander turned towards us, realizing how foolish he’d been for leaving Interface able to act.  

Parasite was right about them being arrogant.    

Despite his confidence moments ago, Zellig was worried.  Every attempt at a counterattack was met with his body fighting back; Zellig growled and roared in frustration as Parasite ran in and out, a blur of motion and manic energy.  To add insult to injury, Exchange sprinted in and joined the fray, binding himself to the massive steel wall that Warden had created. As resolute as Zellig was, he was enduring a heap of abuse that he had clearly not prepared himself for.  He tried to pull himself away and bolt for the cube of metal, but Interface had his legs twist and direct him the wrong direction, denying him whatever hellish weapon was contained within.    

As I found the right memory for Organelle, Zellig cried out, “Jai, NOW!” 

Dragoon tracked Zellig’s gaze, raising her right arm to direct our attention.  On a rooftop across the way was a figure with a literal cloak draped about him.  The glimpse I got of his helmet showed a massive green ring in the center.  

“Exchange, deal with him!” Dragoon ordered. 

“Got it!”  The overeager blonde darted away, quickly giving chase to the shrouded figure.  Zellig’s operative leapt down from the building and rolled, rising to his feet with a jet black pistol in hand; Exchange was saved only by his instincts as Jai fired what looked like a silver dart.  

Trample had composed a few beasts that had caused discord among the regular foot soldiers, but the gun shot got the Druid’s attention; Trample deemed that Gnaw and Dancer had the infantry under control and turned her attention to Jai.  Using a small switchblade she’d kept in a pocket, she made a small incision across her palm and forced out a few drops of blood. As soon as they touched the ground, the blood blossomed into a crystalline spire and exploded outward, assuming the form of a stag beetle that was the size of a small car.  Trample pointed and her monstrosity charged forward.  

Jai reached to his waist and fished out a different pistol; a single round was fired and the beetle stumbled and collapsed.  Across it’s carapace, sickly green cracks began spreading. It was the same thing we had seen done to all those poor people. In seconds, Trample’s beetle turned into one of those oozes and headed our way.  One more casualty from that freak’s horrific arsenal. How many more people would we see turned into ooze? I wondered how satisfying it would be to turn that technology on him, to dissolve him in to a puddle.       

“Menagerie, those things hate heat,” Dragoon said.  

Our Peculiar artist needed no further prompts.  She flipped through a notebook and ripped a few pages out, conjuring a pair of what looked like lions who had substituted fur for smoldering embers.  Instead of a mane, there was a wreath of blue fire that had a life of its own. Menagerie looked towards the slime and her fiery cats leapt into action, each releasing a torrent of flame as soon as they were within range.  

It was hard for me to focus with everything happening.  Trying to concentrate was hard enough with Zeal’s power pulling my mind in two different directions.  With the world going to shit around me, I was slow to find the right resonance for Organelle. She was not a re-creation I wanted to fuck up; she manipulated cellular functions and organic processes.  If I botched her power who knew what horrific shit I’d end up doing to Distortion and Adamant?  

Slowly but surely, I pieced together the right frequency and began letting the threads of light weave together. A few precious seconds later and I had created a faithful duplicate of everyone’s favorite caretaker.  

The construct gave me a look as if to ask for instructions.  

“Right,” I muttered, caught off guard by how angry I sounded.  “Figure out what’s wrong with them.” The duplicate nodded and knelt beside Distortion, running a hand over her slowly like she was running a small CAT scan.  

Beside me, Trample snarled as a third one of her constructs was turned into an ooze by Jai.  Still, she added another incision on her arm, as if somehow she would win this war of attrition.  Jai found himself struggling with Exchange. The blonde teenager had clearly taken our words to heart and wanted to prove that he could get better, that he could offer more to the group in a fight.  Jai tried to take aim but Exchange slapped aside the barrel this time, sending the dart from the pistol into the ground.

Jai swung, a blade extending from a cuff; Exchange evaded and sprinted forward, driving a fist straight into the operative’s chest.  Jai went for his belt to grab some kind of canister, but Exchange smacked it away and drove a fist into his side. Before Jai could respond, Exchange hit him in the head hard enough to break his helmet.  Jai fell to the side and the Enhancer chased after him, picking up an incredible amount of speed. Jai endured a kick to the ribs, but he managed to snag a canister from his belt this time; it exploded and  Exchange took a full dose of the inhalant. As Jai pulled himself up to his feet, Exchange sank to his knees, coughing and clawing at his throat. Still, Exchange had the presence of mind to throw himself clear as the Trillodan took aim with his handgun.  Jai took aim a second time, but Warden was quick to construct a wall between the two.    

I did not want to see any of my teammates turned into a slime, no matter how recent an addition they were.  I couldn’t imagine how much more rage would build as a result. I reminded myself to say thank you to Warden later.      

“Something has her paralyzed,” my Organelle copy said, her voice  strangely robotic. “Something is keeping them from waking up. Like something literally shut off her brain.” It was strange to hear my construct talk, like it had a mind of its own.  Though, how else was it supposed to relay information?  

“What is it?”

My construct blinked twice and looked back down at the bodies, “I don’t know.  It isn’t a poison, I know that much.”

“Figure out,” Dragoon said, not taking her eyes off the scene, watching Parasite in particular.  It was her childhood friend…and I could feel how angry she was not being able to help. It was good that Zeal hadn’t dosed her with his power, otherwise she’d have tried to fight despite her numerous injuries.    

Just from reputation, I knew that Zellig was a pro.  Combat was his art form, and he had been training his hand at this longer than all of us put together; with Interface crippling him, he looked out of his element, especially compared to Parasite.  Warden was helping as best he could, conjuring chains and snaring Zellig as best he could to create openings for our friend to batter that grey and leathery hide. Beside me, Menagerie glared at the Trillodan commander and ripped another page out of her notebook.  

For a moment, I forgot the rage and building animosity that Zeal had bestowed on me.  As Menagerie’s drawing burned, a familiar purple and gold anthropomorphic insect rose in our midst.  Even though he was gone, Menagerie had promised to save a part of Mutant and draw him an excellent portrait.  She had kept her promise, and it reminded me that there was so much more at stake here than just my petty need for revenge.  Mutant had died fighting to keep us safe; letting myself succumb to rage and impulsivity would only tarnish his memory.

I knew that Menagerie’s creations wouldn’t last long, but it thrilled me to see our lost comrade fighting alongside Parasite once again.    

“Organelle,” I said to my construct, my head much clearer, “What have you found?” 

The brunette frowned as she scanned over again, finally resting her fingers at the base of Distortion’s spine.  “There’s a device here. Something burrowed in her skin. It’s emitting a small pulse, keeping her nervous system nearly entirely paralyzed.”  

“Can you get it out?” I asked.

“It won’t be her purview,” Dragoon said, “She’s made to fix cellular issues.  If it was a poison or even a parasite she could. We need to carve that out.”  

“Then cut it out,” Menagerie insisted.  

Our captain grabbed her limp, left arm, “I can’t.  I can’t pick up my arm.”  

Back when we had fought Kalr, the demolitionist, and Jai, Dragoon had been hit by an explosive because I’d been too slow to raise a wall for us.  The blast and tumble must have done enough damage to undo all the work that Mother Audrey had done for her. Because of me, her arm was shattered again.  Though, it wasn’t just me. It was these monsters who had maimed her in the first place. It was because of these bastards that Dragoon might have issues building and creating in the future.    

“I’ll do it,” Zeal said with a grin, “As long as someone has a blade for me to use.”  

Warden wordlessly fished out a boxcutter and tossed it to the head of Serpentine.  

A loud crack ripped through the air, the same crack that had heralded Distortion and Adamant going down.  I tracked the noise and looked up, spotting Jai with a rifle aimed straight at Zeal. As Jai adjusted his aim, Exchange slammed into him and sent him tumbling again.  Looking at Zeal, I could see a tiny little red spot on his cheek that hadn’t been there a second ago. 

“Zeal, power yourself!” Dragoon shouted.  

He dropped the boxcutter and convulsed as he gave himself a dose of his power, just enough to keep him conscious despite the machine trying to halt his nervous system.  “Hard to-to think. No-no control,” he stammered, looking at me. “Need another cutter.”  

“Warden, don’t worry about Zellig!  Parasite and Interface have him for now.  Carve that shit out of Distortion’s neck! We need to get out of here.”  

He obeyed Dragoon’s command and ran forward, picking up the boxcutter.  “Tell me where,” he asked the duplicate of Organelle.  

She placed her finger on a little red spot on the side of Distortion’s neck, “Right there.  Don’t cut too deep.”  

Despite Zeal’s power giving me extra strength, the tax of keeping Organelle constructed was starting to weigh on me.  “Warden, cut fast,” I said, “Soon I’m going to lose her.”  

He nodded, setting to work with the boxcutter and making a clean incision in her skin.  “What exactly-” 

Another loud crack ripped through the air, but this time something got in the way.  

Eldritch was fully grown now.  Eight and a half feet of Neklim muscle glared down at Jai.  Even though Eldritch was encased in a wall of meat and muscle, I could feel his rage.  Like me, like all of us, he was tired of feeling small, tired of feeling insignificant.  

And now, he was anything but.    

A blond blur darted behind Jai, but this time the Trillodan operative was ready for another reckless charge.  He turned, ready with a handful of powder that Exchange literally ran through; he tripped and fell flat on his face, rolling a few meters past his intended target.  Exchange rolled on his side and started hacking up his lungs, his body folding as his diaphragm expelled every bit of air from his body. Jai reached to his hip and drew the hand canon that had turned a few of Trample’s animals to oozes and turned it onto our massive Neklim comrade.

I tensed as he pulled the trigger six times in a row.  I expected to see green lines cut a path through Eldritch and disintegrate my teammate, but it never happened.  Instead, a handful of growths were expelled from the collective, landing on the ground with a gross squish.  Eldritch barreled forward, ejecting other tainted portions of his anatomy as Jai tried to dissolve the hulking figure.

A grizzly smile crossed my face as Jai was forced to run, using a literal grapple gun to get himself across the road and away from Eldritch’s grasp.  As soon as he was clear, Jai turned his sights to someone who couldn’t so readily shrug off his weaponry. A green tipped dart flew over the battlefield, towards the brawl between the Trillodan infantry against Gnaw and Dancer.  

Dancer called out a warning, but Gnaw was too slow.  Green cracks lit up across his leg as Jai’s dart found it’s mark; without a glimmer of hesitation, Gnaw reshaped his arm into a massive set of teeth and bit through his own knee, stopping the spread of the affliction.  Even with Zeal’s blessing, he still collapsed, and the Trillodan foot soldiers added a few holes to his torso. Dancer blinked forward to grab her teammate and pull him away; she endured a bevy of lasers but she managed to drag Gnaw away from the dozen and a half soldiers who were still in fighting shape.

“Eldritch, deal with them!” Dragoon instructed, pointing to the squad.  “Menagerie, your pets, sick them on Jai! Trample, give Eldritch some backup.”   

I focused myself back on Warden as he nudged me, “I need extra hands.  I can’t dig in here without someone holding the skin open.”

“Organelle,” I said, “help him.”  

My copy obliged once given direction, holding open Distortion’s neck as he dug in, using the tip of the boxcutter as a little probe.  “It can’t be big,” he said to himself, “It was fired from a gun and barely made an entry wound. So-” he cut himself off. “Do you see that?” he asked me, pointing to a little silver thread.  

“It’s wrapping around her spine.  Be more aggressive with the boxcutter, let’s really get at this thing.”  

Warden gave me a worried look but didn’t disagree.  He made another incision and my copy of Organelle held the skin open.  Sure enough, there was a silver coil of thread wrapped around Distortions spine.  “Great,” he said, annoyed, “I’m going to perform fucking spinal surgery with a fucking boxcutter.”

“You might have to,” Menagerie replied, pointing to Zellig, “Something’s wrong.”  

Parasite had been beating Zellig just a moment earlier, he had been taking advantage of every little opening that Interface had made for him; Zellig was now nearly in full command of his body again, and he was pushing Parasite back.  Even with his speed, Zellig was ready to answer, always prepared with a counter for Parasite’s next attack. As our teammate brought down the staff, Zellig caught it and Parasite by the neck at the same time. One fluid motion stripped Parasite of his weapon and sent him flying into what had been someone’s house.  

In the moment of stillness around him, Zellig turned to us, glaring daggers at Interface as his face twitched one last time.  

Interface sat up, gasping for air.  

“What happened?” Dragoon demanded.

“He-I, how-”

“Interface, what happened?”

“Zellig locked me out!  H-he-he, somehow, kicked me out of his system.  It was like, updating or something! I don’t fucking know!” Interface insisted.  

“Grab him again!”

“I can’t!” Interface exclaimed, “He did something to hide himself from me!  I literally don’t feel his electronic signal anymore, Dragoon. There’s nothing for me to take anymore!” 

Our biggest hindrance on the Trillodan commander was now inert.  Now Parasite was going toe-to-toe with the most dangerous being we had ever fought against, and he was doing it alone.  

“Trample,” Dragoon said, “Send everything you can towards Zellig.  Now!” 

Even though the bitch was confrontational, she clearly understood just how dire things had become.  She snatched the little blade of hers and raked the underside of her arm, her face losing color as she created a pack of what seemed to be a bear/hyena hybrid.  The dozen began charging, even before they were fully grown.  

Zellig tried to go for the metal cube he’d brought with him, but the three frontrunners of Trample’s beasts slammed into him and kept him away.  But, he wouldn’t be stalled for long and Dragoon knew that.  

“Eldritch!  Eat more and get to Zellig!” 

Our massive Druid was being riddled with laser fire, but Eldritch was built to endure.  Gnaw and Dancer had made work of some of the soldiers and that had left plenty of fuel for my teammate to consume and burn to grow.  He had only been eight feet when he charged away, and now he was probably closer to eleven. The soldiers tried to use range to their advantage, but Eldritch was able to turn debris from Warden’s buildings or fragments of the transport ship as projectiles, continuing to keep them on the backfoot.  

Still, the Trillodan were good about keeping together and leaving as little behind for him to consume.  As a unit, the infantry kept retreating and putting rubble in the way, slowing him down with munitions and as much laser fire as they could conjure.  Even though he was a monster, it was clear Eldritch was frustrated and feeling pressure. Barreling forward, Eldritch reached out, his limb stretching far enough to grab a trio of the remaining footsoldiers.  They screamed as they were ripped apart and eaten, adding material to the ever growing monstrosity.  

The survivors retreated back farther, moving away from Zellig to force him to choose one objective.  Eldritch moved to assist with Zellig, but the remaining ten infantry refused to let him go unscathed and directed fire to his legs, slowing him down.  Even if they couldn’t bring him down, they weren’t about to let him get access to their commander that easily.  

“Warden!” 

“On it,” he said, giving up on the spinal surgery for a moment.  Raising his hand, he conjured a cage around the remaining regulars.  It left him out of breath, but it meant that our best countermeasure against Zellig could charge, unhindered.  

As Zellig tore himself free of Trample’s pack, Parasite slammed into the commander.  Zellig’s head snapped to the side, broken from the force of Parasite’s blow.  

In a blur, it snapped back into place and Zellig hit Parasite hard enough to send him tumbling a dozen meters backwards.  The grey-skinned Trillodan grabbed the cube of metal by the handle. There was a hiss of air as some of the metal sprung open, revealing a sphere of glass that looked like it was holding a tesla coil in the middle.  Parasite threw himself back at Zellig, trying to prevent him from using whatever that was on Eldritch.  

A sphere of electricity launched out from Zellig’s cannon, making a dazzling display as Parasite shot back into the wreckage of the Trillodan transport.  Our comrade hit the scrap heap so hard he bounced off and landed face down in the dirt, his body gone completely still.  

Without any hesitation, Zellig turned the weapon on Eldritch. 

It was like a weaponized version of Shock’s power.  The electrical grenades were frying and ripping off hundreds of kilograms of Eldritch at a time, and the force of the blasts were driving him backwards, away from the Trillodan and away from our friend.  Our massive druid was over teen feet tall and within a few seconds had been reduced to under eight. Zellig stepped forward, deliberately driving him back towards us, corralling us.     

Because he knew we still didn’t have a way out.  

Dragoon stomped back to us and flexed her hand that was working.  “Move,” she said to Warden, placing the gauntlet on the back of Distortion’s neck.  “Please don’t kill her,” Dragoon begged as she activated the electromagnet in her glove.  

Spindles of silver were ripped free of Distortion’s spine.  The teleporter was suddenly, alert, screaming in agony as she tried to sit up.  The instant Distortion put weight on her left arm, it buckled, like all the tendons had been cut.  “What did you-” Distortion demanded, wide eyed.  

“Distortion, teleport us,” Dragoon insisted, “Now!”  

She glanced around, trying to figure out exactly what was happening.  “There’s too many-”

“Zeal!” 

The head of Serpentine reached forward, granting her an increased threshold for pain and power.  However, it was starting to show on his face that lending his gift out to so many was exacting a toll.  He was pale and ashen faced, his hands starting to shake as he kept himself upright. He was using his own power to grit through the same thing that had kept Distortion unconscious; how long until he collapsed and everyone here lost the strength he loaned out?

Dancer had dragged Gnaw back to us, both of them looking extremely worse for wear.  Both were soaked in blood and panting with exhaustion. Eldritch had been reduced from probably four tonnes to less than half a tonne in a handful of seconds thanks to Zellig being able to wield goddamn artillery by hand, but he was back with us.  

We had done a good job regrouping around Dragoon…except for one.  

Parasite was still down, removed from us.  Cut off and alone in enemy territory.    

Once Eldritch wasn’t a threat, Zellig leapt over to the wreckage of the transport, grabbing the unconscious form of Parasite.  The Trillodan commander lifted him like a hunting trophy, lording it over us; he had Parasite and we were powerless to take him back.  

“Give me Adamant,” Dragoon demanded, her voice cracking.  This was beyond anger, this was a point of desperation for her.  Zellig had her childhood friend in his clutches, and Adamant was our only way to beat him.  

As Warden made an incision around the spine something made a metallic tink against Dragoon’s suit.  

On the rooftop, Jai gave her a condescending salute as her power armor began to show green cracks.  

“Protocol: Evacuate!” Dragoon shrieked as her suit began to dissolve around her; the whole back of the power armor fell away as each component decoupled.  Our captain literally fell out, throwing herself away from the mess of melting metal.  

As much chaos as there had been, there was a sudden horrific stillness that settled across the battlefield.  Zellig held his quarry aloft. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to.     

“We can’t leave him,” Eldritch said, voicing what we all feared.  “Alexis, that’s Murphy! We aren’t going to leave him, right?”

She didn’t answer her friend’s question.  “Disperse the growths. Zeal, give her all you have left.  Distortion,” she said, her voice cracking, “As far away as possible.”  

For one eternity of a second, I watched Zellig lord his capture over us.  I stared long and hard at my comedic partner. I stared at the man who had given so much effort and heart to keep me alive, to keep his friend alive.  I felt like screaming that it wasn’t fair, that Zellig needed to give him back. It wasn’t Parasite’s time to go! Of all of us, take someone who wasn’t Parasite!  Anyone else.    

And then, I entered nothingness, forced to accept a harsh reality.  

Murphy Pell, Parasite, my friend, was our third loss to the Trillodan.    

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

“He’s going to get himself killed,” I hissed to Dragoon as we watched Parasite take a few steps forward, meeting Zeal in the middle of the school yard.  “He had a bomb go off in his face like two hours ago and now he’s going to fight fucking Zeal! Why aren’t you stopping him?” 

Dragoon shot me a glare, “It’s fucking Murphy we’re talking about here.  This is what he’s best at.”

Menagerie stepped beside us, “Even if this is his wheelhouse, are you sure he’s using his best judgment after what happened earlier?”

Dragoon kept her face still, but I was sure Menagerie’s comment wormed under her skin. After all, our Peculiar artist wasn’t wrong, it had been a harrowing day for all of us, especially Parasite.  Even though he and Mutant hadn’t been the closest of friends, they were still comrades who had fought beside each other time and time again. In the last few hours, he’d fought to keep me alive and then been the one to put Mutant out of his misery.  

“Your suit also beat him back on this ship,” I pointed out, piling on Menagerie’s point.  “Do you think your suit holds up against Zeal?”

“Lightshow,” Dragoon whispered, “I don’t think I beat Murphy.”

That got our attention.  

“I think that he let me win.  At least in part. I think if he’d wanted to, Murphy could have bashed my brains in despite my new suit.  For all its renovation and upgrades, it doesn’t let me win in a fist fight against him. Not if Murphy goes a hundred percent.” 

I turned my attention back to the dueling duo.  A few steps away Eldritch was staring intently, muttering a prayer while he watched his best friend square off against one of the most outspoken murderers from our home world. 

“No one interferes,” Parasite declared, “No one gets to bail you out when you start losing.”

The little jab got a sneer from Zeal.  “Agreed. No one gets to stop me once I start breaking your bones.”

“We’ll see.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Adamant, “Why aren’t we having him fight,” I whispered to Dragoon.  “He can’t lose.”

“And Zeal likely knows that if he ran into a couple members of Stampede,” Dragoon replied.  “Plus, he knows Parasite and people don’t think his power is anything special if you haven’t seen him in action.  In terms of actual fighting ability, only Siphon is going to best him. Zeal loses sanity and goes crazy the more power he uses; Parasite’s going to exploit that.”

Dragoon wasn’t wrong, but she was definitely being optimistic.  All the fighting prowess in the world wouldn’t help Parasite do much against someone like Goliath or Eldritch.  At a certain point, Parasite’s skill was eclipsed by raw power. Zeal would go crazy, but he could push his gift substantially farther than Parasite’s; Parasite’s gift could make a part of him up to about eight times stronger, but Zeal’s power made all of his body stronger.    

Zeal rolled his neck and equipped a deranged smile right before lunging.

He was fast, almost entirely closing the gap of ten meters in three rapid strides.  Zeal landed and swung, but he only found air as Parasite leaned backwards and took a step away in an effortless display.  The head of Serpentine threw a few more rapid strikes but Parasite didn’t even need to raise his hands to block. Each punch was read and easily evaded by our Enhancer, despite Zeal’s speed.  

“You think that’s all it’s going to take?” Parasite laughed as he avoided another crude jab.  In a flash our teammate countered, rapidly landing three quick blows against Zeal, stunning him.  A fourth hit to the chin seemed to knock him out of his stupor. “You think a little burst of speed is good enough?” Parasite shouted as he parried a straight punch and grabbed Zeal’s arm to pull him forward and upset his balance.  “Do. Better!” he shouted, punctuating each word with a blow to his torso.  

Zeal swung back with a wild hook that was all too easy for Parasite to duck under.  As he came back up, Parasite snagged his staff from the pouch on his pants and drove his now reinforced hand into Zeal’s ribs.  The madman stumbled, the wind driven from his lungs. While he was dazed, Parasite spun around and extended the staff, slamming the rod of metal into Zeal’s thigh.  

He cried out and tumbled, throwing himself away from Parasite as he regarded him with a new respect and caution.  

“You’re the head of Serpentine?  Pathetic!” he shouted, raising his arms to the side in open challenge.  “You’re the one people are scared of? You’re weak!”

I knew that my teammate was hamming it up to get inside Zeal’s mind, but you could feel his rage, his disappointment, and his hate seeping through his words.  All he’d been forced to deal with, all he’d been forced to endure over the last day, it was all flooding out. Parasite was done feeling weak and afraid; he was going to make Zeal take the brunt of it instead.  Scarier still, he wasn’t crazy like his opponent. Parasite was in complete control, like he had entered some kind of murderous tranquility.    

For a brief moment, I felt pity for Zeal.     

Zeal roared and dropped to all fours, his whole body convulsing as his expression twisted even farther.  Parasite twirled his staff, waiting patiently for his opponent to charge.  

As fast as Zeal had been earlier, he was easily doubling that speed.  The overconfident smirk vanished from Parasite’s face as his opponent practically flew, closing the gap between them in a blink.  Zeal’s hands were too fast for me to track, but Parasite seemed to instinctively know where to move to avoid the onslaught as he moved in a circle, keeping himself away from Zeal’s back hand.  

“Alexis,” Eldritch whispered, “We can’t watch him die.  I have some mass, I can-“

“No,” Dragoon snapped.  “Murphy picked the fight because he knew he could win.  He knew exactly what he was doing. If we interfere, we don’t get Zeal to help us.  We need him. His power, for better or worse, is the only fucking thing that is going to get us off this planet without relying on Infinite.”  

“Her teleporting the ship off Tso’got nearly killed Command,” I muttered, remembering the grim side effects he’d endured trying to keep her sane.  Command was a necessary partner that Titan had paired with Infinite since he could help keep her stable as she seized more and more power to wield.  However, the Overexposure brought on by controlling her for that had effectively made him powerless for an entire week, even with Organelle nursing him back to health.  Whoever I had seen in that vision, they had warned me that Alterations were the most powerful thing, but also the most volatile.    

Dragoon was right, relying on Infinite was dangerous.  As powerful as she was, taking advantage of her strength was tempting fate.  I wondered how long it would be until I was fit into the same category as her: powerful but unhinged.  

“Still,” Menagerie whispered as we watched, “Can he beat Zeal?”

“He has to,” Dragoon said, staring intently at our friend as he fought for his life.

Zeal was a blur, darting around Parasite and trying to find an opening.  His absurd speed was still being countered though; Parasite was holding his own through what could only be described as premonition.  Everywhere Zeal went to strike, Parasite was ready to block and counter, forcing the madman back. Wide arcs of the staff bought him space, but Zeal was relentless in his pursuit and kept recklessly seeking openings that Parasite was quick to deny.  

For all the pressure he was under, Parasite looked remarkably focused, cool, collected.  He’d fought against people this fast before and he’d fought against people much stronger than Zeal had made himself.  My best guess was that he was going nearly six times faster than normal, but the sheer speed had cost Zeal any real kind of finesse.  What movements of his I could track were crude and simple, something Parasite had seen countless times when he’d trained. For him, it wasn’t about dodging Zeal in real time, it was about being three steps ahead and knowing where the next hit was coming from.  

What had become more narrow was Parasite’s window to answer with an attack of his own.  Despite the gap in skill, Zeal’s speed meant that Parasite was constantly playing catch up.    

While he could spin the staff around to keep Zeal pushed back a little, it was too easy to read, too slow an arc to catch the hyper-charged head of Serpentine.  Nothing he was throwing out was landing, and despite him revoking a chunk of his sanity for incredible physical attributes, Zeal was seeming to learn Parasite’s pattern with the staff.  

“Come on, Murphy,” Eldritch whispered, “Come on man.  You got this.”

I didn’t share Eldritch’s optimism.  Glancing down at my hand, I thought about all the things I could make that would even the playing field between them.  The upside of my new power was that so many options were at my disposal, and it wouldn’t take much to make an opening for Parasite-

“Don’t do that,” Interface whispered, stepping in just behind me.  “Look at him. He knows what he’s doing.” 

“Parasite doesn’t fight at his best in an open area,” I replied, still not buying into their faith in my friend, “He needs walls and terrain to exploit his perfect balance and natural gymnastic ability.  In the open, he’s not as fast or as strong as Zeal.”

Interface rolled their eyes, “You’re still hung up on the wrong things.  I know that look he’s wearing because I see Titan wear it all the time before he corners someone.”  

Surprised, I stared more intently at Parasite, looking full into his face, baffled by what I saw.  

He wasn’t just calm, he was anticipating and calculating as he moved; he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he had been using the same sweep to keep Zeal at bay.  Parasite was counting on Zeal to notice and take the easy opening that he was leaving.  

“You clever fucker,” I whispered, “You always told us angry people fight stupid.”  

In a flash, Zeal seized his opportunity and surged forward right after Parasite had started another sweeping strike with his staff; Parasite sprung the trap and let himself turn with the swing, dragging his left leg in tow.  The whole encounter seemed to stop for a moment as Parasite’s shin connected with Zeal’s cheek.

And then in fast forward, the head of Serpentine tumbled and rolled along the ground, ending up in a heap about four meters away.  

Zeal’s power bolstered three fundamental things about the bearer: strength, speed, and durability.  Even though Zeal was probably six times faster than a regular person and six times as durable, a perfectly placed kick to the jaw from Parasite was more than enough to break someone’s neck; the fact that it hadn’t killed Zeal outright was impressive.  

In the moment of stillness, I glanced across the way to Zeal’s cronies—Dancer and Gnaw—to see them both dumbfounded at watching their boss stumble back to his feet, still reeling from the hit.  As he stopped for a moment, Zeal wasn’t wearing that deranged and confident smile. It was like our champion had kicked it clean off his face. After all, Parasite wasn’t someone who came across as imposing and yet he was handily beating Zeal in a fist fight.  The cognitive dissonance had to be weighing on Zeal.   

As much as we could tell Gnaw and Dancer wanted to help their leader, both held off, knowing full well that they were outnumbered.  I noticed Dancer glance a bit nervously at Adamant; my guess was that she knew exactly what he was capable of. Should they pick a fight with us, he wasn’t someone either of them could beat, even if he was still a little battered from our fight with Kalr and the demolitionist earlier.  

Parasite spun his staff around, staring down Zeal like he was a wild animal.  “Face it, Zeal, you’re done. Don’t make me knock you on your ass again.”  

He cackled, a laugh befitting a man who had come completely unhinged.  “You-you, you think I’m done?” 

For the first time, Parasite looked a touch nervous.  

Zeal was a blur, going straight for our teammate at a dizzying speed.  Parasite swung his staff around, but even though he was losing fine motor control, Zeal was simply too fast.  He ducked under and drove a fist into Parasite’s guts.  

I could practically feel the force of the blow despite me being nearly ten meters away.  

Parasite flew backwards, tripping and tumbling despite his perfect balance.  Before he could stop himself, Zeal caught up. The madman’s foot nearly crashed down on my friend’s throat, but a slight adjustment from Parasite made it come down on his shoulder instead.  Even with his passenger helping absorb the blow, I still heard the crunch of bone as Parasite’s shoulder came out of socket. He screamed, trying vainly to grab a hold of Zeal’s ankle.  

Zeal laughed maniacally as he zipped around Parasite, kicking him in the ribs and tossing him two meters towards us.  

To his credit, Parasite rolled with the blow and used the momentum to bring himself back up to his feet.  By the time he was upright, Zeal was already slamming a fist into his jaw and throwing him back to the ground.  Parasite skidded on the packed dirt, crying out as he bounced off his trashed shoulder, but Zeal showed no mercy.  With as much power as he had given himself, he had no concept of what being merciful was anymore.    

The psychotic head of Serpentine surged forward and abruptly fell to his hands and knees, his legs kicked out from him.  

For as battered as he was, Parasite was still a step ahead.  He’d been waiting for a good chance to take out his balance since it was still vulnerable.  For all the speed and strength he had, Zeal didn’t have extra mass to keep himself rooted. It didn’t take any extra power to disrupt his balance, especially if he was moving too fast to stop himself.  Once Zeal had committed to a straight charge, Parasite had found his opportunity to turn the tables.    

As Zeal fell to his hands and knees, Parasite’s arm cracked back into socket and he threw himself onto Zeal’s back.  Parasite wrapped himself around his opponent, pushing his feet against Zeal’s inner thigh to force his legs down, keeping Zeal face down against the ground.  Like some kind of python, Parasite wrapped his arms around Zeal’s neck and squeezed as he fought to hold onto a sleeper choke.  

However, Parasite couldn’t keep control of Zeal’s legs and arms at the same time.  As he kept him pinned, Zeal started to brute force his way free of the choke by pulling Parasite’s forearm away from his neck.   

“Come on damn it,” Dragoon pleaded quietly, “Come on, have one more trick.  Please.”

Parasite grunted, but it was clear he was losing the window he had given himself.  Even though he’s sprung an excellent trap, it wasn’t enough to put Zeal down in his empowered state.  As the choke was slowly ripped free, Zeal’s manic laugh came out in a gurgle; the head of Serpentine knew that Parasite couldn’t overwhelm him.  

He knew he was going to be able to beat this.  Zeal knew that the fight was over.  Once he pulled himself free, it was just going to be a matter of beating his head into the ground until he stopped struggling.  

Parasite took a deep breath, trying to center and calm himself as he watched his only lifeline crumble.  

I started pleading along with Dragoon; he needed one more trick.  Even though he’d managed to keep his head, I knew the onslaught from Zeal wasn’t without cost.  Those hits had landed and Murphy was hurt. This fight needed to end, right now, for my teammate keep breathing.  

To everyone’s surprise, Parasite stopped struggling with the choke, instead allowing his arm to be pulled free of Zeal’s neck.  It baffled everyone, even Zeal. But because he was still mostly facedown on the ground, he couldn’t pull Parasite’s arm all the way away from his face.  Instead, it stopped on the left side of his head and in a blur, Parasite shot both hands around Zeal’s head, pressing his fingers against the man’s eyes.  

“You move and I fucking blind you,” Parasite screamed, making sure that there was no way Zeal could misinterpret.  “You’re done! You understand? I don’t care if you make your eyes one-hundred times tougher, I will still rip them out of your goddamn face!” 

Despite how deranged Zeal had made himself he definitely understood that.    

There was a tense moment of stillness as Parasite kept a hold on the back of Zeal’s head, fingers ready to gouge away Zeal’s vision until a much more sane voice mumbled a reply.  “Okay, you win.”  

“Yeah?” Parasite called, challenging him.

“Yeah,” came a muffled reply, “You win.  Now, get the fuck off of me.”  

With a tremendous groan, my teammate basically fell onto the ground and flopped to his back, taking giant gulps of air as he massaged his injured shoulder.  “Good. Thank fuck. Truth be told, I didn’t want to rip your eyes out.”

Zeal pushed himself up to his knees and grimaced as he pressed a hand against his thigh, “You didn’t hit me as hard as you could earlier,” he noted.  “You could have beaten me down before I dipped into more power. Why didn’t you?” 

Parasite turned his head to look Zeal full in the face, “If I’d wanted to do some serious damage, I could have.  But if we have to run, the last thing we need is a cripple.” 

  Everyone tensed as Zeal started laughing again.  “You fucking held back? You know I was trying to kill you, right?” 

Parasite chuckled, “Of course I did.  I’m not an idiot.”

“I’m trying to literally murder you, and you know that, and you still pull your punches?  Holy shit, I thought I was the crazy one here!”  

Parasite groaned as he pulled himself up into a sitting position and extended a fist towards Zeal, “Hey, welcome to the fucking club.” 

The tension in the air faded as the pair fist bumped and helped each other to their feet.  “Alright,” Zeal said, looking to Dragoon, “I guess I’m your bitch for a while now.” 

Dragoon rolled her eyes, “Stop being so melodramatic, you’re no one’s bitch, Zeal.  You’re just going to help us get the fuck off this horrible rock.”  

He scoffed, “If you think that we aren’t Titan’s host of bitches, you’re very misguided.  But,” he said, raising his hands defensively, “Deal’s a deal. I will help you with your plan to get a working ship so we can get the fuck off of Vuuldar.”  

I still didn’t trust him to hold up his end of the bargain given his disdain for the man behind this whole crusade, but for now Dragoon was trusting him well enough.  At least for the time being, I’d keep my distrust to myself and go with her intuition instead of my own. The best thing I could do was hope that the nagging, paranoid voice in my head was being unfair.

It had been hard to gauge what had been warranted paranoia lately and what had just been whisperings of fear since losing my arm.  The best hope I had was that Dragoon had a cooler head on her shoulders than I did.      

“You mind if we come inside,” Adamant asked, “Seems a little conspicuous to just be standing out here.”  

“They can see us even if we’re in a building,” Dancer pointed out, “Going inside isn’t exactly going to hide us.” 

Zeal waved her off, “Relax, Dancer.  They can come in. Even if the Trillodan can see us, we might as well make ourselves fucking comfortable until they decide to come blow up someone else.”  He turned to Adamant, “I think you’re going to want to be the last guy in the room.”  

The head of the Lost Children furrowed his brow, “Crackle?” 

“Trample.”

The Lost Children looked between each other, clearly concerned.  “Well, this will be a fun reunion,” Adamant mused.    

“Context for the rest of us?” Parasite asked as he extended his arm and had something else crack back into place.  

“Trample is the right hand of Stampede, and she never forgave Adamant for getting me away from them.  She’s a Druid who creates rampaging animals that she basically uses like guided missiles,” Exchange explained.  “But she’s pretty, um, she’s a bit umm…” he stammered, not able to find the right words.

“She’s a cunt,” Distortion said, blunt.  “She makes me look nice and she really hates Adamant for pressing her friends head into the ground hard enough her skull exploded.”

“That’d do it,”  I muttered.  

Adamant rolled his neck and shook off the nerves, “Well, we’re gonna have to get over ourselves soon anyways.  Let’s just rip the bandage off.”

As much as he hadn’t sat right with me initially, I was growing to like Adamant and his inclinations to seek out conflict.     

Inside the school was just as run down as the exterior: paint was peeling, most surfaces at least partially covered in dust, and there were spots that looked like the victim of termite exposure.  The school itself was fairly limited and only had a couple classrooms, and only one had any occupants. Two people were laid down, both wearing impromptu bandages made of squares of fabric secured by duct tape.  “Trample, Warden,” Zeal said, stepping in front of us, “The Rogue Sentries, and the Lost Children.”

The woman, who by process of elimination had to be Trample, immediately glared past Zeal and bared her fangs like some kind of wildcat.  “Adamant? You fucking brought Adamant here?” Apart from her rather ugly facial expression, Trample was a gorgeous, delicate, dark-skinned beauty with a mess of black curls cascading down to her shoulders.  “Get him the-”

“Shut up,” Dancer shouted, literally teleporting an inch away from Trample and pressing a hand to Trample’s throat.  “If Zeal wanted them gone, they’d be gone. We’re working with them for now. Deal with it.” 

“She can teleport?” Dragoon asked, suddenly interested.  

“Short range, personal only,” Dancer replied, still clearly not happy with Dragoon.  “And only available for a minute at a time.”

My eyes turned to the other person on the floor, Warden.  “So, what do you do?” 

“I’m a Conjurer.  I make items that can be used to restrain or imprison people,” he replied, averting his eyes and hiding his heterochromia.    

“Kinky,” I replied with a little smirk.    

Unlike Trample, Warden seemed to at least have a decent sense of humor about himself and gave me a little grin.  “It can be if the situation calls for it. Chains, duct tape, bars, rope, etc., I can pull it out of thin air. Depending on the situation, I can make some more abstract stuff too, like road spikes.”  

Zeal moved himself into the middle of the room, making sure all eyes were on him before speaking.  I wasn’t sure if he was deliberately trying to get everyone’s attention because he was now obligated to work for Dragoon or because that was just how he operated.  “This room is going to get far too full with personality if everyone’s in here. Lost Children, Stampede, how about you two get refamiliarized and bury the hatchet.  Sentries, Interface, how about you take the room across the hall and rest up for a few minutes.”

“Shouldn’t we get going, like now?” Eldritch asked, looking around, strangely nervous.  “Aren’t we pushing our luck staying?”

“We might be,” Interface mumbled, “But are they really going to want to attack a crowd of a dozen Adapted?  Especially with one of those being Zeal; he can even make me a badass.”  

My stomach rumbled, “Well, I’m fine with waiting if you guys have something I can eat.” 

Gnaw, as if conjured by a spell, appeared next to me with a brown paper bag.  

“Of course, the guy made of mouths has the food,” Menagerie said with a roll of her eyes.  

Gnaw shrugged and passed off the bag to Parasite and slipped into the other room.  Exchange teetered between which room to enter and ultimately followed us, leaving Adamant and Distortion to deal with the old grudge between the little bands.  

“No one is going to think less of you,” Dragoon said softly as he glanced over his shoulder.  

“I just…it’s scary to see them again.  Warden and Trample are the two who cornered me and made it so they could force me to change.”  The teenager raised a hand and chewed on the edge of his index finger, “I thought I would be ready to see them again, but no… just nope.”

Menagerie reached into the bag and pulled out a small loaf of bread before handing the bag to Exchange, “We all have things like that.  It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

He nodded and gave her a weak smile, but it was clear that it wasn’t quite sinking in.  Instead, it seemed being the focus was causing him literal discomfort. Looking for a quick scapegoat, he turned to me.  “I never got to ask you, but who did you make earlier?” 

My heart immediately started hammering in my ears as I had a vivid flashback of being paralyzed.  I felt the walls closing in around me, that same pressure I felt as I sustained a duplicate of him.  A gentle hand squeezed my shoulder and pulled me back to center; I mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to Menagerie as she removed her hand before I turned to answer Exchange.  “Titan,” I replied, reaching to massage my stump and undo the renewed knots of muscle. 

“He’s the guy running all this,” Dragoon explained, fortunately pulling Exchange’s eyes off me.  “His power is to turn the air into molten silicon. Supposedly,” she muttered, thinking out loud, “He fuses the atoms of nitrogen in the air to make  silicon but if he was doing that, the landscape would be an irradiated landscape.”        

Exchange looked down, as if embarrassed somehow.  “He sounds strong.”

“He is,” Eldritch replied.  “He basically melted me down once.  It was…not the most fun to experience if I’m being honest.”  

The blonde kid nodded, looking more embarrassed.  “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me then. I…I fucked up earlier.  I, I couldn’t really hit that chick and I-”

Parasite reached a hand over and grabbed his shoulder, “Dude, chill.”

“But if I was more useful your friend wouldn’t have died!”  

A hush fell over the group as we were all smacked with the fact that Mutant was dead, and that nothing was going to change that.  Exchange blushed, ashamed of himself and tried to get up, only to have a gauntleted hand snag his wrist.  

“Sit,” Dragoon commanded, catching Exchange off guard.  He obliged immediately, looking at our red-headed nerd of a captain like she was the devil herself.  “First things first, Exchange,” she said, “Even if you stepped up your game, the Trillodan would step up theirs.  The only reason that Kalr killed him was because she used those disks. She only used them because we started punching  holes in her. If you’d actually managed to do some serious damage to the demolitionist, who the hell knows what she would have done.”  

“But I-”

“Exchange,” she interrupted, “Let it go.  We’re fighting aliens who exterminate whole planets!  People are bound to die. There’s nothing we can do about it.  We’ve lost two people, Stampede has lost two from the looks of it, and Serpentine has lost a couple as well.  And realistically, before we get the fuck off Vuuldar, we’re going to lose more,” she stated, her voice cracking a little.  

I paid a quick glance to Menagerie and she returned the look: we both heard Dragoon’s steely facade start to break.  

“No matter what we do, the Trillodan are going to strike back twice as hard, and we’re going to have to keep fighting back until they break or until there are none of us left,” she continued, the edge of her eyes beginning to well up with a tear, “And until we’re all gone, we’re going to fight.  Because we’re Adapted. We fight. It’s what we do.”  

Interface reached into the bag and pulled out of their own small loaf of bread, “You know, it’s okay Exchange.  Back on Tso’got, we fought, constantly. We’ve simply done this more than you have. It’s okay that you didn’t do as well as you’d hoped.  The important thing is that you get another chance, another opportunity to prove yourself and do better.” 

He offered a weak smile, “Thanks.”  

As soon as everyone had a loaf of bread, we tore into it, greedily devouring the morsel as if our lives depended on it.  Even though there was nothing particularly noteworthy about the stuff, it was heavenly. A brief moment where we could just be human and enjoy eating.    

“You know,” Interface started to say, a little smile creeping across their face.  Except, they stopped and that smile turned into an expression of horror. “DOWN! EVERYONE DOWN, NOW!!”

Everyone immediately complied, and not a moment too soon.

A thunderous boom shook the structure as hunks of searing hot metal came tearing through the rotting and peeling walls.  Wood splintered and combusted immediately as it came into contact with the scorching hot debris, turning the room into a furnace in a matter of seconds.  Before the ringing had faded from my ears, Parasite was already on his feet, grabbing me and Eldritch, dragging us towards the door.  

I was dimly aware of someone screaming ‘what was that?’ but I couldn’t discern who had shouted.  My vision swam as I was herded back outside, even though I wanted to go back for my unfinished loaf of bread.  I didn’t care that the room was on fire, that was mine and I wanted it.  

When we staggered through the door of the now blazing building, I finally saw what had happened.  The ship we had ‘borrowed’ from the Trillodan had detonated and sent tonnes of heated shrapnel into the school and other surrounding buildings.  If we hadn’t had Interface’s warning to hit the deck, odds were that someone would have gotten ripped apart by the ejected shards of metal.  

“Everyone okay?” Dragoon shouted, helping me focus back on the present and cut through some of the ringing that was plaguing my ears.  “Anyone injured?” 

“We all seem okay,” Zeal replied.  “Interface’s warning was-”

A loud crack reached our ears as Distortion and Adamant dropped to the ground, unconscious.  Dragoon slammed her helmet on and pointed to the far side of the building. “Murphy, grab them!  Let’s get out of the-”

“No, no, don’t do that!” a thunderous voice called out.  “Your friends aren’t hurt, they’ve only been tranquilized.  I simply couldn’t have you running off on me, could I?” 

All of us knew that voice, we’d heard it shortly after coming to the planet.  It had been broadcast into our brains thanks to some mystical piece of technology commanded by the Trillodan.  

From behind the smoldering wreckage of the transport ship, a massive, grey-skinned figure sauntered forward.  Unlike his underlings, this monster didn’t wear bulky power armor. Instead, Commander Zellig was clad in what looked like a flak jacket and a pair of sturdy black trousers to match.  What did concern me was the massive cube of metal he was carrying like some kind of futuristic briefcase. I heard he had something like that when he’d fought against Clemency back on Tso’got; if it was the same thing, it was likely housing some kind of horrifying weapon that was capable of cutting down buildings and God knew what else.    

Eldritch paled.  “We’re not beating him.  Not without Adamant,” he hissed.

“Why do you think I had him put to sleep?” Zellig called back.  “His power is fascinating, but he played his hand when he vocalized his goal before tripping through Salah’s minefield.  I couldn’t have him making himself my nemesis for a few minutes, now could I?”

“There’s a whole lot of us, Zellig,” Dragoon challenged, “And I don’t know if you’ve seen Kalr lately, but she’s seen better days.”  

“The same could be said for Mutant,” he replied, with a smirk.  “Such a waste to lose a valuable specimen. So, I’ll make you an offer, Dragoon.  You all surrender and come with me. There’s no need to endure this pain, because I will be bringing you back with me.  There is no escape from this,” he said, swinging his arms in a wide arc, reminding us of the labyrinth of traps we were confined in.  “Where would you run to that Salah hasn’t already rigged to blow? Come quietly, it’ll be easier.”  

Eldritch had described Zellig as terrifying, as this guy who was more charismatic than Titan and somehow more dangerous.  I had doubted him; I had never been more wrong. The way he said it, even I believed him. We weren’t getting away from this.  He’d laid his own trap and forced us into taking a fight against him without two of our biggest trump cards: we couldn’t have an unbeatable champion or a proper means of escape.  Even if Zeal empowered us, we’d have to run headlong into a deadly maze and even then, I wasn’t sure if we could run fast enough to get away from him. From all accounts, Zellig’s grotesque strength translated to him having incredible speed as well.      

“I’ll give you a choice too,” Dragoon said, refusing to be intimidated.  “You walk away and we don’t rip you to pieces.”  

The Trillodan commander rolled his neck, readying himself for a fight as he set the cube of metal down.  “Oh, Dragoon,” he chuckled, his lips parting to reveal twin rows of deadly incisors, “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.”  

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

Everything seemed to drag.  Everyone in our little party couldn’t take back anything that had happened; they couldn’t rewind and prevent the tragedy we had suffered.  

None of us could bring back Mutant, no matter how strong we were.

Parasite and Eldritch were arguably the most distraught out of all of us, but for different reasons.  Parasite had been the one who mercifully put Mutant out of his misery, and Eldritch was the one who stripped the flesh away, leaving nothing for the Trillodan to study.  Dragoon had left a small explosive charge to char and scatter his bones to the wind.  

His dying wish was that he wouldn’t be used as a tool for the enemy.  He would not be one more source of information for them, and we had honored his request, no matter how hard it was.    

As sad as I was, I wanted someone to be angry with.  Mutant had been my friend! He was the one who had found me and pulled me out of my shell, introduced me to the Rogue Sentries and given me a place where I belonged.  Even though my life had turned into a shit storm, at least it had some purpose now. Despite everything that happened to me, I’d still probably prefer this to hiding in a darkened apartment, watching reruns of shitty shows.  

The one person I could probably be mad at for all of this was Titan, but he was hundreds of kilometers away.  In reality, he was the one to blame for us going to war with the most powerful beings in the universe. I could have screamed at Dragoon for letting Mutant fight that Trillodan giant, Kalr, but I knew that someone had to do it.  He had known the risks, and he’d done his best.  

It just… hadn’t been good enough.  

The only person I found the strength to be angry at was myself.  I had conjured Titan a few seconds too late. If I had just started with that, everyone would have been okay… or at least alive.  The only people now who weren’t worse for wear were Parasite and Eldritch. Even though Parasite had taken an explosive to the chin, his stamina had let him bounce back.  All his due diligence with exercise and training had made that passenger of his all the more resilient.  

And Eldritch was still Eldritch.  The suit of Neklim always did its best to restore the host.  

We continued forward, with Dragoon leading the way towards where we hoped the generator for the force field was waiting.  Our captain had quickly tinkered with her helmet to let her screen for booby traps that might have left for us, compliments of that Trillodan demolitionist who had been fighting alongside Kalr.  It was slow going, but the last thing we needed was someone who didn’t have a healing factor taking an explosion to the jaw before we were free of this cage. Once it was down, we’d have a way out of here and we could bring Serpentine along with us.  

I still wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being around Zeal, but we really didn’t have a choice at this point.  Adamant’s group was strong, but they weren’t well designed to withstand an ambush. Worse yet, Vuuldar hadn’t been the tumultuous crucible of conflict that Tso’got was; the Lost Children simply weren’t battle hardened in the same way as a lot of the Adapted from Ciel were.  Adamant was the exception, but Distortion and Exchange simply weren’t of the same caliber.  

I rubbed my stump, grimacing again.  Every time I worried and dwelt on the negative, my body liked to remind me that my arm had been taken off my body about fourteen hours ago.  The muscle bunched up around my stump and I winced, doing my best not to scream while I massaged the knots out as best I could. It was hard to believe that it hadn’t even been a full day since that Trillodan asshat had mangled my arm bad enough that Dragoon had to sever it.  If we’d been back on Tso’got, I’d still be in a hospital bed, not running around and fighting like a maniac.  

                If we didn’t have those restorative tinctures from Organelle, I wouldn’t have lived through that ordeal.  Now that we were out of our healing potions, injuries weren’t impermanent. Without Mutant, we’d lost one of our fellows with a healing factor to absorb damage for us.  

I cursed softly as my arm tightened again, the thought of the hole Mutant left on the team aggravating the muscle around my stump.

                We’d only been on this planet for twenty hours and it had been harrowing.  We’d been subject to multiple ambushes, a literal plague, visions in dreams, and the loss of one of our own.  Even though we’d had a small measure of success in finding the Lost Children, we were all in desperate need of sleep and another good meal.  We’d had a little bit to eat at Adamant’s safe house but since then we’d also been walking for hours and had to fight a retinue of Trillodan operatives.  

                We didn’t dare enter buildings for fear of traps put in place by that demolitionist, even though we were sure that some places had to have food stored.  Adamant offered to retrieve some since he could make himself bomb-proof, but Dragoon wasn’t about to have him expend strength to get us some snacks; it was starting to get to the point that I wanted to scream at her to stop being so stubborn.  it had been a hell of a day, and we were all tired and hungry. Right now, creature comforts would have gone a long way in terms of bolstering morale.  

But, I knew she was trying to keep us focused after the death of Mutant. There was a chance she was making a face under her helmet, but we’d never know if she was hurting or not.  Knowing Dragoon, she was deliberately being the voice of logic and pragmatism because that was the only way she could cope.  

                “I think we found it,” Dragoon muttered, pointing to a glowing pylon.  It looked like a massive generator had been attached to a piece of purple colored quartz that hummed with energy.  Even though we were easily three hundred meters away, we could feel the electricity in the air and practically taste the energy it was letting off.  

“It’s going to be rigged to blow,” Parasite pointed out.  “The whole point of them keeping it inside their own forcefield was to stymie outside interference.  That bitch would make damn sure one of Zeal’s group couldn’t walk up and smack it aside.” He winced and sucked in a hiss of air, “And I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not about to walk through a futuristic minefield.”   

Without warning, Adamant stepped forward, unafraid of whatever traps had been left for him to trigger.  “It’s okay,” he replied, turning his head to flash us a confident smirk, “As long as I get to dictate, I can’t lose.”   He took a deep breath and rolled his neck, getting in the zone. “I will reach and destroy that generator safely.”    

The air around his body glowed green as he walked at a brisk clip forward, leaving us all tense, waiting for something to detonate.  As expected, the ground erupted with fire, electricity, and jets of purple plasma. The ground shook and debris went flying in every direction as Adamant continued to stride through the hellish no-man’s land that the demolitionist had constructed.  

However, it had all been deliberately placed to stop anyone from disabling the force field’s generator.  With a goal that was diametrically opposed to his, all those munitions and advanced weaponry might have been rubber bands and water balloons.  The only ‘damage’ he took was his hair getting messy and his clothes being stained with dirt and ash. As Adamant approached the generator, he pressed a hand forward and it crumpled like a tin can under a hydraulic press.  Even though it was clearly made to endure tremendous abuse, it didn’t stand a chance against Adamant.  

Adamant, as if guided by external sources, reached forward and grabbed the crystal, crushing it in his fist; the thrumming stopped and the energy vanished, leaving silence.  As soon as he set the hunk of, now inert, rock down, Admant’s glow faded and he gave us a smile.  

He was right; as long as he got to choose his fights, he couldn’t lose.  But he was only powerful in incredibly narrow scopes; even if he could hold his own in a fight with Infinite, he had no way to accomplish the insane feats she was capable of.  No matter how hard he wanted to, I couldn’t see him warping a gigantic vessel through the void of space. I also hoped he wasn’t capable of replicating the phenomenon that Dragoon had described where Infinite almost suffocated her because she was too stressed. 

It made me worried about what would happen if I ended up too stressed.  Was I bound to kill someone when put under pressure?

“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath as my stump tightened again.  

Still, thanks to Adamant, we had our first real win all night.  Escaping and evading capture didn’t really feel like a win, especially with the death of Mutant.  But this… this was genuine damage inflicted against our opponents that would take time and resources to remedy.   

“So, now what?” Distortion asked, her snarky demeanor making a resurgence.  The only positive about Mutant’s death was that it had managed to shut her up for a little while and buy us a few hours of being snark-free.  I got the sense that grace period was expiring.  

“We go find Zeal,” Menagerie replied, “And we group up with whoever Serpentine has left.  We need the extra numbers, and hopefully something to eat.”  

“Amen to that,” Parasite grumbled, “But it means we are going to have to go deeper into the demolitionist’s thicket of doom.  Even if we don’t go into a building, we’re going to go past dozens of those charges from every which way. I’m assuming,” he continued, looking to Adamant, “That you can’t use a purpose indefinitely.”

He shook his head no.

“Okay, so he can’t be our eternal blast-proof man.  The next best thing would be to use Menagerie and Lightshow to make decoys.”

“But I’d rather not have you give me another round of CPR,” I muttered, massaging my chest.  The cracked ribs still hurt like hell and I was reminded of that fact every time I took a deep breath.  “And Menagerie is already way too pale to keep pushing herself. We can’t have her lapsing into another coma.”  

Despite her being the quietest among us, Menagerie was arguably the most fanatic.  This wasn’t the first time she’d nearly done herself in either: back on Tso’got she had thrown herself into a two-day coma because she animated all her drawing in a notebook to save us from Beleth and his gang.  I knew that if I didn’t remind her, she’d gladly knock herself out to try and avoid another loss. Even though we’d spent three weeks in space, Menagerie still felt the loss of Geyser like it had been yesterday. Between losing him and losing Mutant, I knew that Menagerie was willing to go all the way to keep our team alive.  

The last thing I wanted to do was lose another friend because she got stupid and hot-headed.  If I couldn’t risk using my power for fear of killing myself, neither could she. If I was going to have to live and be miserable, so would she.  Her glance back at me told me that she’d gotten my message loud and clear. Whether she liked it or not, I didn’t give a shit. Today was rough enough, and I wasn’t about to see someone else kill themselves.  

My visit with…whoever the fuck that alien was, had done a strangely good job of settling me down.  Where I had been panicked earlier and ready to just curl up and die, that thing had somehow reminded me it was okay to be alive and that it was okay to struggle and get up.  They said they knew my pain all too well and they had clearly recovered from that crippling loss. If that thing could manage it, why couldn’t I?

I knew it was an optimistic mode of thinking that was bound to take a huge hit in the coming hours, but for now I figured I might as well try not to be entirely fatalistic and hell bent on getting myself put into a shallow grave or into Eldritch’s meat storage.  

All eyes turned to Dragoon for leadership, and I could tell she was struggling. 

She was saved by a familiar voice calling after us, “If you want, I think I can help!” 

We all rounded, ready for a fight, but instead surprised to see the remarkably androgyny Interface sprinting after us.  

“How did—“

“I can sense electronics and the flow of electricity,” Interface explained, interrupting Dragoon, “Besides, obviously, I lied about how far away I was.  On the off chance someone was listening, I didn’t want them to know I was actually pretty close. Besides, I’m no good in a fight, not like what you guys have been doing.”  She glanced over at Adamant, “And, that guy set off like fifty different bombs. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out where to go.”  

“How can you help?” Dragoon pressed, trying to keep Interface on task.  

They grinned and pointed a thumb backwards, “A few blocks back there’s one of those slug ships that the Trillodan were using as prisoner transports.  I can take it over and fly us over the place. Even if they rigged the buildings and ground to blow, I’m willing to bet they didn’t rig the sky to detonate since none of Serpentine can fly.”  

“It seems too good to be true,” Menagerie pointed out.  “Like we’re being suckered into a trap.”  

“Trillodan can be victims of oversight, too,” Parasite countered.  “As stupid powerful as they are, they sure as fuck aren’t perfect. Arrogance does make people prone to doing some dumb shit.”

“But this is a huge oversight,” Adamant countered.  “These are people who have been destroying planets for generations.  Surely they know a thing or two about prolonged engagements and war campaigns.”   

“But they weren’t expecting us to be in the shield,” Dragoon muttered, thinking out loud.  “They didn’t know your powers, but they knew ours. We were televised and recorded, put on display for everyone to marvel at.  But on Vuuldar, the infrastructure isn’t there. The information isn’t as readily broadcasted, and the Trillodan don’t have it.”  She looked up at Interface. “You sure you can pilot the thing?” 

Interface nodded. “Positive.  It has circuitry for me to entwine with and control.  As all powerful as they are, the Trillodan still use the same name-brand electricity to make their shit run.”  Interface looked at Dragoon as if they could see through her helmet. “I can feel the explosives that are hidden around here.  As good as that sensor in your helmet is, I’m going to be more accurate. Everything has to be open to receiving a signal and I can feel that.”  They waved their hands around, frustrated they couldn’t explain it any better. “Just, trust me. I can avoid walking into any kind of trap that the purple bitch left for you.”

“And since that crazy bitch melted one of them,” Distortion muttered, “They’re probably too pussy to come back and try again.”

Adamant gave her a sideways glare but didn’t admonish her.  She had a point; I had literally conjured a duplicate of Titan and melted away a third of the Trillodan juggernaut, Kalr.  It was likely giving them pause and making their approach much more cautious. The upside of not knowing much about my Alteration meant that they didn’t either.  

“Interface, grab that ship for us,” Dragoon declared after a moment.  

“Great!  That being said, I still don’t know where Zeal is,” the androgyny Adapted cautioned.  

“All we have to do is navigate towards the middle and see where there is an absence of explosives.  If we can find a void, we can probably assume that Zeal has set up shop.” 

Interface nodded, satisfied and took a deep breath before sprinting back up the road.  

“This feels suspicious,” Eldritch muttered, “Like way too convenient.  Why would they leave a prison transport parked towards the fringes of their own labyrinth?”

“It’d keep Zeal from smashing it,” Exchange said, speaking for the first time in a while.  “If he’s as strong as you guys say, putting anything near him is a good way to just cause damage.”

I shrugged. “Maybe they’re just arrogant and knew he’d never get a chance to waltz out here and take it.  Parasite isn’t wrong about them being arrogant… I mean, over confidence has been a pretty common thing for the Trillodan we’ve encountered.  They think they’re better than us, and they’re kind of right in some ways.” I debated mentioning body count, but that seemed like a slight against my dearly departed friend. 

Even without expounding further, the message was well received.  So far not one of us had been able to go up against those operatives.  Even fighting them two on one hadn’t yielded us much success. We’d managed to claim a few arms, but knowing the Trillodan, they were going to be able to have a new one before the morning.  We might have super powers but they had technology and experience closing the gap. The only insurmountable spikes in power we’d managed involved Eldritch burning the mass from ten people and me taxing my body so hard that I lapsed into cardiac arrest.  

And right now, neither of those abrupt spikes in power was available to us.  Adamant could likely set himself to win against one of the operatives, but I wasn’t sure if he could make himself immune to two or three at once.  

The conversation was cut by a thrum disturbing the otherwise still night as a ship zipped over to us.  Inside, Interface’s body was unconscious in the driver’s seat, strapped in to make sure they couldn’t go flopping around while they flew. 

“All aboard,” a speaker squawked at us, “And do hold on.  Trillodan technology is a little bit finicky. Using a standard combustion engine is easy enough, but this fucking thing uses electromagnetism to stay aloft.  It could be a little bumpy while I figure it out.”

“Thank God it’s built like a tank then,” I replied.  I couldn’t help but smile a little; making a quick jab like that felt so strangely normal and so much more like me given the last few hours.  It was ruined by Interface making a wobbly ascent and sending me tumbling into a wall; I slammed against my stump and nearly screamed as pain shot through the left side of my body.  My teeth grinded together as I clenched my jaw to endure, to bear with the pain. Dragoon still believed in me even with the Alteration, and Parasite had exhausted himself to revive me.  

They couldn’t know how much pain I was in.  I couldn’t let them worry about me. Nobody had time for that shit.

While we hovered above the city, I looked on with morbid curiosity at the still form of Interface.  Taking a few steps forward, I poked their shoulder, expecting some kind of automatic response from the vacant shell of a body.  

“Weird, isn’t it?” a quiet voice asked from the ships speaker.  I noticed that Interface only used the speaker right above my head, still keeping the conversation private.

“Definitely.  You ever worry someone’s going to kill your body while you’re inside a machine?” 

“All the time.  But, you learn how to hide yourself when you’re me.” 

I looked down at the figure, still trying to discern exactly what gender Interface was.  It was beginning to irk me that I couldn’t get a read on them.  

“You can try,” that voice laughed quietly, “But you’ll be guessing for a long time.”

“How did you know?” I asked, unsure of where I looked to ‘make eye contact’ with Interface.  I finally settled on the dashboard of foreign controls.  

“You think I don’t notice the way people scrutinize me and try to decide what kind of person I am?  Please, people have been doing it since I was fourteen.”

I glanced at the figure, realizing that I couldn’t determine their age either.  “And you’re…how old now?”

“Twenty-two.  I know, I look like I’m still sixteen.”

“Some people pay good money to keep looking young,” I pointed out as I took a step forward and looked out through the ships forward display.  The Trillodan vessel didn’t have any windows, instead opting to have a camera feed input to simulate what a pane of glass would reveal. It was a bit chilling to look out and see this whole swath of city just…desolate.  No activity, no one driving around, nothing. Even though the clusters of buildings would be considered slums back on Tso’got, the disconcerting bit was how lifeless it all was.  

I couldn’t help but wonder how many other innocent people had been used as fuel to make those insidious slimes the Trillodan had used against us.  We’d seen easily forty people melted alive to construct one massive ooze, but those people could have all come from a single block or two. The force field was a six block radius; how many other innocent people had been dissolved because the Trillodan wanted another weapon to throw at Serpentine and Stampede?     

Interface wasn’t flying straight but instead doing a slow spiral in, using their own natural detection to try and pinpoint any location that wasn’t riddled with explosives to signify where our Adapted comrades might be.  

“So, you nearly died, and recently too,” the voice said through the speaker with alarming confidence. 

I glared back at the limp form strapped to the chair. “How?”

“I just kind of…know.”  

My glare intensified. “Doesn’t answer my question.”  

There was a pause as the ship dipped for a moment before pulling back up. “Sorry, though I might have found it,” Interface announced to everyone before cutting back to the single speaker near me.  “I recognize when people are different.”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with your Adaptation,” I countered.  “Your thing is about detecting electricity, isn’t it?” 

“True, but it does have to do with my personality.”

I wanted to call the Projector ridiculous, but I remembered what Exchange had said about the person from Stampede who had known that he was going to become an Adapted.  She had apparently been neurodivergent and that had been adjust when she had undergone changes thanks to Adapting. It wasn’t too big a stretch that Interface had experienced something similar.  

“Growing up, I learned how to spot people who were hiding something they were ashamed of: trans people, homosexuals, adulterers, criminals, or any other reason you can be self-loathing.  Bad or good, I knew how to spot people who were not being true to themselves. Part of the reason I’m so fluid is because I don’t know who I want to be. When you aren’t happy in your own skin, you learn how to spot it in others.”  

“I’m—“

“I’ve spent a lot of time around Infinite,” Interface said, their generally upbeat tone of voice entirely flattened.  “There’s things she’s done that are only possible BECAUSE she’s Infinite…but that doesn’t mean she likes who she is.” There was a pause as Interface lowered the ship, again resulting in a disappointing result.  “She isn’t the only Altered I know, and I’m well aware of what kind of threats an Alteration can pose to you. She might not almost kill herself, but she’s nearly killed several people around her. Infinite, at her core, is a sweetheart who was given the biggest weapon in history and she’s afraid of it.”

Interface didn’t have to announce the parallel to myself for me to understand their point.  “But, how do you know I almost died,” I whispered. 

“Too upbeat,” Interface replied, “You’re too happy given what happened to Mutant and for what happened to you.  I wasn’t expecting you to crack a joke at all, and you’ve made several in my presence. You’re doing your best to counter balance and trick yourself into believing you’re okay.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

There was another pause as the androgyous Projector thought about what to say. “No.  But, it’s dangerous. When push comes to shove, don’t be dumb and get a hero complex.”

I shook my head. “I won’t.  And you’re not wrong, but it isn’t just nearly dying that woke me up.  I…saw something. Dragoon saw it too earlier: the person who made the Adapted.  Or, at least the guy who played an integral part in creating us.”

For once, something seemed to completely baffle Interface.  “Wait…made us? What? How… I mean, what?” 

“Tell you later,” I said, “Because I don’t want to have to repeat myself to Titan and everyone else.  You know he’s going to want to know.” 

I felt like I could feel Interface pouting through the machinery, but they didn’t offer me a rebuttal.  Instead, our pilot addressed the whole ship. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are finally here,” Interface announced over the speakers of the ship, setting us down in front of what looked like people’s attempt at making a school. 

Made of cheap wood that was rotting and paint that chipping away, this building looked as much like a drug den as it did a place of education. But the little play structures in the yard around it, the little murals, it was clear what the people here were aiming for. My parents told me that they would give so much for things to feel familiar again. Sure, the kids didn’t know, but they remembered all too well how things differed.

Even though kids had never seen a school on Earth, the people who built it wanted to preserve that little bit of their culture. It was unfortunate that it had gotten so little maintenance over the years and had fallen into disarray. 

As the ship set down, Parasite was pushed forward, and I saw why. 

Someone rushed out at us at a blinding speed; what was disarming was that his whole torso had been contorted into a massive mouth. It was as if his ribs had been bent out of shape and formed into a fucked up set of jagged teeth.

“We’re friendly!” Parasite shouted as he rolled to the side, avoiding a massive chomp. “We are the Rogue Sentries,” he exclaimed, narrowly evading a bite that would have torn his arm clean off, “We are here to see Zeal!” 

“Gnaw, enough!” A commanding voice boomed from the front of the school. 

The man with the teeth in his torso stopped and stumbled forward as if he had been smacked upside the head. As soon as he seemed to be in control of himself again, his chest twisted and reset itself with a series of nauseating crunches. 

When his torso wasn’t a twisted mass of teeth, Gnaw was actually fairly well put together. He was average height and a bit stocky, but it was clear that there was plenty of muscle to pack a punch there. His face was strangely thin despite the rest of him being a bit thicker, and his voice was chain-smoker scratchy as he muttered a quick apology to Parasite. 

“You must be Zeal,” Dragoon said, stepping off the ship and stepping past our fighter.

“And you must be Dragoon.”  My attention turned to the man lingering in the doorway. He was tall, slender, and I could feel the magnetic confidence from 20 meters away. He had the chiseled jaw, the long blonde hair, and somehow a dapper look that made you want to listen to him. While Gnaw wore a pair of shorts and not much else, Zeal was wearing a dress shirt, slacks, and what looked like a reinforced peacoat.

How the fuck was he still so clean? There wasn’t a spot on the man, like he was magically impervious to dirt and grime. 

Zeal regarded Dragoon with a bit of suspicion as she staggered forward.  “You’re injured, and you were never supposed to end up coming here. You must have had quite the day.”

“Same goes for you.  I’m sure that you’ve noticed we are stuck here for now,” Dragoon replied, stopping about ten paces away from the leader of Serpentine.  “Interface, let them know what happened.”  

The androgyny Projector waved. “Zellig paid a visit to us up on the ship.  It was um…less than ideal. Turns out the ship that we made wasn’t built to withstand the Trillodan shelling it over and over again.”  

Zeal grinned a little, which was peculiar given what Interface had just told him.  “But, let me guess, our overlord Titan survived?”

Interface frowned, clearly perturbed with his choice of words. “Titan wasn’t on board when the ship was attacked.  Infinite was, but she couldn’t save the people with her and the ship itself.”  

“And we’re going to do what now?” Zeal asked as a woman walked out of the door behind him.  She was slender and wearing a bodysuit that had a few armored plates protecting her vitals. The woman had an intense stare, her eyes flicking between everyone behind Dragoon, as if she was looking for some reason to pick a fight.  “Does Titan have a plan, or is he ready to accept that this is too big a game for him to be playing?” Zeal said, his face curling into a sinister smile.  

I was finding him much less attractive now.  

Dragoon took a step forward, surprising the head of Serpentine. “Interface knows where Titan is.  We are going to get there and figure out a way off this shitty planet.”

“And how—”

“The evacuation ships,” Dragoon interrupted, answering his unfinished question, “I can repair them.  They were made to be damn near invincible, but they were built at the top of a space elevator and left hanging out in orbit on purpose.   If they were ever to touch down, they weren’t going to escape a planet’s gravitational pull; however, they will survive the impact and stay pretty damn intact.”

Zeal was curious enough not to interrupt or inject his own cynical musings as she paused to take a breath.  

“Most of the weight from those ships was due to cryo storage.  Heavy pods, tons of space required to seal most passengers. We can cut that out since we don’t need prolonged stay in transit.  It took people up to two decades to get to Marn but, thanks to Infinite, we can do it in a matter of weeks.”  

“Your plan is to just reduce the weight to make it able to fly?  That seems rather optimistic of you. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of master engineer.”

Dragoon shook her head. “You’re thinking too narrow.  I’m planning to cut the weight and recruit other Adapted to make it work. We’ll need rocket fuel, and Chemtrail can make fuel that would melt a modern engine.  Even though I can overhaul and engine to be efficient and durable, I will take advantage of Toolkit to make it as close to perfect as possible. And to make sure nothing melts , Armorsmith will use her ability to make metals durable and resistant to heat.”  Dragoon took her helmet, wincing as she tucked it under her bum arm for a moment. “But lastly, I’m going to need your help.”

Zeal raised an eyebrow. “Me?  Why?” 

“Because I know that your gift can make people withstand Overexposure for a lot longer than normal.  I know that Armorsmith will exhaust herself long before we can get a fully fortified ship; I need you to come with us to see this through and get us off world.” 

Zeal barked a laugh out, like some heckler in a crowd.  “You think I have any interest in going back with you? You think we want to keep losing our people thanks to Titan’s shitty war?”  His smile turned to a sneer. “So how about you take your naive idealism and get the fuck out of here. I’m plenty happy standing by myself.  Unlike you all, I don’t feel a need to be at that self-aggrandizing windbags beck and call.”

Serpentine had five people when we had showed up on Vuuldar; the fact we only saw three was damning.

“If Titan wants me to come with, he can come get me himself.  Until then, piss off.”  

As Zeal turned around, dismissing us, Parasite stepped forward and raised his voice, “How about you stop being a coward?”

The woman in the doorway glared daggers at Parasite, her first words to us a  banshee’s shriek. “How dare—”

Zeal stopped her with a raise of his hand. “Enough, Dancer.”  He took two large strides towards Parasite. “I know of you and your little band of misfits.  I know what you do,” he muttered, reproachful, “Think twice before you open your fucking mouth again.”  

Everyone on our side of the line was mortified when Parasite started laughing.  “God you’re fucking pathetic,” he cackled. “Such a big man, content to hide like a pussy.”    

Zeal was so baffled it looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. 

“I mean, just hiding out here, in a fucking run down school?  That’s the legacy you’re going to leave behind here, Zeal? This is where you’re making your last stand?  What a joke!” 

“You fucking—”

Parasite stepped past Dragoon, making sure all eyes were on him.  “You are such a pathetic, washed up, worn out, sad sack waste of space.  And normally I wouldn’t waste a second on a loser like you. But, Dragoon says she needs you to do something.  So, Zeal, if you’re not too big a pussy, how about a little wager. You and me, man to man. When you lose, you and your idiot cronies come with us.”  

Zeal’s face literally twitched with rage as he replied, “Fine by me.”

I glanced at Dragoon, and saw a surprisingly calm expression on her face.  Parasite was by far the least injured among us, and this was his arena. Zeal was an Enhancer who adjusted his own attributes at the cost of his sanity, but he was always forced to engage in a fist fight.  What made him so dangerous was that he could infect others with his power; Serpentine as a group were all gifted with mild Enhancer powers beyond whatever they had previously. That was what set them up so well as a collective.  

Parasite had been clever enough to play to his arrogance and nullified one huge aspect of Zeal’s power.  Despite his penchant as a jester, Parasite was a clever bastard. He’d just suckered Zeal into a fight with a handicap and he’d already managed to put him on emotional tilt before they had even started.  

But, even though I’d seen him go toe-to-toe with some heavy hitters, I’d also seen him beaten to shit more than once.  And Zeal…well, you didn’t get a reputation like his for nothing. He was a monster who had been doing this for almost as long as Titan and been incredibly successful doing it.  There were plenty of bodies in his wake and one more wasn’t going to bother him a single bit.  

As I watched Parasite square off against him, I was worried that our fighter had bitten off more than he could chew. 

Knowing Zeal, if he won, he wasn’t going to make his victory clean, and Parasite definitely knew the wager he had made.  

Either Parasite could knock out Zeal, or we were about to watch another teammate die.    

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