Elysium's Multiverse

Chapter 140

Chapter 140

Athela chugged a beer in one quick go, gasping for breath and wiping her mouth with a wide smile and a loud belch. “Why so grumpy my guy!? We’re having fun! Be happy!”

“It won’t allow me to upload footage of the senator’s death to prove myself innocent.” Riven stated grimly, popping another bottle of wine to feed to the vertical maw across his chest. “It’s beyond irritating that I was framed for this.”

Athela shrugged, kicked out her long slender legs, and popped another beer can with a fizzling sound. “You should be thinking of the cortex as more of a propaganda machine than anything else. The forums are controlled by those who control the given area, with contested territories requiring a large fee to upload footage - or it may even completely deny it outright. If you want to upload footage, it usually can’t be antagonistic to the dominant party in a sector. That’s how it’s always been.”

Further out to sea, the shimmering lights of the starry sky above reflected in shimmering patterns - setting a calm before the storm that was no doubt to come. Fay flew far overhead and further to the south, her figure only barely visible from here even with Riven’s keen dark-sight.

“Are you and Fay alright?” Riven eventually asked, laying back to stare up at the cloudless heavens and crossing his legs. “I haven’t ever seen you two go at it like that before.”

There was a pause, and Riven’s gaze shifted over to where Athela had stopped halfway from bringing a beer can to her lips.

She met his gaze, frowned, and let out a sigh. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

Athela’s right hand extended above her, and her flesh began to shift. Slowly but surely, the tiara Riven had given her not long ago started to come out of her hand like she was giving birth to it.

“That’s a neat trick.” Riven mused, watching Athela put the black tiara with inlaid rubies on her head, a bright smile adorning her features. “Is that a new ability?”

“No!” Athela replied softly, tapping the tip of her tiara with her fingers daintily. “I’m just progressing my shapeshifting abilities and found out I can store small items like this. Not like a dimensional storage like that bag you have, but rather I can physically keep it on my body if it’s small enough.”

“Gotchya. I’ve seen Fay wear her feathered boots and Azmoth keeps that large maul on him all the time, but I rarely see you wear the tiara. I’d thought you just didn’t like it.”

Athela gave him a surprised look, then let out a laugh. “Riven! I love it… I keep it hidden away because I don’t want to accidentally lose or damage it.”

“But isn’t it supposed to be used?” Riven frowned in confusion. “It has great stats.”

Athela pondered this, then nodded. “Yes… but I’d rather not wear it during fights in case it falls off when I’m hit hard or something causes it to fall off! Just let me do my thing, ok!?”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of having it though?”

Athela smiled, then took the tiara off again and softly patted it. “No. It’s a keepsake. It’s the first gift you’ve ever given me, and I want to keep it safe.”

A warm feeling started growing in Riven’s gut, and speechless - he merely stared back and didn’t reply. There was nothing that needed to be said, and the three figures on the rooftop continued to drink until morning before Fay returned from her scouting trip.

But despite the feel-good energy Riven was experiencing now, this was merely the calm before the storm. And a very big storm it would be.

***

Lieutenant Bradley Cliff was a young man, aged 24, who’d grown up in a military family who expected nothing less than excellence. He’d attended one of the best military academies in the United States, had become an F35 fighter jet pilot, and was well on his way to making his father proud before the integration hit. Before he knew what’d hit him, Bradley found himself dogfighting wyverns in the sky over Chicago’s airspace as they breathed fireballs his way.

Killing a few of the monsters using the tech he had was the key to unlocking the cyborg class when he eventually hit the tutorial. That, and the fact that he’d had a microchip implanted in his right arm as part of an experimental trial run for some of the military’s more advanced communications systems back on Earth. It’d ticked off the boxes he’d needed, and the Machine Foundational Pillar - along with the Integration Sub-pillar, had unlocked.

The Integration Pillar funnily enough had nothing to do with the actual ‘Integration’ of the planet. Rather, it had everything to do with integrating machine or mechanical parts into one’s body. His first skill had been one that changed his right arm into a part-flesh part-mechanical energy weapon that he’d found in his seemingly hand-crafted tutorial made just for him. Then he’d upgraded his body with traits giving him bionic limbs, a titanium skeleton, and he’d acquired a new skill that gave his physical attacks kinetic energy blasts whenever he struck. He’d acquired a built in engine-fueled plasma shield that could encompass an entire side of body with a half-orb of light-orange energy at will, and his body’s nanobots repaired damage far faster than normal humans could heal.

All in all, he’d gone down a route far different than normal people. Most of the classers had focused on acquiring new skills, with many of the classes either just supplying new skills at random or giving them a choice between skills and traits. When given the option, most people chose the martial arts, miracles or spells that the system supplied rather than the traits - but he was different.

He had 9 traits all focused on making him an unkillable half-machine beast.

Which is why he wasn’t at all afraid while hunting down the monster that’d killed Senator James, and carving a path through the dark tunnels in the hillside - mowing down the creatures that lived there to find the vampire and exact vengeance, was so far showing to be rather easy. The vampire’s minions were relatively weak compared to him, and he just made sure to keep ahead of the strike team at his back by a good distance so they were put in the least amount of danger at any given time. He could only hope the other strike teams were also faring this good, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

*CRUNCH*

Bradley’s half-titanium fist smashed through another of the wolf-sized insectoids, splattering its green guts across the hive tunnel floor before pulling his arm out of the large creature and throwing the corpse aside. Then it shifted back from a hand into the energy cannon version of his limb, glowing as it charged up another round of ammunition. The tunnel behind him occasionally sounded out or lit up with automatic rifle fire, targeting lasers swept from side to side, and Bradley continued on through the maze of passages while firing off pulses of energy from his right hand whenever he saw movement.

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Bradley touched his ear, opening up communications with the home base where General Florence, his most trusted officers, three of their best hackers, and their very best mapper were organizing the assault on the hive of mantis-like creatures at a safe distance. “Still no sign of the vampire, just more bugs. Are you sure this is the place?”

The patchy coms unit rang with static for a moment, before the voice of General Florence cut in. “We’re certain. Our hackers tracked him here through the unique items he was wearing, we got a brief signature read on them for analysis before the vampire broke loose and took them back. A very similar signature is coming from this hillside. We’ve also received reports that people have been disappearing from this area for a while, and after interrogating that other vampire we found a few weeks ago - it makes sense that he’d set up here. It’s a perfect location to attack from, on the border of the city where he can pick off prey to feed on easily. Just focus on your job and get it done, and I’ll be sure to make it known just how much of a hero you are, Lieutenant Cliff. Your country needs you, do not fail us here.”

Lieutenant Bradley Cliff nodded to himself, stepping around a corner into the darkness of a large, cavernous room that he couldn’t see the end of. His right arm’s energy cannon pulsed with neon orange light to illuminate further ahead, and upon feeling a sudden drop in the temperature - his plasma shield bloomed around him to encase him with a half orb of energy.

He scanned the area, still not seeing anything - but hearing the shifting sounds of something further back in the cave. He opened up coms again. “I just don’t see how or why a vampire would be able to control so many of these creatures. They aren’t registered as demons, and from what we know of the warlocks in our own city - he shouldn’t be able to control more than a handful of creatures right now. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Static again.

“You have your orders, Lieutenant. Let us know when you’ve found him.”

General Florence ended the coms, leaving Bradley frowning and alone at the head of his strike team while the lasers and flashlights of dozens of guns spread out across the room. Despite being a good soldier who followed orders to the T, Bradley couldn’t help but be a little irritated that the general was so dismissive of the oddities here.

Something just didn’t feel right about all of this.

“Lieutenant?” One of the strike squad members asked to Bradley’s left, a flashlight attached to the front of his weapon pointing out into the dark of the cave. “Are you ok?”

Bradley glanced over, nodded, and was about to reply when he stopped mid-sentence and peered harder into the gloom. Holding up a hand, he motioned for the rest of the strike squad to remain where they were - and he slowly walked forward with his energy cannon charged to max.

The translucent, orange plasma shield in front of him caused the air in front of him to shimmer as he went. His footsteps echoed throughout the cave, only interrupted by the distant shots of gunfire or explosions in other areas of the strange hive he found himself in. Ever more cautiously, he approached the side of the cavern wall - dismissed his shield, and reached out a hand to where a slimy gray substance was plastered to the stone.

The fingers of his left hand touched the substance, and he pulled his hand back to reveal a slimy, semi-sticky goo that dripped off and splattered against the floor. Looking back up, he reached out again and more forcefully pressed - noting how soft the substance was. It felt like a biological thing, a membrane, and this was further confirmed when the metal tips of his fingers punctured the membrane to reveal white skin underneath.

He gripped the camouflage membrane, tearing at it, letting gallons of fluid to spill out and wash over the stone floor. With the fluid came the body of a deathly white woman who was only barely alive. She hit the floor hard and motionlessly remained there, somehow still breathing despite the strange fluid leaking out of her mouth. She had bloodshot eyes that stared ahead without registering his presence, was completely naked, and had swollen green egg sacks growing out along her body - each ranging inbetween the size of a quarter and the size of a bowling ball.

There were dozens of them, and inside the larger eggs Bradley could see the insectoid embryos of these armored, mantis-like creatures that he’d been fighting through the tunnels. Then, looking around, he realized that there were dozens upon dozens of these camoflogued sacks lining the wall. “Holy shit…”

One of the men who’d been closer to the scene pulled off his mask and vomited, while another shied away - not wanting to look upon the grotesque figure in front of them that’d once been a woman who’d no doubt been pretty in days past.

A clicking sound echoed off the stone walls, and shadows in Bradley’s periphery moved in a blur. He whirled around, not finding the culprit of the motion - but then heard the sound of guns and bodies hitting the floor behind him.

“Level 39. An S-Rank classer… A cyborg. How cute.”

Bradley turned around, eyes narrowed, as the light of the flashlights on the ground illuminated the decapitated bodies of his entire squad. Blood was oozing from their wounds, and a sensation of cold dread overcame him when he stared back into the peripheral shadows where four eyes were gleaming a sickly yellow in the dark.

A huge frame, larger than a truck, stepped forward with large, sharp, chitinous legs - snapping spines and crunching stone in stark contrast to the silence the creature had moved with only moments before during the assassination of his people. Rows of sharp teeth smiled devilishly back at him, and Bradley’s skin started to sweat when he took a step back.

“You have entered my home uninvited, I do not know how you found my lair, but I thoroughly welcome this.” The figure in the dark snickered, and from all along the ceiling and walls - dozens, then hundreds of gray, armored, insectoid bodies with yellow eyes starting peeling off the stone to glare at Bradley. “Without aerial support, and trapped deep underground, you will be far easier to pin down - Lieutenant Cliff. Hero of Chicago’s sheep. I had been planning various ways of luring you into an enclosed space so that I may more easily kill you before ransacking the city. Being a ranged artillery specialist with your primary weapon being an energy cannon, it surprises me that you'd so obviously walk into a battlefield that suits you so poorly. Even despite the rumored traits you have that amplify your defensive capabilities. But I digress... you've made my job all that much easier by waltzing down here of your own accord.”

More and more of the creatures began to move, encircling Bradley’s position with blades flashing. Things Bradley had thought to be boulders of stone were actually in fact creatures, far larger and many sporting abnormal evolutions beyond what he’d witnessed in the weaker of their brethren up until now. His eyes were wide, his heart beat furiously, and the energy cannon on his arm that’d brought him victory through so many battles up until now suddenly seemed very inadequate.

There were too many.

How had he not picked up on these creatures before?

Static reached Bradley’s ears. “Lieutenant, we’ve just lost contact with five of the seven other strike teams. They are unresponsive, and… Hold. It was just reported that one of the other strike teams encountered an ambush and are in full retreat. Give us a status report, are you able to pull back and assist? We have reinforcements gearing up to head in, and we’d like you to rendezvous with Captain Marshal at the nest entrance.”

The cavern shook, when the largest of the creatures who'd been talking to him flashed forward and slammed into Bradley’s side, shattering the plasma shield and sending the usually sturdy cyborg crashing into the stone wall with a sonic boom. Bradley’s cannon discharged with everything he had in an orange beam of plasma, ripping through dozens of enemies simultaneously as a swarm of hungry predators tore from all sides - plunging him into darkness. Ripping, tearing sounds could be heard amidst muffled screams as pieces of flesh and metal flew through the air.

An electrical discharge began to spark beneath the piling bodies. It surged, writhed, and built over long seconds of agonizing torture, where the man struggled with desperate swings to try and kill as many of the enemy as he could - but they kept on coming.

Until he let it loose.

Power erupted in a storm of lightning around Bradley, frying dozens and then hundreds of the large scythe-bearing creatures in a torrent of energy that left the cyborg gasping for breath. His hands shook, his mana levels were at rock bottom, and desperation was beginning to etch itself into his subconsciousness. "I need to get out of here!"

"Lieutenant!" The coms unit in his ear rang again, this time much more urgent from one of the communication officers back at base. "Command is under attack! I repeat, command is under attack! We have thousands of incoming hostiles, we are in need of your assistance!"

He pushed off corpse after corpse with rasping breaths, digging himself out of a mountain of fried bodies. He only hoped he'd killed all of them after expending all of his resources to deal with the ambush, and ignored the further desperate requests for help over the coms until he found himself staring face to face with four gleaming yellow eyes while still half-buried in an army of enemies.

His face paled, and rows of gleaming teeth smiled back with sinister intent.

Then the sinister, deep voice echoed through the cave one more time. “Overconfidence is a flimsy shield, Lieutenant Cliff. A very flimsy shield indeed.”