ALL NOVEL Chapter 276
Multiple attacks launching from a ridiculous number of angles. Can’t dodge. Can’t even see where they’re coming from.
Overwhelmed by the feedback from
Julian was less fortunate. In the tunnel I would have guessed his agility was on par with mine, but the boss’s initial onslaught was inescapable, and lacking a charm, he was still bound by the laws of physics. Four pulsing tentacles speared through his chest at an angle, pinning him in a kneeling position. He painfully clung to them for support, his face pale and drawn.
This was bad.
But it wasn’t the first time the system had dropped the floor out from underneath me, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. In a way, I expected it. It forced me to do what I’d always done. Improvise, take stock, and survive.
Barring an insane stroke of luck, Julien was infected. As good as dead if not worse, no matter what happened here.
I needed to end this quickly and efficiently to avoid exposure. Nothing else mattered.
I dismissed all of my summons including Talia and stayed mobile, zipping across the chamber in corkscrews and zig-zags, preparing for the taxing mental process of bringing all three summons back at once. I saved the flight charm for unexpected escapes most of the time, but its utility in combat couldn’t be overstated. A few tentacles gave chase, lashing out at air, but only barely. The misses were getting closer and closer to hitting their target, but the unexpected verticality presented an unusual avenue of attack. If I could just buy a second to grab an impact grenade and throw it—
Something sharp and hot pierced my calf, followed by the sensation of countless stinging barbs. I lost focus and plummeted to the ground, barely rolling with the impact. It’d only been a glancing blow, but…
The boon bought me breathing room. But not much. Even an indirect hit had blown through my armor and left a golf-ball sized crater in my leg. The wound bled and twinged as I dove away from another onslaught of tentacles and pulled the entire satchel of grenades from my inventory, prepared to throw the entire thing. Even if I aimed slightly behind the mantis, the fire would likely spread and kill Julian. But we were past that. He’d asked me to wait outside the boss room to finish him if the worst happened.
In a way, doing this honored that wish.
Before I could, Julien mouthed something inaudible.
The mantis stopped, tentacles freezing where they were. I swore quietly and held the satchel by my side, prepared to throw it as soon as the fight started again.
If you actually have something in your back pocket, now is the time.
Surprisingly, the mantis seemed just as frustrated. It peered down at Julien, its expression indecipherable. “There is no point in this. Whatever power you are using to prolong your life, we can sense its nature. It will crumble shortly. And when it does, the battle is won.” It shifted its tentacles, jarring the prince slightly for emphasis and opening the wounds wider. “Are you really so craven?”
“Maybe.” Julian coughed blood, raising a fist to the red that lingered on the edges of his mouth. It lowered to reveal a grim smile. “I don’t want to fight you. We’ve never met, never even had a conversation. The only reason to kill you is fear. Fear that you’ll kill me first. That you’ll hurt my friends and family if you escape. If you were mindless, or incapable of reason, I’d do it. But you’re intelligent enough to hold a conversation. So there’s still a chance we can come to an accord.”
Another flesh spear struck him through the gut. They seemed to have some sort of tensile strength, because without the support of the spears pinioning him to the ground, he likely would have fallen.
“This world does not favor mercy any more than the last. Those who cling to it will find their final moments wanting.”
Julian looked up at the creature and grinned through bloody teeth. “Then why haven’t you finished it?”
The mantis growled in frustration. “Because of this… inconvenience.”
“The power only holds if there’s something left unsaid. A desire I can grant, something that might tip the scales before drastic action is taken. Already put my cards on the table. Where are yours?”
Despite the insanity, a small part of me admired the way Julian was holding himself together. Dignity was a luxury most people lost the second they took a serious hit. He was covered in blood now, and still negotiating, still clinging to his ideals.
Naïve as they were.
Yet the creature didn’t deny it. The longer the stalemate went on, the more obvious it became that it wasn’t letting Julian live out of cruelty or puzzlement. The mantis looked up, his pinprick pupils staring towards the ceiling but not focused, as if they were searching beyond any physical constraint.
“We wish… to see the sky.”
“Is that all?” Julian forced a smile. “I was under the impression you were a hive mind. Can’t you look through the eyes of a human under your control in Region Six?”
“It can’t.” I realized. “The region six outbreak happened during the transposition—after the sky had changed. It’s back to normal for now, but if you get around the containment measures and look up from inside the region itself, it looks the same as it was back then.”
“The realms of Flauros are intertwined with our nature. We have taken root in many worlds. Each time, the sky grows red and desolate, long before we develop the strength to overtake a host capable of vision.”
This was already a clusterfuck. Might as well gather information before I had to deal with the rest of the shitshow.
I frowned. “I’ve heard from the more adventurous in my circle the hosts say things, reference events and specifics from their life before. That implies memory retention. Hard to imagine all the people you took over were chronic shut-ins.”
The mantis shifted slightly, then bowed its neck in a motion that could have been a nod. “There is truth to that. It was once our way to wipe any hosts clean, producing entirely empty vessels. That turned out to be nearly as harmful as letting them keep a degree of agency. We absorb them into the fold, add their knowledge to ours. But the process is not perfect. Many extraneous details are lost.”
As bad as the current situation was, I felt a long-held weight lift from my shoulders. I finally had an answer to what would have happened if the remnants of region six finished their receptacle. Though it wasn’t completely clear, it seemed obvious now. The vessels—the people they used to be—were gone. And no amount of lux or cores would have returned them to their previous state.
At the time I’d made the only choice I could. Blindly.
Now I knew the truth.
“Got any copies of National Geographic in your inventory?” I asked Julian, partially to keep things moving, partially to remind him how stupid this was.
“Next best.” His arm stirred at his side, shedding blood from his fingertips before it went slack again. “Phone in my front satchel pocket. Grab it and pull up the photos?”
I approached, using the excuse to inspect the damage. Five perforations that were anything but small, located around his chest and abdomen. It already looked bad from a distance. After seeing how sodden his armor was and the blood pooling on the ground beneath him, it was dire. I leaned in to unzip the satchel’s zipper, using the proximity to pass a message.
“Not sure how you’re still coherent—the pain alone would be enough to put anyone under. Going off what I can eyeball, you’re losing blood fast. Might be pushing two. Gonna lose consciousness soon. So I’ll say it again. If you’re going to do something, you need to do it now.” He grunted, and I fished the device out of his pocket, an iPhone a few generations old.
The screen—a golden, ethereal background behind a clock that looked oddly meditative—shook as the facial unlock failed.
“Code?” I asked
“1-0-0-2-6-9.”
I plugged it in, silently committing it to memory as I discreetly thumbed the screen, immediately scrolling through his pictures before he could direct me. There were a few accidental blurry shots, a couple pictures of animals in a domestic setting—either his pets or someone else’s—but those made up maybe ten percent of the reel at most. The majority was… landscape shots. Sunsets, sun rises, cityscapes, some from Dallas, some from elsewhere. The absence of composition and borderline hostile rejection of the rule of thirds told me they were amateur, pictures he’d taken rather than saved. At the end of the reel, there was another selfie of him and an older woman with gray-hair with oxygen tubes in her nose, smoking a cigarette.
“What am I doing?” I asked.
“Pull up my photos. Should be a few pictures of the big blue.”
A few?
I closed the photos app and opened it again, scrolling to somewhere in the middle. He’d taken a picture from one of the taller buildings in the city but angled the phone upwards too much. “This work?”
“Y-” He trailed off in a fit of coughing, looking paler by the second. “…that’s perfect.”
I stared at the mantis coldly. “He’s happy to give you what you want without bartering. Probably on account of all the blood he’s lost. Unfortunately, I’m holding the goods, and I don’t give things away for free. Need assurances you can sustain him in this state. Otherwise, no deal.”
For a second Julian was about to argue, but his eyes lost focus, and any disagreement he might have offered went with it.
“We have rebuilt hosts from atoms. Extending one’s life is a simple matter.” There was a slow hiss, followed by a low, thrumming hum and the spears fixing Julian in place glowed orange. Clarity trickled back into his expression, and the bleeding slowed.
I tried not to take it as a good sign. It would still kill him as soon as whatever ability he used to force this stalemate had faded. But buying him time was all I could do.
“Great. Thanks. Maybe take the skewers out of him while you’re at it.”
The mantis’s head swiveled, and while its expression was neutral, I could sense the distaste. “No.”
I bristled. “Then go—”
“Matt, it’s okay.” Julian murmured weakly. “Show them.”
Fine.
Not wanting to make an easier target, I bent low and tossed the phone screen up, watching in odd fascination as the mantis bent down and scrutinized the picture from inches away. “Such a grand view to be contained in something so small.”
Julian chuckled between heaving breaths. “If you come with us and we find common ground, I’ll make sure you get to see it for yourself.”
“Impossible. Flauros is a part of us.”
“Just because it’s always been like that doesn’t mean it has to stay that way.” Julian argued. “We have scientists and researchers now who can do things they never could in the old world. When was the last time you worked with someone who wanted to help you, someone who had access to vast resources? It—”
Julian trailed off, coughing again, as the orange light faded. His eyes widened, reacting to something only he could see.
“We appreciate… the gift.” The Mantis said slowly, almost begrudgingly. “Unfortunately, it is not enough.”
“But…” Julian trembled and stared at the ground. I put a hand on his back to steady him, arm bumping the hilt of a sword-
I did a double-take. The hilt was covered in white and gold cross-hatching and the weapon’s aura buzzed at my mere proximity. He had his original blade still sheathed on the left side. More importantly, I was certain the second sword hadn’t been there before.
“Vague promises of a future that might be better are nothing in the face of a more achievable destination.” The mantis said.
“The merciless domination of the host planet.” I filled in flatly.
“Our way is the only way.” It agreed.
“Glad we fucking humored you.”
In a manner that would have almost been funny in a less dire comfort, the monster shifted uncomfortably. “This favor will not be forgotten. We will allow the prince to keep more of his personality than most once he has joined the collective.”
How generous.
All at once, Julian’s demeanor changed. The desperation and weakness drained out of him and he glared up at the creature with pure conviction. His hand stirred by the sword at his side, blood still dripping from between his fingers. “There seems to be a misunderstanding.”
“Oh?” The monster’s mandibles clicked. “Explain.”
“If it was just me in here, things might be different. I don’t have anyone depending on me. But he does.” Julian shifted his head towards me. “I dragged him into this and asked for his trust. He’s had multiple chances to walk away, and he hasn’t.” His eyes were blank, cold, as the dynamic in the room seemed to change. “So. For his sake. We are leaving this room. One way or another. Please let us. Please.”
The last word was more prayer than demand.
“And if we don’t—”
A tentacle lashed out with a deafening snap. The attack came immediately, without warning. If it was the first time seeing it I might have moved too slow.
But I’d been coiled like a spring since the beginning of the standoff.
He didn’t blink. Didn’t react.
I hurled an impact grenade at the creature’s face as time slowed down, watching out of the corner of my eye as Julian’s mouth pulled up in a sad smile. When he spoke, his voice amplified through the room, final and authoritative.
“Be at peace.”
He gripped the new sword, blood marring the white cross-hatching. I only saw it for a split-second. A blade made of a material so foreign and unknowable my mind couldn’t make sense of it.
There was a pop as my eardrums ruptured.
And everything went white.