Storm Strider

[... Year Zero. Flesh rained and mandibles the size of mountains stabbed into the earth. They descended from the stars, and they took humanity by complete surprise—they were strong, quick to reproduce, and utterly obsessed with tearing human civilization apart. Winter was catapulted into summer from the sheer mass of heat and life that arrived on our world, and every continent that could afford to send a report spoke of the same occurrence: they were material creatures, like humanity, but that was where the similarities ended.]

[They were called the ‘Swarm’.]

[Year Zero. The Mori Masif Moths tore through the far eastern continent with their sky-spanning wings, their hunger for human flesh insatiable. The Colossal Attini ants drove the hermits out from mountain hollows and claimed the far southern continent for themselves. The Deepwater leviathans decimated the far western continent before the great cities could even mount an evacuation, the cyclones they made felt even across the vast marina seas. The Hellfire Beetles syphoned magma from the volcanoes in the far northern continent, freezing a good quarter of the world. Many, many more bugs invaded each of the border continents, but there was little humanity could do to hold them. They came too quickly. Our weapons were ineffective, and their numbers were too overwhelming.]

[Then, the ‘Six Great Mutants’ appeared in Year Thirty.]

[Unlike Mutants, which are human-like bugs with extremely amplified abilities compared to their normal variants, and unlike Lesser Great Mutants, which are higher-level Mutants with the capability of human speech, the Six Great Mutants are, frankly speaking, invincible. ‘Regalia of the South’, ‘Black Witch of the Southeast’, ‘Mammot of the Northeast’, ‘Blue Flame of the North’, ‘Mortifera Pestilence of the Northwest’, and ‘Corpsetaker of the West’ were thus named the evil gods of the Swarm for their sheer destructive power, and they each led a cohort of Lesser Great Mutants who fought at their beck and call.]

[By Year Fifty, all but the Asanyon continent in the centre of the world was overrun. The Swarm conquered the ‘Dead Continents’, and the sheer mass of bugs that converged towards the Asanyon continent became ubiquitously known as the ‘Crawling Seas’, an endless wave of bugs throwing themselves at the continent from every conceivable direction—but, by Year Fifty-One, the first insect systems were created by the Great Makers. By dismantling and studying the giant bugs, they forged little metal bugs humanity could ingest to gain insect classes, allowing humans to mutate insect traits and fight back.]

[For four years, we took the Swarm by surprise.]

[By Year Fifty-Five, the Six Swarmsteel Fronts were established along the borders of the Asanyon continent. They were the fiercest battlefronts between humanity and the Swarm, and each front had their own form of resistance against their encroaching Great Mutant. The Igniscale Warriors of the Hellfire Caldera Front in the north are primarily composed of fire insect classes to combat Black Flame, the De Balla of the Rampaging Hinterland Front in the northeast are primarily composed of beetle insect classes to combat Mammot, so on and so forth… and when Corpsetaker arrived at the far western shoreline of the continent, it was the Harbour Imperators with water insect classes who met it at the edge of the Deepwater Legion Front.]

[Back then, Corpsetaker was considerably weaker. The Harbour Imperators sacrificed many in the process, but they managed to strike it deep within an underwater volcano, forcing it into temporary dormancy. Within three years, they managed to construct the Whirlpool City around the volcano and established a system of containment for Corpsetaker and his cohort, the Four Lesser Leviathans. By diving into the volcano—the ‘whirlpool’ at the centre of the city—to periodically whittle down the giant bugs spawned by Corpsetaker and the Four Lesser Leviathans, the Whirlpool City effectively stands as the capital bastion of the Deepwater Legion Front.]

[The Harbour Imperators contain Corpsetaker from the inside, while the Harbour Guards push back against the Crawling Seas trying to overtake the west from the outside. Neither Corpsetaker nor the Crawling Seas must be allowed to reach the shore of the continent five thousand kilometres away from here. However, there have been many close-calls in the past four decades. In Year Seventy, the Seventh Great Mutant known as the ‘Swarm Queen’ appeared, and were it not for the Worm God and his cohort, she would have–]

“Okay, okay, okay,” Marisol grumbled, sitting upside down on the ceiling with her eyes closed and her arms crossed, “I knew you’d talk my ear off once I actually have time to just sit around and listen to you, but… when I said I wanted to learn about the Whirlpool City, I ain’t meant I wanted you to start that far back. I’ll have you know I graduated from general school with perfect scores in history.”

[Truly?]

“Uh-huh. You’re gonna say something along the lines of… Swarm Queen showed up in Year Seventy, threatened to destroy all Six Swarmsteel Fronts by herself by working with the Six Great Mutants, but then the Worm God—who’d been fighting the Swarm since Year Sixty—showed up and beat her ass. After that, he established the wandering bug-slayer faction known as the Hasharana and gave them all special systems. Case-in-point, you. The Archive.”

[Correct. Most soldiers and warriors in the Swarmsteel Fronts—including the Harbour Guards and Harbour Imperators—have their own Swarmsteel Systems as well, but only the Hasharana have ‘Altered’ Swarmsteel Systems,] the Archive said curtly. [The only difference between the two is the existence of the Archive, which functions as an artificial intelligence capable of exchanging and extracting information between those who also have Altered Swarmsteel Systems. However, since you are currently an unregistered Hasharana, I do not have access to any updated information, nor can I connect to any other Hasharana in the vicinity.]

“Of which there is only one.”

[And even if you were registered, you would not be able to connect with him anyways,] the Archive added. [I mentioned he was one of the twenty Arcana Hasharana, who are the elites of the elites. They have ‘Arcana’ Swarmsteel Systems instead of ‘Altered’ Swarmsteel Systems, which I am not permitted to disclose the function of, so the only thing you need to know is that he is not like other Hasharana. You would not be able to connect with him unless you are an Arcana Hasharana yourself.]

“Well, I wish I could… send him a mental letter or something,” she mumbled, cracking her neck left and right as she did. “What’s taking him so long? The hell is he doing wherever he is?”

The Archive shrugged on her shoulder, and she opened one eye to peek out the window—it was a really, really pretty day outside. ‘Black Storm’ still hadn’t receded outside the city, but within, it’d been nothing but never-ending drizzles and brilliant shafts of sunlight falling through small gaps in the clouds. She could see the bustling main street right out the window, and that made her all the more impatient, all the more irritated; the man hadn’t even bothered visiting her once the past eleven days she’d been cooped up here.

Cabin fever was real. And she’d gotten used to talking aloud to the Archive instead of simply thinking in her head. Though she'd spent most of the past week sleeping the last bits of drowsiness from her point poisoning off, she simply felt she’d go insane if she didn’t hear someone’s voice every once in a while... so it might as well be her own, given the Highwind Inn’s staff didn’t seem so inclined to talk whenever they showed up to deliver her meals and change her sheets.

To entertain herself whenever she wasn't sleeping, she’d spent a fair amount of time skating up the walls and sitting upside-down on the ceiling, so much so that she’d even unlocked a tier three branch mutation three days ago—’Recalibrated Weight’—which made it easier for her to maintain her balance whenever she wasn’t standing normally on the ground. Sitting upside-down on the ceiling was now her favourite pastime.

Her next goal was to be able to sleep upside-down.

At least the meals are nice and the room is comfy.

But Reina still hasn’t returned mama’s book or any of my Swarmsteel, and this isn’t…

…

She missed home.

She missed that little one-room sandstone house at the edge of her desert town.

She wanted to see her mama again.

“… That’s it,” she muttered. “I’m leaving.”

The Archive snapped its head at her as she dropped from the ceiling and flipped around, landing softly on her glaives. [How? And where?]

“Through the window. Duh. And I ain’t leaving the city. I just wanna… you know.” She skated towards the window, throwing the glass panes open and sawing slowly through the steel bars with her preapical claws. “Anyone will go insane being kept in solitary confinement for eleven days straight. I just wanna look around a little, have some fun, do a bit of sightseeing… maybe I’ll even dance a little for a crowd! I bet most of these folks ain’t never seen a Sand-Dancer before!”

[They have likely seen more impressive things than a Sand-Dancer.]

She smiled a little, yanking in the hacked-off steel bars one by one and stuffing them under her bed. “They won’t know what hit them, then. You think they’ll toss me a few silvers if I do a good job?”

[Sure they will. Not enough to bail you out of prison if you get caught, though.]

“It ain’t a crime if nobody finds out. Come on, Archive—thirty minutes, in and out. Nobody will even know.”

[... Well, Victor will probably bail you out no matter what you do at this point,] the Archive sighed, waving her off. [Do as you will.]

And, with the Archive’s ‘permission’, she flung herself out through the window and onto the curved roof on the other side of the main street.

Immediately, her whole body relaxed. The drizzle falling upon her skin was cold, but not freezing—it was rain at just the right temperature to make the air feel cool and crisp. Quickly then, she slid down the side of the building and stumbled into the main street as discreetly as possible, not wanting to be spotted trespassing on private rooftops or something of the sort.

Now, she finally let herself marvel at the city built around a volcano, eyes wide and sparkling.

[Welcome to the Whirlpool City…] the Archive muttered, [for the third time, I suppose. The first time when you knocked out the Harbour Guard did not count, and the second time when you were being pursued by the Harbour Guards also did not count–]

Oh, shut up.

It was morning, just thirty minutes after she had her breakfast. She assumed most people had finished theirs as well, because the main street was already bustling with activity; shops and restaurants flung open their doors, the scents of freshly baked bread, roasted meats, and herbs wafting through the air. Down the street, cafes and taverns placed their tables outside beneath colourful canopies, and patrons sat sipping on wine, nibbling on tapas, and watching the city stir to life.

The grand upper city was regal in the afternoon light. Women were draped in flowing silks and embroidered clothes, walking arm in arm as they admired the latest fashions displayed behind panes of crystal glass. Men, too, were dressed in tailored tunics and coats the likes of which she’d never seen before, browsing the stores with casual affluence. Streetside jewellers showed off necklaces that sparked with oceanic gems, artisans gathered crowds around them by openly painting seascapes and volcanic sunsets, and the perfumers—Marisol coughed as the perfume store right next to her opened its window shutters, letting out strong floral fragrances her nose was sorely not used to.

But it was all so pretty, and it was all so new—she cast only one last look at the Highwind Inn before skating down the street, weaving through the crowd at breakneck speed.

The air here’s really fresh, ain’t it? she mused, sniffing as she skated past sparkling fountains, slanted gardens and plazas; she felt revitalised just being out in the open, and it wasn’t because she’d spent the past week cooped up in a little room. It’s like… well, it ain’t briny. Not salty or anything of the sort. It’s kinda like… like–

[So close to the ever-swirling whirlpool where Corpsetaker is contained, the air in the Whirlpool City is always flowing naturally. There will never not be wind in this city,] the Archive explained. [Because the wind always blows clockwise around the whirlpool, the scent of the air is the same no matter where you are. It mixes every scent from every corner of the city, which most people here call ‘Nota Sutil Del Mar’—the subtle note of the sea.]

She drew closer and closer to the lower city, and eventually came upon a checkpoint—the same one she’d darted past a week ago—so to get around it, she slipped into a back alley, scaled a building, and then slid down with the Silent Step. She ended up a good fifty metres away from the checkpoint before dropping back down onto the main street, laughing under her breath; even the terracotta roof tiles and the cobbled streets felt smooth to skate on.

More!

What else is there to see?

The style of buildings gradually changed from elegant stonework to rougher and weathered buildings as she skated deeper into the lower city. The main street here was narrower, but more cluttered with shops and stalls with charming hand-painted signs. Freshly caught seafood were displayed on wet shelves, bundles of herbs and spices hung from reed cords, and most windows were covered in grime and morning dew; the streets here were more alive with people.

Fishermen, sailors, street urchins, and merchants of all kinds went about their morning with boisterous shouts, going here and there with a sense of urgency, with a sense of purpose. It wasn’t the same as the refined men and women in the upper city. They haggled with merchants, they slunk through the alleys, they navigated the thin spaces between crates and barrels just like she was—she immediately felt more at home in this part of the city. There was the air of grit and survival, camaraderie and the raw energy of life spilling out onto the streets.

She’d half a mind to just find an empty spot, set up a donation basket, and start putting on a show like some of the street performers juggling twelve torches with four insect hands, but then she skated past a particularly eye-catching building squeezed between two fish markets.

The walls were shabby and daub, exposed timber beams jutting out the collapsed roof—it was evident nobody lived inside anymore—but the front door was still intact, albeit a little cracked and splintered from decades of neglect. Something about the subtly different scent wafting out the top of the abandoned building had given her pause, and it wasn’t until she squinted at the little iron plate on the door that she realised who the building once belonged to.

[... The city still hasn't forgotten the Vellamira household, I see,] the Archive murmured. [Your mother and your grandparents must have been rather well-liked by the people around here if this dreary house is still standing nearly two and a half decades since it was vacated. Perhaps you could reclaim it by filing a reacquisition request with the Harbour Imperators.]

…

She skated up the porch and touched the iron plate, wiping dust off the carved ‘Vellamira’ name.

If her mama hadn’t left the Whirlpool City, this two-story building would’ve been her home, and the fish market folks her neighbours.

In another life, would she ever have somehow discovered Sand-Dancing if she’d grown up in the Whirlpool City?

… I wanna go home.

Her lips twisted, her eyes watered, and she had to force herself to turn away from the old Vellamira household.

I’m sure the city’s pretty and all, but… I wanna see mama again.

I can’t be completely sure the Harbour Imperators are really gonna get the vial of healing seawater to her, after all.

[They will if they activate a Blackwing Courier for you. Those couriers are trained experts from the far east, and they do not deliver messages and parcels for just about anyone. If the Imperators are mobilising a courier, then you can be certain your mother will receive the vial before anyone in the city can even reach the halfway point of the Deepwater Legion Front.]

And if they don't plan on keeping their word? How will I know if the courier's actually going to be sent?

[Trust Victor. He is an Arcana Hasharana. The man may play with words, but he does not lie.]

How am I supposed to trust them? They–

[You are not in a position to talk about trust, Marisol,] the Archive said plainly. [Simply put, the Imperators in charge of the city are much, much more powerful than you. They could refuse to entertain your requests. They could have you killed at any given point if they decide you are a threat to the city—and you have certainly given them reason to believe so—which means if you do not cooperate with them, you might very well be tossed into a cell and never see the light of day again.] Then the Archive turned atop her shoulder to stare at her pointedly. [You have been able to move freely the past few months, but you forget that humanity is in a losing war against the Swarm. Frankly, the Imperators do not have time to actually care if your mother dies or not. Men die every single day in the Deepwater Legion Front, and some of them are even more promising than you in terms of their potential as a warrior. The very fact that Victor, a man from an external organisation with actual authority in this city, is still choosing to stand up for you has to mean something.]

[You do not have to trust the Imperators. As an Archive of the Altered Swarmsteel Systems, designed by the Hasharana, I will be the first to say none of the Swarmsteel Fronts serve 'humans' before they serve 'humanity'. Even the Hasharana, when pushed to the brink, will sacrifice people if it means the greater good for the rest of humanity.]

[But I know Victor, and if nobody else, you can at least know your mother will be in good hands.]

[After all this, are you still going to try to escape?]

...

[Weigh the options, Marisol.]

[Victor's Blackwing Courier will definitely reach your mother with the parcel within two months, while it will definitely take you more than two months to even get strong enough to escape from the city under the Imperator's watchful eyes, let alone make it back across the Deepwater Legion Front as a fugitive.]

[Have you been fighting the past ten years to protect your pride, or have you been fighting for your mother?]

“... And it ain't like we ain't gonna let you go home at all,” Victor said, and his voice made her whirl; the bandaged man was leaning against a stack of crates with a bottle of ale in his hands, and he took a swig by pouring the ale right through his bandages as she scowled. “Sorry about the wait. Took me... a while to put things in order, what with the... Harbour Guard you punched... and the prison cell I cut through. Right now, though… the reason why we can’t let you leave… well, there’s many reasons… but the main thing is–”

“–finish your drink first–”

“–we could use your help,” he finished, tossing the glass bottle into a back alley where it shattered faintly. “No matter what anyone says about you, you did kill the Mutant shrimp without any formal training. That makes you an asset in the Imperators’ eyes, but I ain’t gonna let them have full control over you—you’ll be helping us out as an acting Hasharana for as long as you’re in the city. That gives you a considerable degree of freedom most Imperators don’t have, while also getting most of the benefits that come with being an Imperator. How about it, then? Wanna help us out?”

“...”

She scowled even deeper as he crossed his arms, waiting for the response he already knew he was going to get.

Just to make him a little uncomfortable, though, she decided to ask a few questions.

“What if I don’t wanna help?”

“Then we don’t let you leave. The Imperators still want to detain and interrogate you. They don’t trust you all that much, you see.”

“But if I help, they’ll trust me?”

“The extent of your cooperation goes as far as helping us stabilise the city by bringing down ‘Black Storm’" he said. "Once the current danger passes and the Imperators deem it is safe for vessels to leave and enter the city, I’ll make sure they let you leave on the first ship back to the continent. They won’t be able to argue much if you literally help them quell a major disaster.”

“And what does ‘stabilise the city’ mean, exactly?”

He smirked under his bandages as he pushed off the crates, trudging slowly up the main street while beckoning her to follow.

“You’ll be helping the Imperators figure out what Corpsetaker and his Four Lesser Leviathans are planning by calling bugs from all over the great blue to the city,” he said. “But first, you gotta meet the Imperatrix in Lighthouse Seven. He wants to know if you’ve got what it takes to join the Imperators on their dives into the whirlpool.”