Trash & Recycling Drop Off Locations Waste Management

"Alright, Jack. Are you ready?"
After being strapped down by the orderlies, an older gentleman with a white coat stepped over and looked down at me as my back caressed the cold, metal slab I was fastened to. I presumed this was Doctor Covenwood, the lab's head of operations.
"Uhhh... I guess so."
This was risky business. I would be humanely injected and gassed with various chemicals to render me medically dead. Then, I would be revived to report my findings as part of a study on near-death experiences and the afterlife. If I survived, $5,000 would be deposited into my bank account as payment.
"Don't worry, Jack. We've done this dozens of times so far and have yet to lose a single soul. You'll be fine."
I know what you're thinking and you're right; this was not legal by any stretch of the imagination. No one in their right mind would have even agreed to participate in such a study, but I was truly desperate. The pandemic left me jobless and the bills were piling up. An old college buddy who works for the lab knew about my situation and reached out to recruit me for the project.
"Alright, Jack. I'll be in the next room behind the one-way glass. You'll be able to hear me over the intercom. Once we start, there's no going back. This is your last chance. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?"
I mulled it over for a moment, but the choice was clear. There were certainly other options at my disposal for recouping my financial losses, but that wasn't the only reason I agreed to take part in the study. The real reason I was risking my life ran much deeper than that.
"Let's do it, Doctor."
A smile spread across his face.
"That's the spirit!"
Doctor Covenwood scurried out to the control room and fired up the intercom as quick as he could, probably to get the ball rolling before I changed my mind.
"Remember, Jack, you'll only be gone for thirty seconds, then we'll bring you back. Still, it may seem a lot longer to you once you're... well, wherever it is you're going. Time dances to the beat of its own drum in some places. Retain what information you can upon waking and tell us what it is you've seen."
I nodded at the camera hanging above me from the ceiling.
"Alright, Jack. This is it. See you on the other side."
***
I remembered bracing myself for death, but it's all fuzzy after that; bits and pieces of memory floating in a vast ocean of consciousness. I can only recall the sensation of falling and the occasional voice whispering in my ear, though I could not for the life of me make out what it was saying. When I finally came to, the scene in front of me took form and revealed my surroundings.
However inexplicable it may seem, I was in what appeared to be the lobby of a large building. There were hardwood floors, lavish staircases, and gorgeous rays of light flooding the room from tall, stained-glass windows on every side of me. Directly in my line of sight was a desk and what appeared to be a receptionist. He looked up and smiled.
"You must be Jack. Please, come with me."
In an instant, without even getting up from his seat, the man was in front of me. Before I could react, he took me by the arm and we appeared somewhere upstairs by the balcony in front of a door.
"Here you are - Room 371. The Overseer will see you now."
And just like that, he vanished again.
Thanks. I guess.
Overwhelmed by everything, I didn't enter the room right away and instead leaned over the railing and surveyed the area. That's when I noticed a plethora of shelves lining the walls, each with their own collection of jars; a soft light emanating from within. I wanted to study them further, but was cut off by a booming voice that echoed through the hall.
"Come in, Jack. I haven't got all day."
It was coming from Room 371. Not wishing to further test the patience of whatever being was summoning me, I opened the door and walked in.
"Please, Jack. Have a seat."
Sitting at a desk in the room was a clean-cut man in turn-of-the-century attire, gesturing at the chair in front of me.
I sat and the man stared me down. If he was trying to intimidate me, it was working.
"Alright. On with it. I know you must have questions. Fire away."
He was right. I did.
"Where are we?"
He chuckled.
"You humans are so predictable. Well, for lack of a self-descriptor, this is what you would refer to as the hereafter - a place where all souls go upon expiration."
"So Heaven is... a cathedral?"
He chuckled again.
"Who said anything about Heaven? There is no good or bad place, just this. And no, it's not a cathedral. It appears different to every departed soul. You see it as a cathedral, another might see it as a monastery, or even a small cottage tucked away in the hills. Whatever peaceful scenery makes the transition easier."
He adjusted himself in his chair, raised his hand, and lifted a single finger.
"One more question, Jack. Then we move on to more pressing matters."
This was my chance. The reason I was there in the first place.
"Can I see my wife and daughter?"
He didn't expect that, turning his chair to face me.
"Ahh, I see. Now I understand. Is that why you joined Doctor Covenwood's little study group? That I wouldn't have predicted."
He saw the surprise in my expression.
"Oh yes, Jack. I know all about the good doctor and his trials. He works for us."
My surprise turned to confusion.
"Works for you? What do you mean?"
The Overseer raised his hand again and snapped his fingers. All at once we were transported to another space. It was small and white. Too white. And the lighting was strange. Brighter than your average room, but still dimmer than a hospital. It was off-putting. To make matters worse, I was strapped to another table, completely immobile in the center of the room. The Overseer stood by and picked up tools from a rolling cart. Needles, blades, among other sharp utensils.
"I can't believe a human would risk his own life on the off-chance he might be reunited with loved ones. It's admirable, I suppose, but no, Jack, you will not see Charlotte and Leslie. We have far more important business to attend to."
My heart was pounding. I had no idea what he was up to, but I knew it couldn't be anything good.
"What's going on? What are you doing?"
He cracked a smile.
"Well, Jack, what the good doctor failed to let you in on was that our agreement involves him sending us wayward souls. In exchange, we offer him information about our world."
He walked around to the opposite side of me with the cart and pushed it up against the table. I winced and let out a small scream. He laughed.
"You see, Jack, human souls are a delicacy here. The taste is so... intoxicating."
He closed his eyes and trembled.
"We were never meant to devour souls, but we've been hear for so long. Billions of years. Maybe more. We, like all things, need stimulation. To that end, we face but one obstacle. The pesky laws of this realm dictate that we can neither lie nor take what isn't ours. It's a failsafe of the Creator's design, put in place to keep us from harming you, making it physically impossible to extract your soul without consent. You must give it to us willingly."
Though frightened, I mustered up enough courage to respond.
"Why would I do something like that?"
He replied with a horrible grin.
"That's the beauty of our arrangement. When a normal soul dies, we give them the option. Let us cut you open and take your soul, or live in a jar for all eternity. There's almost no incentive to hand it over, so almost everyone chooses the latter option. In your case, your time isn't up. The doctor is waiting on the other side to revive you, but I won't let him unless you give me what I want! Time will remain still until your soul is mine. Your thirty seconds will never end."
He licked his lips in anticipation.
"If you want to go back, just say the word. Otherwise, get comfortable."
It was a lot to process. Still, none of it mattered. Seeing my wife and daughter again was the only thing keeping me going. Knowing that I couldn't be with them eliminated any incentive I would have had to continue living.
"No. You can't have it. I'll stay."
His smile vanished as he threw the cart and grabbed me by the shoulders, placing his face directly over mine. His eyes were now red and his mouth full of dagger-like teeth that overlapped one another in a grotesque pattern.
"You will give me your soul and I will rip away every last fiber of your flesh to get it."
He dug a silver blade into my chest and drooled over the wound. It was like battery acid. Worse than any pain I had ever felt before. I screamed in agony. He backed away, wiped his chin, and his face returned to normal.
"Sorry about that. I got a little carried away. Still, you will agree to my terms, or suffer further torment."
The pain was immense, but I would not bow to him.
"No. I refuse."
His grin returned.
"You misunderstand, Jack. The torture you will experience is not of a physical nature."
He snapped his fingers and we were transported again, somewhere else entirely.
***
I was alone, in a familiar forest; one just outside town where we liked to camp from time to time. The sun was setting as the evening drew near. The air was still and the wildlife quiet.
This was the night they died.
"What do you think, Jack? I'd say it looks almost identical."
The Overseer appeared before me.
"What the hell is this?"
His lips stretched wide across his cheeks.
"Just a recreation of the events that led up to your family's death."
I looked at him in disbelief.
"You remember, don't you? You were out here gathering firewood while they played by the lake."
A tear rolled down my cheek.
"Stop it!"
He continued.
"When Leslie fell, bumped her head on the dock, and then sank deep beneath the water? Charlotte called out to you, but you were nowhere to be found."
It happened as he spoke of it.
"Jack, she fell in. Jack, help! Oh my god, she's unconscious. Jack!"
Just as I did that night, I dropped the branches in my hand and ran as fast as I could towards the lake. Recreation or not, I couldn't ignore my family.
"Your wife jumped in to save her, but her legs were far too weak to swim."
The Overseer appeared at every tree I passed, his voice staying with me every step of the way.
"The physical therapy worked wonders, but she had only been out of her wheelchair for a month."
He was right. On her way to work, Charlotte was struck by a drunk driver. She survived, but her spine suffered a lot of damage. The doctors weren't sure she would walk again. This camping trip was supposed to be a celebration. It was the first thing Charlotte wanted to do when she was upright again.
"Stop it, you bastard!"
Charlotte continued to call out for me.
"Jack! Jack!"
Her voice was muffled by the water she was treading. There was a sickening gurgle in between her outbursts; a gut wrenching sound that haunted my every nightmare for months to come and rang in my ears even after waking.
"You arrived at the lake, but it was too late."
I ran over, tears wetting my face, and pulled Charlotte and Leslie from the water. The Overseer stayed close and observed. I tried my best to administer chest compressions and CPR, but it was no use. My girls were dead, and I could do nothing but sob over their corpses.
"Alright, Jack. Time for Round 2!"
The Overseer snapped his fingers and we were back in the forest. Soon enough, I heard Charlotte's voice, once again crying out for help. To my dismay, the sequence of events had begun again.
I turned to the Overseer, standing by my side, and took a swing, but there was no connection. My fist stopped inches from his smug face, halted by an unseen force. He cackled in response.
"Why are you doing this?!"
"You know why, Jack! Give me your soul, or submit to this existence! You will be stuck here forever, left to relive the worst night of your life again and again!"
I ran to the lake. Faster this time. Still, when I arrived, they were gone.
"That's right, Jack. No matter what happens, this will be the conclusion. You will never make it in time. Never."
We appeared back in the forest.
"What will it be, Jack?"
I ran again. The Overseer followed.
"No. I won't do it. I can save them, this time. I know I can."
The Overseer's eyes became red as he moved from tree to tree.
"THEN SUFFER!"
Charlotte continued to call out for me, I continued to run. After it was done, it started again. And again. And again. All the while, the Overseer stayed and watched and laughed. Eventually, I cried myself dry. I pressed on anyway, determined to save them, even if it was all part of an elaborate illusion. I needed this. More than the Overseer knew.
Eventually, he interrupted.
"Stop, Jack."
I ignored him at first.
"Jack, stop."
I ran as fast as I could, Charlotte's voice as my beacon, well on my way to another lakeside funeral.
"STOP, NOW!"
The Overseer stepped in front of me. The scene around us vanished. We were now surrounded by darkness; a mysterious place devoid of any and all light.
"If you truly insist on continuing this run down memory lane, then I think it's time we changed some things. Have fun, Jack. This will be your life now."
He snapped his fingers and I was back in the woods. This time, I was completely alone and a dark fog hung above the forest's canopy, cloudy and still. Focused, I ran past the trees, but Charlotte's voice never met my ear.
Something was amiss.
***
I arrived at the lake moments later and was greeted with the usual, horrific sight. Charlotte and Leslie, face-down on the surface of the water. I pulled them out, as I had so many times before, but something changed when their bodies touched the shore.
They stood up.
Charlotte and Leslie's lifeless bodies now stood upright before me, eyes darker than the deep abyss they were pulled from. Water spilled from their mouths as they walked toward me. Charlotte then spoke.
"You killed us, Jack. You killed us."
I backed away in terror, sobbing the whole way.
"Charlotte, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Leslie stepped ahead.
"Why didn't you save me, Daddy?"
I fell to my knees as they approached.
"I love you both so much and miss you terribly. Please forgive me. I never meant for this to happen."
Charlotte leaned over and put a cold hand on my head.
"You lived. You don't deserve forgiveness on top of that."
She pressed her lips to mine and the taste of death coated my tongue. I tried to disconnect, but she forced me against her with brute strength, her arms wrapped tightly around my head. Then, she began sucking the air from lungs.
Leslie chimed in.
"This is how we felt, Daddy. We couldn't breathe. Now you can be like us."
I struggled and struggled, but couldn't break free. Just before losing the last drop of air in my lungs, something happened. It was faint at first, but then grew to an audible whisper. I recognized it as it crept into my ear. It was the same disembodied voice that followed me to the afterlife. I could now tell that it was that of Charlotte. The real Charlotte.
Save us, Jack.
I didn't know what she meant.
Please, Jack. You have to make a deal with the Overseer.
Make a deal. Okay. I could do that.
By some miracle, I was able to rip myself away and inhale as much oxygen as I could in one breath. Then, before the corpses could attack again, I called out to the Overseer.
"Okay! I'm ready to bargain."
The dead versions of Charlotte and Leslie vanished. The sky opened up, revealing a full moon. Its dim light soaked small ripples in the lake as the Overseer walked up from behind.
"Had a change of heart, have we?"
I took another deep breath. Charlotte's whisper was still with me, guiding me the rest of the way.
He can't lie. Ask him some questions.
"Okay, I'll give you my soul, but first, I have questions."
He rolled his eyes.
"Fine. On with it then."
Ask him about the jarred souls. What he does with them.
"What do you do with the souls once they're jarred?"
He squinted at me, suspiciously.
"Where is this coming from, Jack?"
I was firm in my reply.
"Just answer me."
He clenched his teeth.
"Fine. For the most part, they stay, untouched, in their jars, on their shelves. But... sometimes... we take them out and ask again for consent."
Ask how.
"How do you do that? Torture?"
His eyes widened at the word.
"Of course, Jack. What other way is there?"
Ask about us.
"What about Charlotte and Leslie then? Do you torture them?"
He leaned in and snickered.
"Yes. The same as I'm torturing you now. They relive this night just as you have. Your wife is strong, but I'll break her. Then they're souls will be mine, just as yours will be. A matching set if there ever was one."
My blood was boiling. I wanted to lash out, but Charlotte's voice soothed me.
Save us, Jack.
The pieces clicked into place.
"Alright. I'm going to give you a choice."
The Overseer scoffed at me.
"You're going to give me a choice?"
"Yes. I can guarantee you that Charlotte won't give in to your head games and neither will I - not so long as we have each other. You can either keep trying and torture us until the end of time - or, if you have better things to attend to, and I'm sure you do, you can let me go."
He looked shocked.
"Let you go?"
I continued.
"No more torturing my wife and daughter and allow the doctor to revive me. When I die, my soul is yours to do with as you please. It's the only guarantee that you'll get any of us."
He stood back and pondered for a moment.
"You make a compelling argument Jack. Normally, I wouldn't even consider a deal like this, but I've wasted enough time on you three as it is. As such, here is my counter offer. I'm feeling generous, so I'll offer you two years on Earth with your soul intact and your family will rest during that time. Then, you will die, and I will retrieve all three of your souls. Your familial bond can serve as consent for the lot of you."
There was no way I would accept those terms, but Charlotte's voice chimed in.
Take the deal, Jack. It will be fine. We'll have two years to find a way out of it.
I didn't like it, but I had to listen to my wife. She always knew best.
"Okay. You have yourself a deal."
The Overseer smiled and then snapped his fingers.
***
I awoke in the lab to Doctor Covenwood at my side, tending to the wound in my chest, left by the Overseer.
"Oh good, you're awake!"
Knowing the hand he played in this, I looked up at him in disgust.
"I know. I know. I'm sorry, Jack. It's just the way it has to be. This research is vital to the progression of mankind."
He finished bandaging me up, undid my straps, and backed away, probably expecting a fist to the face.
"You're just lucky I was able to make a deal with the Overseer to protect my family."
I stood up and Doctor Covenwood stepped out and into the control room, opting to speak through the intercom.
"Actually, Jack, that was all a part of the plan. One soul at a time used to cut it, but as of late, the Overseer wants more."
He let out a loud sigh before continuing.
"There's no way out of this, I'm afraid. In two years time, you'll be done for. I hope you understand."
The sound of tapping away at a keyboard came through the speaker, followed by a voice. Charlotte's voice.
"Save us, Jack."
My heart sank.
"I used old recordings of your wife and created a simple program that would allow me to alter my voice to sound like hers. Everything I said over the intercom, you were able to hear on the other side. I'm so sorry, Jack."
Oh my god. What have I done?

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The sound of the cutting bars was loud, the city hushed even as it wailed in pain. Each time the powered cutting bars (Mark II) ripped through the tree rapidly, felling it. Mal-Kar and Karelesh used cutting bars given to them by a Terran to cut the trees into smaller lengths. Lu'ucilu'u and I used stick-on graviton lifters and a tractor-pressor beam to move the logs to the sides of my tank, the sides of the two buses, the sides of the combat grav-lifters. There other members of my work crew tied them to the sides with heavy cargo straps.
Several of the civilians manning "Refit Point Delta" were filling sandbags, working tirelessly to shovel dirt into sacks that they tied off and stacked. The sandbags were passed from person to person in a living chain, to be put upon the vehicles as one more layer of armor. They were stacked on the sides of grav-lifters, my tank, and secured with endosteel cargo netting. They were layered two layers thick inside the hoverbuses, with panels of endosteel plating in between the two layers.
Which was why both buses had Terran grav-lifters welded to the side to help lift the massive public transports.
A white flash made everything go flat seeming as the shadows vanished. The rumble came next, the shockwave moving the trees back and forth.
ATOMIC ATOMIC ATOMIC flashed in my vision right before another white flash lit the sky.
The civilians and what few military I had with me ignored it, continuing their work.
A N'Kar who had been a servant for a Most High was half out from under hover-fan three's skirt. Cables went from the power plugin on a nearby grav-lifter and vanished under my tank, allowing the N'Kar to weld a patch to the hoverfan skirt to fix a hole blown in it by Precursor fire.
I leaned forward and rested my head against the battlesteel of my tank, closing my eyes and feeling exhaustion fill me.
I had been awake for twenty hours since I had left the medical clinic and led my men into the burning city again.
Twenty more hours in the burning hellscape that had been a living city.
Five thousand people sealed into the bunkers even as they cried out to me to not entomb them below the earth.
But so many dead were sprawled in the streets, half-visible from collapsed buildings, or reduced to a smear on the wall.
You cannot save them all, Ha'almo'or, the matron's voice came back to me.
No, but I can try, I told her in my mind.
"Most High, eat," Feelmeenta urged me, tugging on my lower right arm.
"I am not hungry," I told her.
It was true. I was too exhausted to feel hunger any more.
"Eat," my electronic warfare specialist ordered. She held up a ration bar. "Eat, or I'll tell the Terrans you have been awake for twice as long as you should have been as well as the fact you escaped from the hospital."
I sighed, taking the ration bar and peeling the plas off of it. It wasn't Great Herd standard. The wrapper was brown, with a picture of a smiling Lanaktallan matron on the wrapper and the words "Goody Yum Yum Bar" on the side.
The Matron was in charge of making sure that the colts, fillies, calves, and wounded were all seen to. A Terran had asked her to smile real quick and then her image had appeared on the package the next time I had been handed a ration bar.
I'd seen the Terrans of the Sustainment Battalion pull them out of their fabulous nanoforges by the box, each box containing thousands of bars.
The bar was good. Rough coarse grain seed and dough, some kind of sweet and chewy center. It filled my first stomach, easing the dull pain, and I felt energy return to my body.
"Do we have any targets or is it another sweep?" I asked, taking another bar and opening it.
This one tasted of berries, was white with a center of sweet and thick crumbly dough.
It was the best thing I had ever tasted.
"Another sweep," Feelmeenta told me. She held up a canteen and I gratefully took it, drinking deep, enjoying the slight tart citrus flavor.
It was such little things, that the Terrans did and we were emulating, that made life bearable.
ATOMIC ATOMIC ATOMIC
I hardly noticed the flash, the rumble, of the gentle push of the shockwave that made the treetop sway.
Two civilians I did not know exited the interior of my tank. The waste reclaimation system had failed, leaving the crew compartment thick with dung on the floor. I had helped scoop it out with sheets of plas during the day.
When we had arrived the two civilians, both Telkan, had gone in with pressure washers.
The N'Kar slid out from under the hoverfan, nervously rubbing his skin. "It should hold, Most High," he said. His voice was soft and submissive, like all of his people, but I could see the determination to do a job well done in his eyes.
"I thank you," I told him. "Once we leave will you be going to the shelters?"
He shook his head. "No. We will stay. We have guns now, given to us by the Terrans, as well as battlescreen projectors to protect this place. We will stay here, in case you need us."
The makeshift ambulance nosed its way into the clearing, settling down with the snarl of badly tuned graviton lifters. The back lowered and the filly from the first day clopped down. Gone was the uncertainty of youth, she moved with her head high, one hand on her medical bag, and she surveyed the area like a lord of old.
Two Goodbois and a Simba moved with her, the Goodbois on either side and the Simba behind her. All of them had the holographic light to make them look furry and somewhat harmless.
I had seen the twin linked rapid fire autocannons on the back of a Simba rip apart a Precursor war machine ten times the Simba's side with less than three seconds of fire. I had seen a Goodboi fire missiles at a Precursor air striker, knocking it out of the sky in a greasy explosion and rain of burnt and blackened metal, seen them fire the heavy tribarrel that had risen out of their back to destroy Precursor machines.
I had also seen them search out survivors in a collapsed building.
Like all things Terran, looks were deceiving.
When she saw me she trotted up to me even as I unwrapped another Goody Yum Yum bar.
"You will hold still, Most High," she said. Her voice was raspy, the voice of an older Matron, and her old eyes were red from exhaustion, but still her eyes and voice were steady.
"As you wish," I told her.
She ran the scanner over my lower abdomen and where my upper torso joined my lower body.
"Your heart is in good condition. The cyberware reports no cardiac events," she said, drawing up. "Your bloodwork looks good and your vitals are excellent once exhaustion and combat has been accounted for. How are the eyes?"
"Good. I am used to them now," I told her.
"And your foot?" she asked, pointing at the cybernetic replacement for my hoof.
"Still slightly heavy to my senses," I said.
She nodded slowly. "That it to be expected. You are cleared for duty, Most High Ha'almo'or."
"I thank you," I told her.
"Ambulance One is ready to deploy with you," she said. She trotted around to face the makeshift ambulance with "GREAT HERD EMERGENCY MEDICAL SERVICES" painted on the side with blue paint stick. She turned at the waist to look at me. "Do not attempt to argue with me, Most High."
"I welcome your efforts," I told her.
She could feel my sincerity and nodded. A nod of a Matron far older then the teenager I had seen on the first day crying over the dead.
She trotted back to the makeshift ambulance, the Goodbois and the Simba following her.
Again, the warning, followed by a rapid fire series of detonations.
The Terrans were, to use their own words, 'giving the clankers Hell' out there, pushing them back step by bloody step from the cities even as they sent into the cities their power armor infantry and tanks in with Most High A'armo'o's tanks in order to clear out the Precursor Autonomous War Machines.
"Your tank's ready," the two Telkan said. They were wearing plastic coveralls over heavy laborer coveralls to keep from getting wet.
"Thank you, both," I told them.
The two Telkan made motions of embarrassment before they shuffled off, carrying their power washer and the water tanks with them.
I clopped up the ramp, settling into the combat couch. I leaned forward and pushed my face against the gunner's sight. I activated the tank's systems and felt it come to life around me as my faithful crew climbed in, the power ramp whining as it raised, the load of sandbags attached to the outside face providing more weight than the motors were used to.
I ignored the smell of burning metal.
Mal-Kar drove the tank out of the spot in the woods, weaving between the camo nets hanging between the trees. According to the Terrans they would scatter LIDAR and RADAR and prevent Precursor scanners from spotting anyone in the woods.
We passed holes dug in the ground by determined civilians armed only with shovels. Inside each hole were three or four civilians behind a heavy gun.
There had been plenty that had never been fired and only dropped once for me to arm them with.
As we got further out of the forest/park we saw how the holes had cover. Plas covered with dirt, with firing slits. I could see what I had learned were 'ranging stakes' further out, to let the gunners know the range of any targets.
More than a few of the civilians raised a clench fist to my tank as I drove by, some even calling out my name or the name of one of my crew.
I knew I would be punished for what I had done the night before.
I had armed the neo-sapients. Given them the guns that my own people, my fellow members of the Great Herd, had dropped in panicked flight. Ordered them to 'dig in', showed them how to fight, given them Terran technical documents for digging combat positions by hand, Terran documents on how to use the radio net.
They had put the time to good use and had been very persistent in learning what I was trying to teach them.
'Jawnconnor Time' the Terrans called it.
Mal-Kar had written the name "Timekeeper" on the barrel of our tank. A joke that made sense to us, but probably to none other.
We exited the trees, the hovertank hitting the thickly polluted river, sending up a spray of water to either side of us. The lifters, hoverbuses, and ambulance all followed, the water brown with a thick layer of rainbow oily effluvia on the top. Charred bodies and debris slowly floated in the current.
I put them out of my mind, despite the way it made my chest hurt.
We headed into a gap in the river retaining wall, moving into a massive culvert, the thin layer of water spraying up around us.
A dozen Precursor strikers roared by overhead, chased by Terran strikers and air mobile hovercraft, the shell casings from the Terran vehicles raining down around us, making chiming noises as they bounced off exposed armor or the ferrocrete of the culvert.
"Eyes wide, fingers on the trigger," I said over the tiny battle tactical net I'd managed to get cobbled together. It wasn't much, had the wrong headers to be tied into the planetary network, but it worked for our small force.
A building groaned to the side and began to collapse in on itself, the floors inside falling first, pulling the outside frame and facing in after it. It gave a steady roar as it fell in a strange candle-like plume of ferrocrete dust and twisted endosteel. The fires inside colored the dust and smoke red as the building finally finished collapsing and sent up a massive cloud of debris.
The dust washed over us, making the battlescreens crackle and snap at the attempted intrusion.
One of the crew served kinetic weapons on top of Bus Two opened up with a quick burst. I tensed, waiting, but no "Contact" came over the radio and I knew that the gunner had seen something suspicious and reconned it by shooting it a few times.
If Mal-Kar's Digital Omnimessiah didn't want us to recon by fire he wouldn't have invented triggers.
"Got a public communicator message coming in," Feelmeenta said, sitting up in her chair and putting one hand to the side of her helmet. "Immature Lanaktallan female, a bunch of others, they've got children and wounded. I'm patching in Ambo-One."
"Do you have a fix on their position?" I asked.
"Storm drain, one of the Tukna'rn ripped the grate off and got them inside. They've been there since the first day," Feelmeenta said.
"All units, eyes out, we've got survivors," I said over the comlink. I got back "yeah", "yes, boss", "OK", "affirmative", and "Sure."
My men weren't much on radio discipline and proper radio procedure, but they were the finest men the universe had ever known as they followed me through the smoke and fire of the murdered city.
Mal-Kar's gentle touch on the tank's controls wove a smooth pattern to the storm drain. There were kinetic and plasma and laser impact scars around the drain and someone had pushed dumpsters in front of it. The dumpster had all been shattered by combat.
The ambulance moved in front of the tunnel and lowered the back deck. I saw the filly exit with her Simba and Goodboi escorts.
I grabbed my weapon and hit the stud on my couch, the hatch opening and the couch raising as I cocked the rifle. It wasn't the plasma rifle I had previously held, I had no idea what had happened to it. Instead it was a brutal and ugly Terran weapon that shaved slivers of metal off of a block to create some weird variable munition.
The Terran who had gave it to me had set it to APDSDE (armor piercing discarding sabot density enhanced) and I had seen no reason to change it back.
"Most High," Feelmeenta started to protest.
"I will not allow her to go somewhere I am loathe to step myself," I snapped. "Eyes out, scanners up. Get a recon drone, two weapon drones, and a commo drone up, try to establish communication with Refugee Point Lima."
By the time I had finished my orders I had reached the tunnel entrance and managed to catch up to the filly, who barely acknowledged my presence as I passed her.
The ferrocrete of the tunnel was pitted and scarred, cratered and scorched, by combat. We passed several PAWM carcasses, their bodies damaged by close quarters fighting.
Some of them looked like they had been attacked with a standard vibro-axe carried by emergency services to get through modern hyper-alloys for rescue missions.
There were bodies of Tukna'rn too. Only three, but each one was a dagger in my chest.
"DON'T COME CLOSER I'LL SHOOT!" was suddenly yelled, the words coming so fast that they nearly blended together. Lights came on, illuminating me and my visor kicked in to compensate for the sudden flood of light.
"Gunner Ha'almo'or, Great Herd Emergency Services, we heard your call," I yelled back.
"Please, our friends need a doctor. They're hurt bad," a filly called out.
"Come up here so I can make sure you aren't a clanker in someone's skin," the voice said. They coughed, a wet sound. "Not falling for that again."
The medic touched my arm and I saw displayed on my visor 'collapsed/punctured lung' as she told me her rough diagnosis.
I turned my visor transparent, moving forward. The Tukna'rn was young, barely adolescent, but he had a discarded plasma tri-barrel in his arms, holding like a weaker species would hold a rifle.
"You're a Lanky," he said, using the slang that had seemed to crop up everywhere.
"I am," I said. "Great Herd Emergency Services. We're here to evac you out."
The Tukna'rn nodded, coughing again.
"You first, it's clear," the filly, no, she was no longer a filly. Fire and blood had washed away her youth. The Matron said.
"If Li'itlewu'un says so," the Tukna'rn protested stubbornly.
I nodded and gestured at the Matron Medic. "Let us go in further."
"They're around the corner," the Tukna'rn said, coughing again.
He moved down the passage, normally used for power, sewer, and water maintenance, around the corner, and stopped.
It was one of the bigger rooms. Maybe used for the depression that would normally be a pool of water, maybe just for maintenance crews to gather. Bedding of wadded cloth were around the wall, ammo boxes obviously picked up from abandoned positions scattered around, and boxes of canned food and liquid nutripaste tanks here and there.
A Lanaktallan filly, not much older than the medic, moved up. She clasped her hands, greeting me.
"I am Li'itlewu'un," she said. "Thanks be that you are here."
I looked around slowly. There a Hamaroosan female sat with a vibro-axe that the handle had been cut in half in her lap. There a Telkan female was drinking nutripaste slurry as she let a N'Kar female tie a bandage on her leg.
All around me was suffering, of civilians who had needed my protection and found me wanting.
The Matron Medic touched her helmet and I heard her give orders for others to come in, to carry litters, to clear one of the buses. I repeated her orders, adding my authority to hers.
"We have a refugee point with shelters," I told the filly. "You cannot stay here. The battle has moved to atomic weapons."
"Will we be safe there?" she asked doubtfully.
"The Terrans have arrived and are pushing the Precursors back, although it is still very fluid right now," I told her. Beyond her the Goodbois and the Simbas deployed purrbois even as the Matron Medic moved through the wounded, putting holotags on them that her assistants could read with their visors.
All too many of them were red for urgent care required.
I watched as the wounded were helped out, heading for the bus. The Matron Medic's assistants were on the bus, letting the two of us know that they were treating as fast as possible.
I put a call across the net for Terran medical assistance. Their medics, their SAR, wore armor that the Great Herd would consider heavy combat armor and carried guns that could shatter a Precursor machine with ease.
Less than a third were remaining when I heard a shout from one of the rear tunnels. Gunfire sounded out, echoing strangely in the tunnels.
"They're coming!" someone, it sounded like an immature Akltak, yelled out.
"GET THEM OUT!" I bellowed, charging down the tunnel, my warsteel hoof shedding sparks as I ran.
The two Akltak females were ducked down behind a barrier as I turned a corner. Beyond them I could see Precursor machines rushing down the tunnel toward us.
The two teenagers were only armed with axes.
"Fall back, retreat to the main chamber and follow your leader out," I ordered, lifting up the rifle.
"But what of you?" one asked.
"I will be fine," I told her.
Either they would kill me, or not. Either way, I could buy precious seconds to get the wounded out.
I hit the firing stud and the magnetic accelerator rifle opened up with a roar. Despite the fact it used magnetic force and not chemical propellant, the weapon still flashed at the barrel, a tongue of flame lighting everything up as if it was using propellant.
The heavy magac rounds ripped into Precursors armor, sending one, then another, then another, crashing to the floor of the tunnel in heap.
"We are hurrying, Most High," the Matron Medic told me. I could hear her breathing heavy. "We're loading onto Bus Two."
"I'm coming, Most High," Mal-Kar radioed.
"Negative, hold position. You have to escort the bus back," I snapped, adjusting my fire and raking another machine. "Get the refugees out, damn you!"
"As you command," Mal-Kar replied. I could tell he was unhappy, but I had no time to be concerned as more PAWM drones pushed forward. The rifle was roaring in my hands as I held the trigger down, bracing the butt against one shoulder and using three hands to stabilize it.
Return fire was lashing out at me. Hitting the barrier I was kneeling behind, bouncing off the tunnel walls, ricocheting off my Terran built armor. A hit between my eyes rang my bell but I kept firing, forcing them back with sustained autofire.
My own rifle would have overheated by now, but the Terran weapon's heat bar stayed stubbornly in the low yellow. I would have been out of ammo, but sixty seconds of sustained fire and I still had over 80% of the ammo block left and three more in pouches on my sash.
"THIS TUNNEL IS CLOSED!" I roared out, aiming low, at their treads, their claws, their feet, their legs. The weapon ripped apart battlesteel like tissue paper, the small machines too lightly armored to withstand the fury of the weapon. "THERE ARE LITTLES BEHIND ME AND YOU SHALL NOT PASS ME TO ATTACK THEM!"
A round hit my chest, making me groan, but I fired back, ripping the arms off of the machine. Their dead were piling up high enough now that they had cover as they advanced, some of them pushing their dead in front of them.
I grabbed a grenade off my sash with my lower right hand, pulled the pin with my lower left hand, and side-armed it down the passage even as I kept firing, the weapon less accurate now that I was only holding it with two hands.
The grenade went off with the bright bluish-white snap of antimatter, showering the tunnel with droplets of molten battlesteel and shrapnel. I felt pain in my right flank but didn't care.
"Almost out, two more loads," the filly, no, the Matron, told me.
"GET THEM OUT, DAMN YOUR EYES!" I shouted at her as I grabbed another grenade. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS BY ME!"
My mouth tasted of hot copper and bitterness as I kept shooting. A round glanced off my visor, cracking it, but I paid no heed as I threw the grenade into their midst. It went off with a sharp crack and a gout of liquefied battlesteel sprayed my foreleg.
I did not care.
In or out of a tank, I was the armored bulwark of the Great Herd. None may pass by me and live.
I was the people's will made manifest.
A sudden urge made me duck right before a hypersonic rocket was fired, streaked over my head, and blew a crater the size of my chest out of the wall behind me, showering me with ferrocrete.
I answered the rocketeer with another burst that found something good.
The robot exploded, the flame and wave of shrapnel washing over me.
"Last trip, Most High!" the Matron yelled. I could barely hear her. I was half deaf, but did not care.
I began backing up, throwing my next to last grenade as I did so. My rear eyes could see the passage was clear and I was easily able to navigate it.
But I had to do it step by step, keeping up the fire, the punishment, the denial on the Precursor machines.
They charged as they came around the tunnel and I answered with my last grenade and more fire from my rifle.
"YOU!" I roared out. I grabbed a vibroaxe that someone had left on a box and threw it overhand, knocking over a robot when the handle hit it. I kept backing up.
"SHALL!" I bellowed, spraying them with full auto fire as I entered the now empty room. I kicked over a box of plasma rounds, scattering them across the floor.
"NOT!" I slung a tank of nutripaste into the middle of the floor and put a burst into it, exploding the pressurized tank so that slurry sprayed out.
"PASS!" The machines rushed into the room as I backed into the tunnel that would lead outside.
"BY!" I backed halfway around the corner and changed my aim.
"ME!" The hypervelocity rounds hit the plasma rounds.
They exploded.
The fire shoved me, the blast wave pushing me down the hallway even though I braced my hooves, sparks showering from my hoofshoes as I leaned forward into the blast. Alarms started wailing and the front of my armor flashed yellow on my HUD, but I did not care.
I kept backing up after the blastwave passed me.
"All loaded, get out of there, Most High," Lu'ucilu'u said.
"Leave the back ramp open!" I yelled, managing to whirl around. I turned backwards at the mid-waist, watching in 'front' of me with my rear eyes, firing the rifle as I galloped wildly down the tunnel. My fire wasn't accurate, but they couldn't dodge and I couldn't miss as I fired 'behind' me.
My tank wobbled into sight, barrel facing backwards, the loading ramp down, the rear battlescreen off. Rounds that got by me sparked off the armor of the tank.
I could see the interior of my faithful tank, Timekeeper*, and galloped up the ramp. I let go of the rifle, letting the autosling pull it tight against my right forward flank as I threw myself against the gunner's sight, lifting my cybernetic hoof.*
The shot lined up, aimed at the scarred and battered chassis of the lead robot.
"YOU!" I stomped the firing bar.
The Terran "Enhanced Lanaktallan Plasma Munition Mark IV" detonated.
The loader whined as I lifted my hoof. The back deck loading ramp was whining as it closed.
"SHALL!" I stomped the bar again. The loading ramp was almost halfway up.
"NOT!" again.
The loading ramp thumped into place.
"PASS!" I fired the final shot as Mal-Kar goosed the fans.
We sped after the convoy as I used my gunner's sight to scan the skies.
"We've got them all, Most High Ha'almo'or," the Matron Medic's rough voice told me. "Nineteenth Evac is landing a dropship medivac at the Refit Point Delta. They're bringing in something called man pads"
"We will go there," I said. I was trembling with exhaustion as I waited for the gunner's couch to move into position. When it did, I collapsed into it, breathing heavy.
I rested my head against the gunner's sight, even as I kept my eyes open and watched. My still biological eyes felt grainy, thick, like slightly abrasive gum was filling them every time I blinked.
Within a half hour we reached the Refit Point and Mal-Kar set the tank down. I kicked the button and the loading ramp whined down as I got up from the gunner's couch. I staggered out, looking at the bus that Terrans were running onto.
I watched as wounded were taken from the bus onto the heavy, brutal looking dropship. It was all black and looked almost unfinished, as if the designers had stopped before doing any cosmetic work and said "Meh, good enough."
Perhaps, to the Terrans, it was aesthetically pleasing.
A Hamaroosan female, barely a teenager, marched up to me, her hands clenched.
"I bet you think you're some big damn hero," she snarled.
I shook my head. "You needed me days ago and I was not there."
She seemed taken aback for a second, but she clenched her jaw.
"Riding around in your tank like some kind of lord on high while we were fighting and dying in the tunnels," she snarled.
Mal-Kar started to step up, a Hamaroosan female of older years next to him.
"You don't know what you're..." the Hamaroosan woman said.
I held up my hand. "Let her speak."
"Where were you when we needed you?" the teenager yelled. "Where were you when the clankers came?"
I stayed silent. She did not want to hear my words. She needed me, needed the world, to hear her.
To hear her pain.
"Where were you? Where was the vaunted Great Herd?" she screamed at me, rushing forward. Her little fists hit my armored chest as she pounded on me, tears running from her eyes. "Where were you when they killed my sisters and mother and father and little brothers?"
Her knees buckled and she wilted, crumbling to the ground. I knelt down, putting my arms around her. She tried to push me away, crying, weeping, but I held her tight, rocking her side to side.
"I am here now, little one," I told her as I stood up, lifting her. I carried her toward the medical tent. "I am here now and I will not let them harm you as long as I live."
It started raining. Thick, gummy, black rain.
There was a faint flash, a rumble, and the treetops swayed as I pushed into the tent and handed off the girl, who was holding onto me so tight the Matron and the doctor had to pry her arms off of me.
I headed back to my tank, stopping to grab an ammo block to replace my half used one and eight grenades instead of four.
The tank trembled beneath my hooves as I mounted the loading ramp and clattered to my gunner's couch.
The tank rumbled as we led the way back into the city, the rest of the convoy following me.
There were more who needed me as she had needed me.
--Excerpt From: We Were the Lanaktallan of the Atomic Hooves, a Memoir.
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Artist: Lil Uzi Vert
Albums: Eternal Atake / Lil Uzi Vert vs. The World 2
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Background
Symere Bysil Woods was born on July 31, 1994. Symere had a rather normal childhood. Like many children, Symere’s parents were split up, but he had a healthy relationship with both. Overall, he had a loving, yet somewhat strict, family, attended school and enjoyed cartoons and anime’s. In high school, however, Symere became a bit of an oddball. He enjoyed unconventional music, such as his idol, Marilyn Manson and Paramore among other things, wore fox tails to school and often wanted to stand out in a crowd. Bullied and teased for his music taste and weird tendencies, Symere was as happy as could be, taking pride in being a bit different. Symere’s love for music would even inspire him to play the trumpet in his marching band. Symere would eventually decide to try his hand in hip hop, after seeing the attention and popularity other people, including his friend, William Aston, got from it. Symere would find that he actually was pretty decent at spitting, so Aston invited him to join a rap group he had made with another friend. This group would be known as “Steaktown”, believed to be called that due to Philadelphia’s reputation for cheesesteaks. From here, Symere’s life would forever change. Symere, now going by the name “Sealab Vertical”, actually found that he enjoyed rapping and the type of attention he got with it. Though he loved rapping and had gotten very into the genre, Steaktown broke up, putting a bit of a damper on Symere’s plans. However, don’t let that fool you into thinking he had given up on a hip hop career. Symere knew he had it in him and would not give up on the dream. Symere doubled down on his efforts to become a star, including dropping out of school, quitting a job as a bag boy and even getting tattoos on his face. Symere moved into his grandmother’s place within a nursing home. His grandmother was very supportive of his dream and Symere would constantly upload songs to Soundcloud. One day, a listener to his music on Soundcloud would tell him he sounded like a “Lil Uzi” since he rapped so fast, leading Symere to taking that and combining it with Vert, short for Vertical. However, that combo maybe a double entendre... From here, Lil Uzi Vert was born.
Uzi’s work would finally pay off when DJ Diamond Kuts would hear one of his songs from his first project, Purple Thoughtz Vol. 1. This would lead to Uzi getting one of his songs played on Philly’s Power 99 Station. At this time, Don Cannon was driving around Philly and he would eventually run into this song on the radio. Cannon reached out to Uzi and produced his first mixtape, The Real Uzi. After the release of The Real Uzi, Uzi signed to Atlantic Records through Generation Now. From here, he would go on tour with Fall Out Boy and Wiz Khalifa and feature on many artists’ songs. He had done it. He had achieved the fame he wanted. However, Uzi still wanted that superstar status and would take his next big step towards it by releasing his first big project, Luv Is Rage.
Luv Is Rage was released to a wider audience then Uzi normally got and drew many new people to him. It got very positive reviews and earned Uzi the title of being a breakout star of 2015. The project did feature a much different character then Uzi previously portrayed however. Now, instead of focusing mostly on hip hop exclusively, he set to combine it with styles of other influences he had, such as My Chemical Romance or Nirvana. This new style was very melodic and had a rocker vibe, which many would gravitate towards. Life was great for Uzi. He was making it big, had a hit project, a loving girlfriend by the name of Brittney and a solid fanbase. But this wouldn’t be all, as a few months later, he would release his biggest song yet, Money Longer. Immediately following that, he would release his second big project, Lil Uzi Vert vs. The World, strongly inspired by Scott Pilgram vs. The World.
Vs. The World was a hit. For many, it’s the defining project of 2016 and, among many younger people, is hailed as one of the best mixtapes ever made. Hell, back in 2016, people I knew were only listening to this tape as far as music went and were constantly quoting it. Even my football coach was quoting his lyrics and using random Uzi lines to motivate our team, since he was so popular with people my age. Everyone at my high school was listening to Uzi nearly exclusively and always talking about what he’d do next, as well as constantly posting pictures of him with quotes he never said on Snapchat, before Youngboy had that honor. Yup, those were the days. Uzi, his many watches, Scott Pilgram inspired hair, eccentric fashion choices, melodies and, of course, his girlfriend, Brittney, were and still are absolutely iconic to the year 2016. However, this was only the beginning to an absolutely insane year. Next, Uzi would take part in what is possibly the most legendary XXL Freshman Cypher ever, alongside Denzel Curry, Lil Yachty, 21 Savage and Kodak Black. Many agreed that Uzi was a standout from the cypher and many new fans were drawn to Uzi from it. Also around this time, he was featured on Migos’ smash hit, Bad and Boujee, and also on Future and DJ Esco’s hit, Too Much Sauce. To capitalize on all this, he was dropping constant new songs on his SoundCloud throughout the year, such as fan favorite song Buy It. Things wouldn’t be all good though, as around this time, Uzi would break up with his girlfriend and find that he had many fake friends around him. Regardless, he would then go on to release his second mixtape of 2016, The Perfect Luv Tape. This tape focused much less on vocals and melodies and was mostly a return to rapping. It was a fun and light hip hop tape, that featured many hit songs such as Do What I Want and Erase Your Social. This hype train was far from over, as three months later, Uzi would drop a collab tape with trap legend, Gucci Mane. This tape would be a bit of a spin off of Lil Uzi Vert vs. The World, called 1017 vs. The World. To cap off his legendary 2016, Uzi had a tour with The Weeknd to look forward to. Little did we all know just what that tour would bring and how what would happen next would propel Uzi to absolute superstar status.
Brittney and Uzi’s break up hit him more then he let on. He went through some troubles afterwards, even worsening his drug use. During these hard times, he wrote much more somber songs. One of said songs would find its way to an EP called Luv Is Rage 1.5 (a prequel to his upcoming album, Luv Is Rage 2). The song, called XO Tour Lif3, as a reference to the tour he was on with The Weeknd, would be an absolute smash hit and possibly one of the most iconic songs ever made. This song would popularize what is now known as “Emo Rap”. The style wasn’t new, as it was being done by other artists, such as Yung Lean, Lil Peep and Bones, among others, but it had never been popular on this scale before. After this, Uzi would run with the emo aesthetic as a way to hype up Luv Is Rage 2. Taking massive inspiration from Marilyn Manson, he would put on a devil worshipping front and would go all in with the punk rockstar aesthetic. When released, Luv Is Rage 2 was everything this new aesthetic promised. We got deep cuts detailing his broken relationship, such as The Way Life Goes, songs that showed how much of rockstar he can be, such as Early 20 Rager, personal cuts about his family, such as Dark Queen and even new iconic bangers, such as 20 Min. This album was a hit with the numbers, received positive reviews and is well loved by many. It even would get him nominated for best new artist at the Grammy’s. Uzi was on top of the world. However, some pretty rough times were coming up.
Uzi has a fairly mundane 2018 at first. There were some positive moments to come out of it, such as his hilarious verse on Lil Tracy’s Like a Farmer remix, teasing many iconic snippets and him getting clean after the death of Lil Peep, an artist he greatly admired, but it was mostly a year of us riding the high that 2017 Uzi provided. Uzi would set the rap world on fire when he revealed the cover art for his next album, Eternal Atake. Immediately, everyone was hyped due to the very interesting concept the cover had, in that it was modeled after the Heavens Gate logo. Uzi then started going with a new alien/cult leader type aesthetic, abandoning the devil worshipping punk rockstar aesthetic. That October, Uzi released, what was at the time, the first single from the album. This song, called New Patek, was a six minute banger teased in an iconic snippet and was universally praised and hailed as one of his best songs. The world was watching. Everyone was expecting a legendary album to dropped.
Then we waited. We waited a long time. Well, turns out there was behind the scenes drama going on with the making of this album. Uzi, DJ Drama and Don Cannon all had a falling out, as they wouldn’t let him release it. On top of that, the remainder of the Heavens Gate cult was threatening Uzi with a lawsuit. Uzi even briefly retired from rap. Hell, recently we learned there was an album he was making with Pharrell that was scrapped in all this chaos. Also, I’m pretty sure that his anticipated tape with Playboi Carti, 16*29, was scrapped in this time, unless I’m mistaken. On top of this, rumors say that he had some pretty bad drama going on with his step brother who allegedly murdered someone. It was a mess. This would all cumulate in Uzi dropping a track called “Free Uzi” which turned into a campaign supported by multiple people. Worst part is that a lot of tracks, many of which are hailed as Uzi’s very best songs, from the Eternal Atake sessions leaked, pretty much destroying any chance of getting the OG album. Two of those leaks, Sanguine Paradise and That’s a Rack, were eventually officially released, however. 2018 and early 2019 were hard on Uzi. Many wondered if he’d ever be able to get back on his feet. Fortunately, JAY-Z stepped in and “freed” Uzi, signing him to Roc Nation. After this, Uzi still withheld the album. He teased it many times, but it never would release. Fans then wondered if it’d ever drop. Most just gave up hope that it was even real anymore. Eternal Atake was looked at as the new Detox. Dead in the water, just another scrapped album.
Then something happened. Uzi dropped a new song, Futsal Shuffle 2020, claiming it was Eternal Atake’s first single. Yeah, okay. He’s probably capping. Then a couple months later he dropped That Way, a song with an amazing Backstreet Boys sample and said it was from Eternal Atake. Again, yeah sure. Then in February of 2020 he said Eternal Atake would drop in two weeks. Nobody really took it seriously. Then he dropped a high budget trailer, returning to the alien cult leader aesthetic in the process. Okay, it’s getting interesting. He then let the fans pick out the new cover for Eternal Atake. Could this be real? Then three days later he dropped it early. Eternal Atake was not only real, but it was here. Then, the next week, Uzi promised a deluxe with all the grails people begged for. He then revealed that it was not only a deluxe, but a second half to Eternal Atake, this half being a sequel to his album Lil Uzi Vert vs. The World. Two Uzi albums in one year. One being one of the most hotly anticipated albums ever and the other a sequel to a beloved mixtape that some consider a classic.
Nowadays, Symere Woods is one of the most iconic artists there is. Known for his now many face tattoos, constantly changing hairstyles, crazy outfits and wide ranging music. He is an icon, he stands out in the crowd, he has a very interesting look, a unique sound and he has a devoted fan base. Uzi is now the king of the world. But in a new world where COVID-19 ran rampant, Uzi thrived as a major source of entertainment in these times. He is often said to have carried 2020 on his back even. But is this statement true? Were the releases that good? Did they live up to the hype? Are they even worth a listen?
Review Part 1: Eternal Atake
I would like to apologize for going so hard on that background. However, I feel it is completely necessary to detail Uzi’s entire story for this project. This is what Uzi’s entire career has lead up to. Every single move Symere Woods has made these last few years all cumulated in this project. This project can be viewed to Uzi what Tha Carter 3 was to Lil Wayne and what DS2 was to Future. It marks the climax of a rising star and will set expectations in both fans and the mainstream for where Uzi’s career will go to next. Also forgive me if I got some events out of order.
I think I should clarify this. I was a pretty big hater of Uzi’s this time last year. I thought his music was subpar and had not heard a whole lot of it. However, Eternal Atake changed that. When I went in not expecting something that had a massive concept and lyricism, I was greeted with a very versatile, yet consistent body of work that had a pretty slick concept and story. I would later find more music of Uzi’s with some substance and more to say on other projects, but I think here he very smartly just sticks to having a blast and taking the audience on an upbeat trip through his world. This is not a darker project with some deeper cuts in there like Luv Is Rage 2 was, this is just Uzi in his most fun loving form yet. Some fans will not like that, as they wanted a more hard hitting Uzi like we got last time around, however, I think it was the way to go for this project, as it not only creates a nice parallel to Uzi’s last major release, but it also helped to have some upbeat music amidst the Coronavirus, racial injustices, riots, etc. It was the album I felt we needed and to make life a little bit better in the trying times. On top of that, this album is a huge release for Uzi and would definitely serve as an introduction for thousands of new fans and I think him doing music he’s completely confident in and that is easier to digest and jam to is the way to go. The more serious topics can wait for a future release, for now it’s all about making a banger of an album and giving the audience a good time.
The album does have a story to it that is told through skits. The story is about Uzi being abducted by aliens, encountering a cult on the ship, while trying to escape. The cult may symbol how he has a “cult following”, which is hinted at in a song in the second half of the album. It’s a pretty unique concept and is fun, I also appreciate that he put the extra effort in. While Uzi is messing around in the ship, he travels to different world trying to make it home, each one he travels to introduces a different persona.
We start the album with the persona of “Baby Pluto”. Baby Pluto is the persona Uzi has seemed to have stuck with for most of 2020 as well, especially on then upcoming his collabs with big Pluto himself, Future. Baby Pluto is the Uzi of 2012-2014. Focused on fast flows, this version of Uzi has very little melodies and is just focused on making fast paced and breakneck bangers. The standouts of this section of the album include the Baby Pluto title track, the very catchy Lo Mein and You Better Move, which, in classic Uzi fashion, samples Space Cadet Pinball. Baby Pluto is a much more traditional rapper then the upcoming personas. Another key to this persona is that it’s production feels very over the top and very frantic. Uzi claims this is sound like a spaceship blasting off which I can definitely see. This persona ultimately concludes once we reach Homecoming, a banger of a track consisting of disco type production. Also, before I forget, we have to mention POP and it’s infamous “Balenci” lyrics. I mean, hey, the album wouldn’t be complete without a meme arising from it, so I think it can slide. And just like that, the album starts with a bang, or perhaps a pop (sorry I had to). All the songs are memorable and all of them are hits. After this, Uzi travels to a new planet, entering his new persona, Renji.
The Renji persona has a higher pitched voice, combines faced paced rapping and some melodies and goes over much more cartoonish production. In this section, we are greeted to some absolutely fantastic tracks such as Celebration Station, which seems to be a sound Uzi likes replicating on other songs post Eternal Atake, Prices, a Travis Scott sampling epic, which is by far the best song on here to me and also Bust Me. This Renji persona seems to exist as a way to satisfy all types of Uzi fans. The ones who want melodic and more emotional Uzi will enjoy Chrome Heart Tags and I’m Sorry, while fans of faster paced and more fun loving Uzi will enjoy Celebration Station, Bigger Than Life, Prices and Bust Me. Speaking of I’m Sorry, Uzi briefly returned to his emo roots for that song, which is sure to be enjoyable for fans of that style, however I appreciated how he kept it cheeky, as it seems he was apologizing to his fans for the long wait as well. The production on this section of the album is much more relaxed sounding ranges from light and bubbly, such as on Celebration Station, to downright epic, such as on Prices, but I never feel that it doesn’t feel consistent, as none of them are beats that feel overly aggressive. With the end of Prices, Uzi crash lands back on Earth. This time we enter a new persona, the one and only, Lil Uzi Vert.
Lil Uzi Vert is the Uzi we all know and love. High pitched melodies, such as Venetia, mixed with more raspy melodies, such as Secure The Bag. This is classic and also new melodic Uzi presented together in a nice harmony. However, the standout to me is Urgency, an absolutely fantastic song with a feature from Syd), a very talented singer who was a member of legendary hip hop group Odd Future, along with the likes of Tyler The Creator, Earl Sweatshirt and Frank Ocean. Here we get every type of melodic Uzi presented in one song. We hear the raspy voiced one, the high pitched one and the more mellow sounding one. Uzi presents all his vocal ranges here, presenting an insanely catch hook and also a pretty solid rapping verse. Syd then stops by for a pretty nice verse as well as harmonizing with Uzi. To me, this song feels like a spiritual successor to The Way Life Goes, but I can’t place my finger on why. The second stand out here is Venetia, with its fast paced raps and the infectiously delightful “yeah yeah” adlibs, along with an album best verse in its second verse. Secure The Bag also sticks out, with Uzi’s yelling raspy voice, taking us back to the Luv Is Rage 1 days. Then we conclude with Uzi making it to shore and saying that he has to drop the album as he was missing for too long on that ship, a cheeky way of explaining why he hasn’t released, and then we go to the next track, P2. P2 is the sequel to XO Tour Lif3, bringing us full circle back to Uzi’s big breakout hit. This time, however, Uzi seems content with the breakup, he seems happier with it. I think this song shows us that Uzi has accepted that him and Brittney didn’t work and that he’s done with the hard feelings he held in the first part, while also presenting us with a full circle conclusion for the album. The album then ends with Uzi thanking his fans.
The next two bonus tracks are the singles released, That Way and Futsal Shuffle 2020. I like that they’re here as bonuses. Both are very good, especially That Way. As for Futsal Shuffle, it’s a very weird song that sounds like a trashy 2007 pop track, but Uzi makes it work as a throwback. The dance it inspired was alright too I guess, glad to see people had fun with it. I’m glad both songs still made the tracklist, as I feel they both are worthy enough to be on it, even if it’d be hard to place them in one of the album’s sections.
A fantastic album. A great sampler or what Uzi has to offer that also feels consistent and like a coherent album. All going along with a pretty engaging story. The album actually reminds me a good bit of Uzi’s XXL Freshman classmate, Denzel Curry, in that it is structured very similarly to his album, TA13OO. Uzi possibly could have took some inspiration from him there and it is very cool to see another artist succeed with a structure like that. Anyway, there isn’t a single dull moment here. For some, 18 tracks can be very cluttered, but Uzi manages to make all the songs sound fun and even if some maybe a bit similar, they are oozing with character that makes them still stand out enough to work. With this album, Uzi proves that this is his world and we are all just tourist in it.
But we’re not done yet. As I said, there is a second half we must talk about. We’ve only played two quarters of this ball game and it’s a good game so far. How will the rest of it be?
Review Part 2: Lil Uzi Vert vs. The World 2
The second half of this album, a “deluxe”, would end up starting a major trend. Now it seems every artist has hopped on the wave of having a second half as a deluxe album. The influence of this album is already present. This second half is already iconic. That really says something in my opinion. Anyway, influence aside, this half is pretty great as well. LUV vs. The World 2 is labeled as a sequel to Uzi’s most beloved tape, because it has all of Uzi’s most hyped up grails. The songs the fans have begged for on a sequel to their favorite tape only seems right. For many, THIS is the part they’ve been waiting for.
If Eternal Atake was a trip through space, Vs. The World 2 is a trip through time. It’s quite interesting, as you can tell the age of songs by Uzi’s vocal style, his flows and by which songs he says he no longer does drugs on. We begin our trip in 2018 through Myron, Lotus and Bean, all of which were among Uzi’s most anticipated snippets, especially Lotus. Now, I wasn’t the biggest Uzi fan before, as I stated, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to Myron after the snippet he dropped of it right after New Patek released.
As I said before, I was hyped for Myron. Hell, Myron is the song I was even looking forward to Eternal Atake for, before my time as an Uzi fan. At first, I wasn’t a fan of the actual song, as it’s slowed down a good bit from the original snippet, however, I’ve grown to really enjoy it. The more slowed down voice fits as a strong opener to this sequel project, as Vs. The World 1 was done almost entirely with that voice, so it makes it easier to jump right into here once you finish that one. The song has Uzi spitting over some Christmasy production, all while testing his vocal range with some especially dry yells near the end and also some high pitched vocals sprinkled in. To sum it up, it slaps. Next up is Lotus, which was perhaps the most anticipated hip hop snippet in history. A lot of people were disappointed with it and said the mixing was off, but I personally fucking love Lotus. The song is catchy as fuck and the vocals are very loud on it, which I personally like, as that is the main draw to the song for me. The last verse especially is great, as it fits hand in hand with the hook before. All of this going over some pretty mild, yet spacey production makes for an amazing track. Next up is Bean, or Kobe, as it includes a reference to the now late basketball player and sports legend, Kobe Bryant. This was a song long anticipated and another snippet that fans had been begging for nearly two years for. This song contains the deep voiced and menacing Chief Keef going hand in hand vocally with Uzi’s childlike screeches and high pitched voice. The energy Uzi carries on the song feels a lot like the energy he delivered on Lotus, making it a very consistent transition. This three track trip to 2018 delivered us with three straight knockouts, instantly drawing the audience back into Uzi’s colorful world. However, right as we get comfortable, we’re transported back further into the past. We’re taken to the 2016 XXL Cypher, where we reunite with an old friend, 21 Savage.
Yessirskiii is possibly my favorite song from this project, it’s between it and another track we will get to in a bit. This song reminds me of the 2016 XXL Cypher not just because of 21 Savage on it, but also because Uzi’s elated flow and vocals mixed with 21 Savage’s dry and unenthusiastic vocals make for a similar experience to that legendary cypher, while also being wildly entertaining. 21 Savage glides effortlessly on the production done by Pi’erre Bourne, in what is one of his best beats yet. Savage also delivers one of my favorite hooks of the year so far as well, one that is very simple, but very catchy. Uzi then comes in with his signature high pitched rapping style and if Savage glides over the beat, Uzi rides it, presenting us with a completely different style of rapping over it that also feels consistent with what Savage did. The track concludes with Savage’s hook, leaving you wanting an instant encore. Immediately following this high, we’re taken to the future with a song with none other then Future himself. Wassup is a song that acts as a teaser to Uzi’s then future project with Future. Uzi presents his signature melodies and long stretching of words in an insanely catchy hook. He then delivers a very strong verse, humbly flexing that he can’t win every time, but does most of the time at least. Among that are also some alien references, tying into the first half of the album nicely. Future then comes in and gives another solid verse, not his most memorable, but still solid nonetheless. The track concludes and what we’re left with is a great little glimpse into the future that we didn’t know was coming at the time, here Baby Pluto x Pluto was truly born. After this, we are taken back to the present, at least for two tracks.
Strawberry Peels is a short, yet very sweet, collaboration with Young Thug and Gunna. Thugger gives us a breakneck hook over some wild production, Gunna drops a solid enough verse then Uzi comes in perfectly matching Thugger’s energy. Uzi rapping over the frantic production before going into Thugger’s last hook is the perfect reminder of why these two work so well together. I Can Show You presents us with some classical(?) sounding production with Uzi delivering some Celebration Station types flows over it. It’s an Eternal Atake track vocally, but a new sound production wise. I like it a lot. It feels familiar yet new at the same time.
After our time in the present, we are transported back to 2017, when Luv Is Rage 2 came out. Moon Relate, a banger with some lyrics dealing with “pain” and a vibe that is similar to 20 Min. Based off of another much anticipated snippet, the song more then lived up to the hype. The song has super high pitched vocals and feels like Uzi at his most unhinged, a stark contrast from the vibe of the first Vs. The World, but adding tons of character to this new project. Even if you never heard the much anticipated snippet, you can tell this track is from that Luv Is Rage 2 era with its sound and it is a great revisit to that era. Next up we have what is the best song on the tape and what is, in my opinion, one of Uzi’s best songs period. Come This Way is absolutely fantastic. For it, we are taken back to 2016, when the snippet of it was first previewed. This song sounds exactly like something that’d be on the first tape and is definitely able to compete with the best songs from that tape, such as Grab The Wheel and Money Longer. The song has 2016 Uzi’s classic raspy voice and has modern Uzi’s more high pitched voice at different points throughout the song, making it a satisfaction for those who prefer one or the other. It is clearly a transition track from a transition era in Uzi’s career, that being late 2016, and it sounds absolutely fantastic. The song shows Uzi’s vocal range, all while providing what may be my favorite hook of the year. People have begged for 2016 Uzi to return and its only right that we get the perfect 2016 Uzi track in the sequel to his defining project of that year.
Next up we go back to late 2018 where we get Trap This Way, a song previewed in another wildly popular snippet from that time. First off, I appreciate this track coming after Come This Way since they have similar titles, but beyond that, this is a great track. The hook is catchy, the verses are good and the song is an all around banger. This song and the last represent my two favorite Uzi eras, 2016 and 2018, solidifying this as a great project even before we reach the end.
Next up is the Lil Wayne sampling banger, No Auto. which features Lil Durk. The song is mean, it’s vicious and it’s classic “murder” music. The sample is great and brings us back to 2004, the days of Tha Carter 1, but the sample does not go to waste, as it provides a very hard hitting beat for the harsh lyrics. The song just all around bangs, even if it’s not quite as good as the best of this tape. For the next song, Money Spread, we go to the year 2019, to the day Sli’merre was released. The production by Pi’erre sounds ripped straight from Sli’merre and the feature by Young Nudy is great, yet very foul and nasty. Uzi is great and does very well on the strange production, but Mr. Nudy is who really shines here, with him telling us that he will put his white stuff on our girlfriend’s butts and that she’s promoting his nuts. It is absolutely absurd. Besides that, the song feels a bit like a spiritual successor to the Sli’merre track, Extendo, the last collaboration between Pi’erre, Nudy and Uzi. All of it is a nice throwback to one of 2019’s best tapes. For Got The Guap, we are returned to the week before this tape came out, with another song that has a very similar vibe to Celebration Station. Uzi has a much more muted and calm voice then usual on here and I really like it, it’s nice when he does new things with his voice. Uzi gives us a catchy hook and good verses, touching on how God has helped him and flexes all his accomplishments. I also enjoy the melodies he puts in his first verse. Thugger then stops by for another feature, effortlessly matching Uzi’s energy. The song is a ton of fun.
And finally we conclude the album with the NAV featuring song, Leaders. NAV makes up most of the song, but gives a solid performance. The song is meant to lead right into Eternal Atake, as it focuses on cult followings and relating them to cult leaders, which is a theme in Eternal Atake as we know by the Heaven’s Gate marketing. Nav relates his status to Jim Jones, while Uzi does to Marshall Applewhite, leader of Heaven’s Gate. I think this song is a great Segway into Eternal Atake and concludes this album on a nice note. I think this whole album being before Eternal Atake on the track list makes sense, as it feels like it shows us what songs preceded the album and the road that lead us there.
A great album. Not only that, a fantastic double album. Uzi shows every bit of talent he has across these 32 tracks and on every one of them, he brings his eccentricity to the forefront and shows the world why the weirdos now run the music industry. Everything he set out to do since high school has now come to fruition and Uzi is now one of the kings of hip hop and music in general.
Favorite Lyrics

One eye open, ‘Luminati like Fetty Wap.

• Lil Uzi Vert on Silly Watch

Balenci Balenci Balenci Balenci Balenci

• Lil Uzi Vert on POP

Get money like Anthony Hop. Silence the lamb and your ass’ll get chopped

• Lil Uzi Vert on Prices

They laugh at me because I’m emo, I killed my girlfriend that’s why I’m single

• Lil Uzi Vert on That Way

No, statistically I can’t win everytime, but you know the score is probably like 10-3. And them three times I had to take an L, I remember them boys tried to finish me. Said we roll a Wood, I roll like 50 L’s.

• Lil Uzi Vert on Wassup

Strawberry Peels, Strawberry Peels, Strawberry Peels, Strawberry Peels

• Young Thug on Strawberry Peels

Pain

• Lil Uzi Vert on Moon Relate

I got your bitch over here promoting my nuts. Your hoe is a slut, hit it from the back, n*gga, put it it in her guts. Yeah, slap it on her butt, whole lotta white stuff on her butt

• Young Nudy on Money Spread

We from the same hood , that’s a nickel and dime. That’s all we know. God gave me the opportunity to open doors

• Lil Uzi Vert on Got The Guap

No, I’m not Marshall Applewhite, but I’m tryna phone home

• Lil Uzi Vert on Leaders

Questions
• Did Eternal Atake live up to the hype for you? If not, did you still enjoy it?
• Do you think the version of Eternal Atake we got is better or worse then the one we could’ve gotten in 2018, based off what you heard from leaks? What songs do you feel should’ve been kept on?
• What do you think of this deluxe trend? Do you think that it will last? Do you think Uzi handled it well on this project?
• Did the full songs of snippets live up to the hype for you?
• Which half did you like more, Eternal Atake or Lil Uzi Vert vs. The World 2?
• Fans that consider Lil Uzi Vert vs. The World as a classic or even just as a great tape, did the sequel live up to the first one for you?
• Do you miss Uzi’s old 2016 style like many others? Are you happy he seems to be bringing it back?

Somewhere near the Labyrinth's center, some ten miles from the Core, a pair of women walk through the darkness. One of them, a human, wears a shadowy-black military exosuit to help her see through Hell's infinite gloom, while the other, a vampiress, needs no such artificial enhancements due to her demonic heritage. As they walk, they pass the occasional torch mounted on the walls, but thanks to the demonesses' guidance, they never once run into any other demons or monsters heading toward the battlefield on Tarus II.
Amelia Greyheart glances around as her impromptu companion, Dawn, guides her in the direction of Faith's End. "I'm still waiting for you to spring a trap on me."
"Ahaha, you are very fun-ny, Black Queen!" Dawn laughs. "My master has no need to use tricks if she wishes to see you. Did you know that vam-pires and hyuu-mans were once great friends? We liv-ed in a symbiotic relationship. Contrary to the myths you may have heard, there are very few downsides to becoming a vampire, and countless upsides. Immortality, for example."
The Black Queen's expression darkens. "Eternal life is overrated. It's nothing but a hollow, empty void if you haven't anyone to share the time with you."
"Mmm. Yes, it seems that you spe-ak from experience," Dawn nods. "Indeed. Losing the one you love can ruin you for the rest of your life, no matter how long your existence may last. A shame, to be sure. However, I am confi-dent that Leviathan would cry if he knew that you were unable to move on."
Unlike the past several times Dawn has brought up Amelia's long-dead friend, the Black Queen barely even bothers feigning anger. "Don't act like you know anything about Levvy. He was more than just a friend to me. More than a best friend, or a lover... he was like a second half of my soul. I barely even remember the life I endured before I met him."
Dawn stays quiet for a few moments. Only the sounds of her and Amelia's footsteps echoing into the Labyrinth's distant hallways pierce the silence.
"What sort of person was he?" Dawn asks. "Or what sort of a dragon, I suppose?"
Amelia lowers her eyes. She gazes at the ground while walking and ruminating on her thoughts.
"I... I don't want to talk about him."
"You don't?" Dawn asks. "Why are you so eager to forget him? Was he not pre-cious to you after all?"
"Of course he was!" Amelia snaps. She shoots a nasty glare at Dawn. "It just... it hurts to talk about him, okay? It really sucks! There isn't a moment that goes by where I don't wish he was still with me."
The two women round a corner, when Dawn pauses to touch Amelia's shoulder. "I have not known you long, Miss Greyheart. I doubt you see me as anything more than an acquaintance. Nevertheless, I must say that it is of-ten better to speak about the pain in your heart than to bury it. I, too, have lost beloved companions."
Amelia pushes away Dawn's hand. With her expression hidden under her helmet, only the pain in her voice reveals her turbulent emotions. "Don't lecture me. I'm not interested in pouring my heart out to a demon."
"What about your lover? What about Hope?" Dawn asks. "Have you spoken to him about Leviathan?"
"...A little." Amelia mutters.
"So you haven't," Dawn says, clicking her tongue. "I suppose you are content to merely allow the last dragon's memory to rot in your mind, withering away to the annals of time. It does not matter to you if you die and nobody else remembers him. Some might even call such inclinations selfish!"
Amelia balls up her fists. "Stop messing with my head. You think I don't see what you're doing, Dawn? You're just trying to squeeze me for intel on Leviathan. You're hoping you can learn more about him so you can... you can... I don't know! You're probably trying to figure out how his powers worked, or something! That's always how it is! Everyone just treats dragons like weapons, or tools, or magical batteries! You're no different from the rest! I'll bet your Emperor put you up to this!"
Dawn stares at Amelia quietly for a few moments.
"She did not. I am sorry to tell you this, Miss Greyheart, but perhaps if the last dragon were still alive, people might desire his power... but he has been dead for millennia. The reappear-ance of his corpse under Mephisto's control was a shock to many, but now even that has disappeared to the tempest of a dying star. No matter how much anyone tries, nobody could even gain a fragment of his power. I... I was merely trying to get to know you better. I find you to be an inter-esting hyuu-man."
Amelia locks eyes with Dawn, her expression hidden behind the metal helmet covering her face. After a few moments, she looks away and sighs.
"I'm sorry. You're... you're right."
She hesitates for a moment before lowering her head.
"Deep down inside, I just want to bury Levvy's memories. It hurts to even think about him. I spent thousands of years listening to him all throughout any given day, and since his death... I've heard nothing. Only silence. Every day that passes, it becomes harder and harder for me to remember the sound of his voice."
Dawn slowly walks forward to rest one hand on Amelia's shoulder, while gently wrapping the other around Amelia's fist.
"Hope could help you, you know? As a Wordsmith, he could open up your memories... make you hear Leviathan's voice again. Perhaps, once you rescue him, you could sit down and have an honest conversation with the Wordsmith, hm?"
Amelia sniffles. "I... I don't know."
"Well..." Dawn says, pursing her lips. She starts to say something, but thinks better of it and shakes her head. "I am sorry for pressuring you, Miss Greyheart. Never mind. Let us continue to the prisons. They aren't far, now."
"Okay..." Amelia mutters softly.
Both women continue walking, but this time in silence.
...
An hour passes.
As they travel, Dawn's expression becomes more and more solemn. Soon, Amelia begins to notice the structure of the Labyrinth gradually change. Torches attached to the walls no longer remain lit. Bloodstains, both fresh and ancient, sit splattered above, below, and to her sides as well. Distant screams and choked sobs echo from the hallway ahead of her.
Finally, the vampiress slows to a stop. Her cute smile, one she's worn since she first met Amelia, fades away.
"I wish you the best of luck, little lost queen, but I cannot guide you any further. We have reached the edge of Gressil's domain."
Amelia turns to look at Dawn. "Are you afraid of Gressil?"
"Yes. And you should be too," Dawn replies, an edge to her voice. "Gressil is vicious, violent, and unrelenting. Even among demons, he is a terrifying scourge, one who derives pleasure from only the most brutal and barbaric acts. If he gets his hands on you... I do not imagine we will ever see each other again."
After pausing for a moment, Dawn shifts her feet uneasily. "...You can still turn back now, Miss Greyheart. I know you care about Hope, but it would be safer if you could bring backup along. What you're about to attempt is nothing less than a suicide mission."
Amelia taps the side of her helmet, causing it to deactivate. In the pitch-blackness of the Labyrinth, without her exosuit's assistance, the only thing she can see are Dawn's glowing, blood-red eyes.
"If you really want to call yourself my friend, Dawn, then I need you to do me a favor."
Dawn's ears perk up. "And that would be?"
"If I don't return... inform everyone else that Hope is trapped here. I don't care what happens to me, but Hope is different. He's important."
"Do you understand that the Wordsmiths are the enemies of demonkind?" Dawn asks. "Mistress Fenrir likes you, but she has no love of Heroes. It would be better for her if Hope perished here, rather than if he escaped to reinforce humanity's forces."
"You mentioned a power struggle in the Labyrinth," Amelia counters. "Gressil works for the First Hell, doesn't he? If he doesn't kill Hope, but instead finds a way to use Hope's power, that will prove disadvantageous to your Hell's future."
Lowering her eyes in thought, Dawn stares at the floor for a moment before returning her gaze to Amelia. "I cannot make any such decision on my own, Miss Greyheart. However, if something does happen to you, then... I shall attempt to persuade my Mistress."
Amelia smiles. "That's enough for me. Thank you, Dawn. I can move forward now with confidence."
Dawn forces a smile, exposing her teeth in the darkness. "Anything for a friend."
After a moment, Dawn motions with her hands. She explodes into a swarm of bats, then flees down the hallway in reverse, her swarm chittering as they fly. It doesn't take long before silence engulfs Amelia.
The Black Queen reactivates her helmet, once again illuminating the pitch-black gloom surrounding her. Without another word, she begins walking deeper into the Prison.
Her footsteps, once soft like the beating of a butterfly's wings, slowly increase in volume, making her tense up after every step so that she can pause and listen.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Gingerly, Amelia walks forward, eventually arriving inside the Prison's main area. Doors line the walls on either side of her. Their quality and construction materials vary widely, demonstrating that they were not built all at once, but added over time, likely by the many goblins living within the Labyrinth.
Uncertain of where to look, Amelia starts by approaching each door, one by one. She activates an ultrasonic scanner on her helmet, piercing the insides of the first room, only to find a pair of badly mangled female corpses, both of them physically and sexually violated, with parts of their limbs missing, their eye sockets hollow, and their mouths frozen open in neverending screams of agony.
Amelia gazes upon the women without so much as a flicker in her eyes.
Truly, demons are disgusting abominations.
Coldly, dispassionately, Amelia walks from room to room, scanning each one's interior with an ultrasonic pulse. The rooms with wooden doors reveal their contents openly, while those with metallic or demonstone doors prove harder to inspect.
A man, his body broken, hangs limply from a pair of chains attached to a wall. Missing both his legs, he opens his mouth, whispering two words, over and over. "Help me. Help me. Help me."
A woman, naked, shivers on the floor. A bowl of rotten food sits beside her head, while the bones beneath her skin tell the story of a long, arduous confinement, one which shall never end. Her suffering will only reach its conclusion if she should die.
A brother and a sister, each one with skin and muscle peeled off their arms, lay together, embracing each other as they swallow their final breaths.
At one point, Amelia finds a new prisoner, a man who has only recently been locked up. The man paces in his pitch-black room, scratching his face and peeling away the skin as some unknown demonic chemical screws with his brain.
"-me out! Let me out! Let me out!" The man shrieks. He walks from one end of his cell to the other, clearing the distance in only three steps before spinning on his heel to continue the neverending loop. "She betrayed me! She ratted me out! That bitch! When I get my hands on her...!!"
Amelia examines room after room, never once bothering to help the prisoners caged within. Having lived a hellish life herself, their tortured existences barely linger in her mind for a few moments before she forgets about them entirely.
The Black Queen leaves the psychotic man's cell door and scowls. "Where is Hope? I don't even know how many rooms there are here, let alone the layout of this place."
She continues deeper into the Prison, checking every room without fail. At one point, she finds a room with a locked demonstone door, one which her scanners can't pierce. She shatters the lock without hesitation and steps inside, only to find a mountain of rotting corpses, as well as an injured demon child inside, both of his legs broken.
The child, a pureblooded demon boy, jerks in fright when Amelia enters. Without hesitation, he reaches out to her.
"Please! Please help me! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it! I'll never talk back again!"
Amelia ignores him. She glances around the room, double-checking the corpses to see if any of them are Hope. When she confirms they aren't, she starts to turn away and close the door, only for the boy to reach out and grab her ankle.
"Please! Please don't leave me here!" The boy sobs. "I don't want to die!"
Amelia scowls. She kicks her hand free and glances at the demon. "I'm not your savior. I don't give a damn about you. But since I'd hate to see you suffer, I'll put you out of your misery."
Without hesitation, Amelia lifts up her leg, swings it down, and stomps the boy's head. Her strength, reinforced by the exosuit, proves more than enough to smash his brains like a watermelon, killing him before he can react. Amelia steps away from his bloody carcass and closes the door again, shaking her head in disgust.
"I've killed millions. One more won't make a difference..."
However, instead of continuing forward, Amelia's right eye twitches. She pauses outside the door and stares vacantly at the wall in front of her as a weird sense of disembodiment swallows her up. For several seconds, she sways from side to side, while a strange feeling appears in the back of her mind. She stumbles and falls to her knees, growing more confused by the second as her hands start to tremble.
"What... what's going on? Why do I feel like this? Why am I acting so strange?"
She narrows her eyes, then widens them, then narrows them again. Conflicting thoughts enter her head, until eventually, a singular concept, long ago lost to her, resurfaces.
"Is... is this... guilt? Do I feel guilty right now? Just because I killed a... a demon child? Why? I've slain so many! One more shouldn't make a difference..."
It takes several minutes for Amelia's breathing to return to normal. Slowly, she leans against the wall and climbs to her feet, clearly shaken by the strange emotions running rampant in her mind.
"This can't be right. I... I'm the Black Queen. What nonsense. Why would I ever experience guilt? It's a bit late for that, don't you think?"
She directs her question to nobody in particular. However, in the back of her mind, a sense of disappointment materializes.
"...If Levvy were here, he'd know what to say. He always did."
She bites her lip, while warm tears form at the corners of her eyes. With the helmet blocking her face, she cannot wipe them away, but instead allows them to roll down her cheeks.
"Fuck. Damn you, Dawn. Why did you have to keep bringing him up? This is all your fault."
Amelia turns around. She pushes the cell door open again to gaze at the child's corpse, his fresh blood slowly spilling across the cell's floor.
"...I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have... done that. Dammit. Why am I apologizing to a corpse? He's just a stupid, worthless little..."
She closes the door again and forces herself to continue walking. "Stupid. Stupid! Why do I feel like my body has suddenly become defective? It's as if there's some bastard guiding my thoughts, trying to turn me into a normal human again. Don't tell me Hope put some spell on my brain in case I turned evil again. He wouldn't do that, would he? I don't know!"
She resumes checking the Prison's cells, all the while, muttering and cursing to herself. Despite spending an hour checking more than a hundred rooms, not once does the Black Queen encounter a prison guard of any species, making a pit slowly form in her stomach.
"Where the devil is everyone? Don't tell me they've all gone to attack humanity. Is Tarus II okay? What about Jason? The 'real' Jason. Could he help me find Hope? Doubtful! Hope must have kept me hidden from Jason for a reason. But why? I don't get it. Do I even really know Hope? Was our entire relationship built on a lie?"
As Amelia inspects the rooms, she suddenly finds herself standing in front of a door very different from all the others she's inspected so far. This one, constructed of solid oak, somehow still manages to confound Amelia's sensors. Dozens of locks and latches line its surface, each one adding another layer of reinforcement, making forced entry an impossibility.
"Could it be...?" Amelia mutters. "Maybe Hope is in here. This room seems like it's hiding something important."
After inspecting the door, Amelia pauses for a moment when she spots a series of faint scratch marks cut into the doorframe's top. In the demonic language, they reveal a single word.
Birdy.
The word means nothing to Amelia, but still, its presence excites her.
"This room has to be important. I must see what's inside."
Quickly, Amelia reaches for the first lever. She slides it to the left with an audible click. Then, she grabs another one, and it too slides open with a clack.
Just before she touches the third latch, Amelia pauses. From inside the room, a faint sound catches her attention, one Centurion boosts with its sensors.
"...Is that a mouse squeaking?" Amelia asks. She bunches up her forehead and listens more intently. "No. It's... a woman crying? Doesn't sound like Hope. Still, I wonder who she is."
With a shrug, Amelia reaches for the third latch.
At that moment, a deep, masculine voice speaks.
"You should not touch that which doesn't belong to you."
"EEEYAAH!" Amelia screams. She spins around to see a massive wall of muscle standing behind her; a pale-skinned demon with two dozen blood-red eyes embedded in his arms, torso, and legs. Two heads adorn the demon's body, with one sporting what looks like a Pterodacyl's beak, and the other, three closed eyes, one of them on its forehead.
The Black Queen stumbles to the side, her heart racing like crazy. She loses her balance and falls to the ground, then quickly scoots away, cowering in fear.
"Y-you are...! Gressil?!"
The prison-master stares at her unsmilingly. The eyes embedded in his body twitch and squirm, while blood drips from the corners of their eyelids.
"Ah, if it isn't the False Queen," Gressil says, while standing motionlessly. "I've been expecting you."
Amelia jumps to her feet, her heart racing a mile a minute. "W-where is Hope?! I... I know you took him!"
Gressil doesn't answer. Instead, he turns his eyes to the door she started to open. He reaches toward it and slides both latches back into place.
"You have come to steal my possessions..." Gressil says. "That is a move most unwise."
"I've come to take back my f-friend!" Amelia stutters. "My lover!"
Gressil turns to look at Amelia and sneers. "Lover? Ah, so even the False Queen can stoop to such a level. Once, you were the terror of demonkind, a being so mighty that even Emperors would quake in their boots. But look at you now. You've lost your edge after returning from beyond the grave."
Amelia slows her breathing. She forces herself to stand up straight, even though her diminutive figure barely exceeds half of Gressil's height.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I may have temporarily lost my magic... but my character remains unchanged. Now... stop stalling! Give me Hope!"
"'Hope' is not mine to give," Gressil says, smiling coyly. "Unless you mean the Wordsmith."
"You know what I mean." Amelia snarls.
"The only thing I know is that you've not a trace of good manners," Gressil replies, his smile fading away. "Do you think yourself better than me? Only the strong may make demands of the weak... and we both know who among us is the mightier. Surely, you've brought something to bargain with? Surely, you do not expect me to give up a Wordsmith in exchange for nothing?"
Amelia's resolve weakens. Faced with a Demon Emperor of incalculable might, she suddenly realizes that, indeed, she doesn't have a single thing worth bargaining for.
"T-trade him for me..." Amelia says. "My life for Hope's. I'm the Black Queen! If you want power and prestige, making me your slave-"
"Would mean nothing," Gressil interrupts. "Stupid girl. Who, exactly, do you imagine yourself to be? The great conqueror of the Labyrinth? The sole heir of the Last Dragon's legacy? You are neither. You are merely an ordinary human girl, one who claims a birthright which long ago ceased to be hers."
Slowly, deliberately, Gressil takes a step toward Amelia. His foot strikes the ground with a heavy thud.
Reflexively, Amelia takes a step back. "I may not have my powers anymore... but I'll surely develop them again, in time!"
"You will not," Gressil says. "How sad. I weep for you. You've no idea of what method the Wordsmith's clone used to bring you back, yet you still prance about, certain of the truth behind your delusions. Amelia Greyheart? No. You are not her. You are a cheap imitation. A fake. A copy."
Gressil takes another step toward Amelia, then motions with his hands. Hope's figure suddenly appears to Amelia's right, conjured via illusory magic. Amelia spins to look at him, only to gape in shock as she sees her lover tied to a table, his body covered in countless cuts, lacerations, and bruises. His arms and legs, now amputated, stick out of a blood-filled bucket at the head of the table where he lays motionless.
"HOPE!!" Amelia screams. She runs toward the comatose Wordsmith, only to smack against the wall Gressil projected his illusion against. "Ah!"
Gressil waves his hand, causing the illusion to disappear. He smirks at the stunned exosuit-wearing human while shaking his head. "There? Don't you see? I've taken excellent care of the Wordsmith's clone. He is alive and well. No need to thank me."
Fury erupts in Amelia's eyes. Murderous intent boils in her heart as she grabs both vibro-knives attached to her waist and activates them with the press of a button. "You piece of shit! What did you do to him?! I'll kill you!!"
She jumps toward Gressil, raising both arms overhead. At the last second, her suit's teleportation module activates, causing her to flicker behind Gressil.
Skrik!
She plunges both knives into Gressil's spine, then drags them downward to rip open a horrifying wound from his neck to his thigh. The instant she completes her strike, Amelia jumps back and gazes at the Emperor of Chaos in horror.
Gressil remains unmoving. He stares ahead at where Amelia first started, unmoved by her sneak attack or the damage she inflicted on his body.
"Human technology is powerful and versatile," Gressil says, as his body fades away. A moment later, he magically materializes in front of Amelia, causing her to yelp in fright and fall on her ass. "...But it is far from omnipotent."
Amelia scootches back again, only to accidentally bump into someone behind her. When she turns her head to look, Amelia spots Gressil's leg pressing against her back. "Eeeyah! What the hell ARE you?!"
Her heart races like never before. Suddenly, the realization that she has no magic and no way to counter Gressil begins to dawn on Amelia, making her terrified for her life. She pulls away from the second Gressil, quickly looking at the first one to confirm both of them actually exist.
"You came here to steal from me, and then you attacked me," The second Gressil says. "You are a very rude person. How should I deal with such a graceless insect? Shall I swat you and end your misery here? Shall I tear that armor off your body and throw you in a cell?"
He pauses, then cocks his head.
"Hmm. No, that would be a waste. She could make such a good pawn if used correctly. She could become one of my eyes."
Amelia's heart flutters as Gressil's two bodies start walking toward her. "No! No... stay away! Stay back!!"
She reaches into her suit's pockets and grabs a miniaturized flashbang grenade. With a quick toss, she flings it above her head, where it explodes with a deafening bang, flooding the hallway with blinding light. Her suit instantly adjusts to compensate, preventing the grenade from affecting her.
Amelia starts to move toward the nearest Gressil, hoping to dodge him in the confusion, but before she can take even one step, the other Gressil lunges an arm at her. Her heart skips a beat, but all she can do is watch as he grabs her by the throat and smashes her against the wall.
Boom!
Even with an exosuit protecting her, Amelia gets the wind knocked out of her, making her gasp for breath while Gressil squeezes her neck like a vice.
"Human tricks. Armor. Weapons. Your species is always so very proud of their technological supremacy. Sadly, your opponent is me."
Gressil smiles, his expression one of contempt.
"I expected you later, but that meddlesome Fenrir decided to interfere. Well, it doesn't matter now. Come, let me have a look at that pretty face."
Amelia grabs Gressil's arm and tries to pull, push, or pry the Emperor off her, but her struggles prove fruitless. Without any effort, Gressil presses two giant fingers against the top of Amelia's helmet and swipes downward, shattering the nanites protecting her head with ease. He repeats the motion three more times, destroying any that appear to fill in the gaps, and soon, he fully exposes Amelia's head.
"There," Gressil says, his glowing eyes all that illuminate the pitch-black hallway. "That's nice. What an incredible facsimile you are, False Queen. Your face appears identical to Amelia Greyheart's, and your memories, too, but I know better. You are a fraud. A little girl who wanted to play princess."
Amelia chokes hard and tries to swallow even a single breath, but Gressil gives her no respite. He opens up his hand, revealing an eye embedded in his palm. The eye gazes at Amelia with the look of a bloodthirsty wolf, causing her to panic.
"Now, now, there's no need to feel frightened," Gressil coos, using a tone one might describe as 'ominously soothing.' "It will all be over soon. You'll know the truth, and your farcical existence will come to an end. But first, please accept my gift, for I am a kind and generous soul."
Without any fanfare, Gressil places the eye palm against Amelia's face, making her wheeze uncontrollably. She fights back with all her strength, but her delicate body proves infinitely weaker than her captor's.
After several seconds, Gressil retracts his palm. He releases his grip on Amelia's throat, allowing her to drop to the floor, broken and defeated. The young woman curls up into a ball and starts to cry. "Guhuk... please... please don't hurt me..."
A pitying look enters Gressil's eyes. "Now you understand. You are not Amelia Greyheart. You are not the Black Queen. You are little more than a con artist, one who can only fool the blind and stupid. Now that I have opened your eyes to the truth, you may leave. Go and tell your friends about your beloved Wordsmith. With luck, you'll soon deliver me the other one, and I may yet fulfill my goals. But please... move with haste. I am a patient demon, but I hunger for the coming era more and more every day."
Gressil chuckles to himself, then starts to walk away.
"Hah hah hah... yes. Soon, the Era of Chaos will descend upon this galaxy. What great fun we shall all have."
He fades into the distance, leaving Amelia to sob on the ground, her spirit broken, and countless memories filling her mind.
"No... no... Hope... it's all my fault... it's all my fault..."
...................................
FOR RETURNING READERS FROM CLASSIC: Please use spoiler tags when commenting on anything that might ruin the story for new readers, especially if that information is based on your knowledge of Classic!
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Author note: The Cryopod to Hell is a Reddit-exclusive story with over three years of editing and refining. As of this post, the total rewrite is 1,132,000+ words long, and we are all caught up to the main sub on HFY! For more information, check out the link below:
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...................................
(Previous Part)
(Part 001)
...
Somewhere near the Labyrinth's center, some ten miles from the Core, a pair of women walk through the darkness. One of them, a human, wears a shadowy-black military exosuit to help her see through Hell's infinite gloom, while the other, a vampiress, needs no such artificial enhancements due to her demonic heritage. As they walk, they pass the occasional torch mounted on the walls, but thanks to the demonesses' guidance, they never once run into any other demons or monsters heading toward the battlefield on Tarus II.
Amelia Greyheart glances around as her impromptu companion, Dawn, guides her in the direction of Faith's End. "I'm still waiting for you to spring a trap on me."
"Ahaha, you are very fun-ny, Black Queen!" Dawn laughs. "My master has no need to use tricks if she wishes to see you. Did you know that vam-pires and hyuu-mans were once great friends? We liv-ed in a symbiotic relationship. Contrary to the myths you may have heard, there are very few downsides to becoming a vampire, and countless upsides. Immortality, for example."
The Black Queen's expression darkens. "Eternal life is overrated. It's nothing but a hollow, empty void if you haven't anyone to share the time with you."
"Mmm. Yes, it seems that you spe-ak from experience," Dawn nods. "Indeed. Losing the one you love can ruin you for the rest of your life, no matter how long your existence may last. A shame, to be sure. However, I am confi-dent that Leviathan would cry if he knew that you were unable to move on."
Unlike the past several times Dawn has brought up Amelia's long-dead friend, the Black Queen barely even bothers feigning anger. "Don't act like you know anything about Levvy. He was more than just a friend to me. More than a best friend, or a lover... he was like a second half of my soul. I barely even remember the life I endured before I met him."
Dawn stays quiet for a few moments. Only the sounds of her and Amelia's footsteps echoing into the Labyrinth's distant hallways pierce the silence.
"What sort of person was he?" Dawn asks. "Or what sort of a dragon, I suppose?"
Amelia lowers her eyes. She gazes at the ground while walking and ruminating on her thoughts.
"I... I don't want to talk about him."
"You don't?" Dawn asks. "Why are you so eager to forget him? Was he not pre-cious to you after all?"
"Of course he was!" Amelia snaps. She shoots a nasty glare at Dawn. "It just... it hurts to talk about him, okay? It really sucks! There isn't a moment that goes by where I don't wish he was still with me."
The two women round a corner, when Dawn pauses to touch Amelia's shoulder. "I have not known you long, Miss Greyheart. I doubt you see me as anything more than an acquaintance. Nevertheless, I must say that it is of-ten better to speak about the pain in your heart than to bury it. I, too, have lost beloved companions."
Amelia pushes away Dawn's hand. With her expression hidden under her helmet, only the pain in her voice reveals her turbulent emotions. "Don't lecture me. I'm not interested in pouring my heart out to a demon."
"What about your lover? What about Hope?" Dawn asks. "Have you spoken to him about Leviathan?"
"...A little." Amelia mutters.
"So you haven't," Dawn says, clicking her tongue. "I suppose you are content to merely allow the last dragon's memory to rot in your mind, withering away to the annals of time. It does not matter to you if you die and nobody else remembers him. Some might even call such inclinations selfish!"
Amelia balls up her fists. "Stop messing with my head. You think I don't see what you're doing, Dawn? You're just trying to squeeze me for intel on Leviathan. You're hoping you can learn more about him so you can... you can... I don't know! You're probably trying to figure out how his powers worked, or something! That's always how it is! Everyone just treats dragons like weapons, or tools, or magical batteries! You're no different from the rest! I'll bet your Emperor put you up to this!"
Dawn stares at Amelia quietly for a few moments.
"She did not. I am sorry to tell you this, Miss Greyheart, but perhaps if the last dragon were still alive, people might desire his power... but he has been dead for millennia. The reappear-ance of his corpse under Mephisto's control was a shock to many, but now even that has disappeared to the tempest of a dying star. No matter how much anyone tries, nobody could even gain a fragment of his power. I... I was merely trying to get to know you better. I find you to be an inter-esting hyuu-man."
Amelia locks eyes with Dawn, her expression hidden behind the metal helmet covering her face. After a few moments, she looks away and sighs.
"I'm sorry. You're... you're right."
She hesitates for a moment before lowering her head.
"Deep down inside, I just want to bury Levvy's memories. It hurts to even think about him. I spent thousands of years listening to him all throughout any given day, and since his death... I've heard nothing. Only silence. Every day that passes, it becomes harder and harder for me to remember the sound of his voice."
Dawn slowly walks forward to rest one hand on Amelia's shoulder, while gently wrapping the other around Amelia's fist.
"Hope could help you, you know? As a Wordsmith, he could open up your memories... make you hear Leviathan's voice again. Perhaps, once you rescue him, you could sit down and have an honest conversation with the Wordsmith, hm?"
Amelia sniffles. "I... I don't know."
"Well..." Dawn says, pursing her lips. She starts to say something, but thinks better of it and shakes her head. "I am sorry for pressuring you, Miss Greyheart. Never mind. Let us continue to the prisons. They aren't far, now."
"Okay..." Amelia mutters softly.
Both women continue walking, but this time in silence.
...
An hour passes.
As they travel, Dawn's expression becomes more and more solemn. Soon, Amelia begins to notice the structure of the Labyrinth gradually change. Torches attached to the walls no longer remain lit. Bloodstains, both fresh and ancient, sit splattered above, below, and to her sides as well. Distant screams and choked sobs echo from the hallway ahead of her.
Finally, the vampiress slows to a stop. Her cute smile, one she's worn since she first met Amelia, fades away.
"I wish you the best of luck, little lost queen, but I cannot guide you any further. We have reached the edge of Gressil's domain."
Amelia turns to look at Dawn. "Are you afraid of Gressil?"
"Yes. And you should be too," Dawn replies, an edge to her voice. "Gressil is vicious, violent, and unrelenting. Even among demons, he is a terrifying scourge, one who derives pleasure from only the most brutal and barbaric acts. If he gets his hands on you... I do not imagine we will ever see each other again."
After pausing for a moment, Dawn shifts her feet uneasily. "...You can still turn back now, Miss Greyheart. I know you care about Hope, but it would be safer if you could bring backup along. What you're about to attempt is nothing less than a suicide mission."
Amelia taps the side of her helmet, causing it to deactivate. In the pitch-blackness of the Labyrinth, without her exosuit's assistance, the only thing she can see are Dawn's glowing, blood-red eyes.
"If you really want to call yourself my friend, Dawn, then I need you to do me a favor."
Dawn's ears perk up. "And that would be?"
"If I don't return... inform everyone else that Hope is trapped here. I don't care what happens to me, but Hope is different. He's important."
"Do you understand that the Wordsmiths are the enemies of demonkind?" Dawn asks. "Mistress Fenrir likes you, but she has no love of Heroes. It would be better for her if Hope perished here, rather than if he escaped to reinforce humanity's forces."
"You mentioned a power struggle in the Labyrinth," Amelia counters. "Gressil works for the First Hell, doesn't he? If he doesn't kill Hope, but instead finds a way to use Hope's power, that will prove disadvantageous to your Hell's future."
Lowering her eyes in thought, Dawn stares at the floor for a moment before returning her gaze to Amelia. "I cannot make any such decision on my own, Miss Greyheart. However, if something does happen to you, then... I shall attempt to persuade my Mistress."
Amelia smiles. "That's enough for me. Thank you, Dawn. I can move forward now with confidence."
Dawn forces a smile, exposing her teeth in the darkness. "Anything for a friend."
After a moment, Dawn motions with her hands. She explodes into a swarm of bats, then flees down the hallway in reverse, her swarm chittering as they fly. It doesn't take long before silence engulfs Amelia.
The Black Queen reactivates her helmet, once again illuminating the pitch-black gloom surrounding her. Without another word, she begins walking deeper into the Prison.
Her footsteps, once soft like the beating of a butterfly's wings, slowly increase in volume, making her tense up after every step so that she can pause and listen.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Gingerly, Amelia walks forward, eventually arriving inside the Prison's main area. Doors line the walls on either side of her. Their quality and construction materials vary widely, demonstrating that they were not built all at once, but added over time, likely by the many goblins living within the Labyrinth.
Uncertain of where to look, Amelia starts by approaching each door, one by one. She activates an ultrasonic scanner on her helmet, piercing the insides of the first room, only to find a pair of badly mangled female corpses, both of them physically and sexually violated, with parts of their limbs missing, their eye sockets hollow, and their mouths frozen open in neverending screams of agony.
Amelia gazes upon the women without so much as a flicker in her eyes.
Truly, demons are disgusting abominations.
Coldly, dispassionately, Amelia walks from room to room, scanning each one's interior with an ultrasonic pulse. The rooms with wooden doors reveal their contents openly, while those with metallic or demonstone doors prove harder to inspect.
A man, his body broken, hangs limply from a pair of chains attached to a wall. Missing both his legs, he opens his mouth, whispering two words, over and over. "Help me. Help me. Help me."
A woman, naked, shivers on the floor. A bowl of rotten food sits beside her head, while the bones beneath her skin tell the story of a long, arduous confinement, one which shall never end. Her suffering will only reach its conclusion if she should die.
A brother and a sister, each one with skin and muscle peeled off their arms, lay together, embracing each other as they swallow their final breaths.
At one point, Amelia finds a new prisoner, a man who has only recently been locked up. The man paces in his pitch-black room, scratching his face and peeling away the skin as some unknown demonic chemical screws with his brain.
"-me out! Let me out! Let me out!" The man shrieks. He walks from one end of his cell to the other, clearing the distance in only three steps before spinning on his heel to continue the neverending loop. "She betrayed me! She ratted me out! That bitch! When I get my hands on her...!!"
Amelia examines room after room, never once bothering to help the prisoners caged within. Having lived a hellish life herself, their tortured existences barely linger in her mind for a few moments before she forgets about them entirely.
The Black Queen leaves the psychotic man's cell door and scowls. "Where is Hope? I don't even know how many rooms there are here, let alone the layout of this place."
She continues deeper into the Prison, checking every room without fail. At one point, she finds a room with a locked demonstone door, one which her scanners can't pierce. She shatters the lock without hesitation and steps inside, only to find a mountain of rotting corpses, as well as an injured demon child inside, both of his legs broken.
The child, a pureblooded demon boy, jerks in fright when Amelia enters. Without hesitation, he reaches out to her.
"Please! Please help me! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it! I'll never talk back again!"
Amelia ignores him. She glances around the room, double-checking the corpses to see if any of them are Hope. When she confirms they aren't, she starts to turn away and close the door, only for the boy to reach out and grab her ankle.
"Please! Please don't leave me here!" The boy sobs. "I don't want to die!"
Amelia scowls. She kicks her hand free and glances at the demon. "I'm not your savior. I don't give a damn about you. But since I'd hate to see you suffer, I'll put you out of your misery."
Without hesitation, Amelia lifts up her leg, swings it down, and stomps the boy's head. Her strength, reinforced by the exosuit, proves more than enough to smash his brains like a watermelon, killing him before he can react. Amelia steps away from his bloody carcass and closes the door again, shaking her head in disgust.
"I've killed millions. One more won't make a difference..."
However, instead of continuing forward, Amelia's right eye twitches. She pauses outside the door and stares vacantly at the wall in front of her as a weird sense of disembodiment swallows her up. For several seconds, she sways from side to side, while a strange feeling appears in the back of her mind. She stumbles and falls to her knees, growing more confused by the second as her hands start to tremble.
"What... what's going on? Why do I feel like this? Why am I acting so strange?"
She narrows her eyes, then widens them, then narrows them again. Conflicting thoughts enter her head, until eventually, a singular concept, long ago lost to her, resurfaces.
"Is... is this... guilt? Do I feel guilty right now? Just because I killed a... a demon child? Why? I've slain so many! One more shouldn't make a difference..."
It takes several minutes for Amelia's breathing to return to normal. Slowly, she leans against the wall and climbs to her feet, clearly shaken by the strange emotions running rampant in her mind.
"This can't be right. I... I'm the Black Queen. What nonsense. Why would I ever experience guilt? It's a bit late for that, don't you think?"
She directs her question to nobody in particular. However, in the back of her mind, a sense of disappointment materializes.
"...If Levvy were here, he'd know what to say. He always did."
She bites her lip, while warm tears form at the corners of her eyes. With the helmet blocking her face, she cannot wipe them away, but instead allows them to roll down her cheeks.
"Fuck. Damn you, Dawn. Why did you have to keep bringing him up? This is all your fault."
Amelia turns around. She pushes the cell door open again to gaze at the child's corpse, his fresh blood slowly spilling across the cell's floor.
"...I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have... done that. Dammit. Why am I apologizing to a corpse? He's just a stupid, worthless little..."
She closes the door again and forces herself to continue walking. "Stupid. Stupid! Why do I feel like my body has suddenly become defective? It's as if there's some bastard guiding my thoughts, trying to turn me into a normal human again. Don't tell me Hope put some spell on my brain in case I turned evil again. He wouldn't do that, would he? I don't know!"
She resumes checking the Prison's cells, all the while, muttering and cursing to herself. Despite spending an hour checking more than a hundred rooms, not once does the Black Queen encounter a prison guard of any species, making a pit slowly form in her stomach.
"Where the devil is everyone? Don't tell me they've all gone to attack humanity. Is Tarus II okay? What about Jason? The 'real' Jason. Could he help me find Hope? Doubtful! Hope must have kept me hidden from Jason for a reason. But why? I don't get it. Do I even really know Hope? Was our entire relationship built on a lie?"
As Amelia inspects the rooms, she suddenly finds herself standing in front of a door very different from all the others she's inspected so far. This one, constructed of solid oak, somehow still manages to confound Amelia's sensors. Dozens of locks and latches line its surface, each one adding another layer of reinforcement, making forced entry an impossibility.
"Could it be...?" Amelia mutters. "Maybe Hope is in here. This room seems like it's hiding something important."
After inspecting the door, Amelia pauses for a moment when she spots a series of faint scratch marks cut into the doorframe's top. In the demonic language, they reveal a single word.
Birdy.
The word means nothing to Amelia, but still, its presence excites her.
"This room has to be important. I must see what's inside."
Quickly, Amelia reaches for the first lever. She slides it to the left with an audible click. Then, she grabs another one, and it too slides open with a clack.
Just before she touches the third latch, Amelia pauses. From inside the room, a faint sound catches her attention, one Centurion boosts with its sensors.
"...Is that a mouse squeaking?" Amelia asks. She bunches up her forehead and listens more intently. "No. It's... a woman crying? Doesn't sound like Hope. Still, I wonder who she is."
With a shrug, Amelia reaches for the third latch.
At that moment, a deep, masculine voice speaks.
"You should not touch that which doesn't belong to you."
"EEEYAAH!" Amelia screams. She spins around to see a massive wall of muscle standing behind her; a pale-skinned demon with two dozen blood-red eyes embedded in his arms, torso, and legs. Two heads adorn the demon's body, with one sporting what looks like a Pterodacyl's beak, and the other, three closed eyes, one of them on its forehead.
The Black Queen stumbles to the side, her heart racing like crazy. She loses her balance and falls to the ground, then quickly scoots away, cowering in fear.
"Y-you are...! Gressil?!"
The prison-master stares at her unsmilingly. The eyes embedded in his body twitch and squirm, while blood drips from the corners of their eyelids.
"Ah, if it isn't the False Queen," Gressil says, while standing motionlessly. "I've been expecting you."
Amelia jumps to her feet, her heart racing a mile a minute. "W-where is Hope?! I... I know you took him!"
Gressil doesn't answer. Instead, he turns his eyes to the door she started to open. He reaches toward it and slides both latches back into place.
"You have come to steal my possessions..." Gressil says. "That is a move most unwise."
"I've come to take back my f-friend!" Amelia stutters. "My lover!"
Gressil turns to look at Amelia and sneers. "Lover? Ah, so even the False Queen can stoop to such a level. Once, you were the terror of demonkind, a being so mighty that even Emperors would quake in their boots. But look at you now. You've lost your edge after returning from beyond the grave."
Amelia slows her breathing. She forces herself to stand up straight, even though her diminutive figure barely exceeds half of Gressil's height.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I may have temporarily lost my magic... but my character remains unchanged. Now... stop stalling! Give me Hope!"
"'Hope' is not mine to give," Gressil says, smiling coyly. "Unless you mean the Wordsmith."
"You know what I mean." Amelia snarls.
"The only thing I know is that you've not a trace of good manners," Gressil replies, his smile fading away. "Do you think yourself better than me? Only the strong may make demands of the weak... and we both know who among us is the mightier. Surely, you've brought something to bargain with? Surely, you do not expect me to give up a Wordsmith in exchange for nothing?"
Amelia's resolve weakens. Faced with a Demon Emperor of incalculable might, she suddenly realizes that, indeed, she doesn't have a single thing worth bargaining for.
"T-trade him for me..." Amelia says. "My life for Hope's. I'm the Black Queen! If you want power and prestige, making me your slave-"
"Would mean nothing," Gressil interrupts. "Stupid girl. Who, exactly, do you imagine yourself to be? The great conqueror of the Labyrinth? The sole heir of the Last Dragon's legacy? You are neither. You are merely an ordinary human girl, one who claims a birthright which long ago ceased to be hers."
Slowly, deliberately, Gressil takes a step toward Amelia. His foot strikes the ground with a heavy thud.
Reflexively, Amelia takes a step back. "I may not have my powers anymore... but I'll surely develop them again, in time!"
"You will not," Gressil says. "How sad. I weep for you. You've no idea of what method the Wordsmith's clone used to bring you back, yet you still prance about, certain of the truth behind your delusions. Amelia Greyheart? No. You are not her. You are a cheap imitation. A fake. A copy."
Gressil takes another step toward Amelia, then motions with his hands. Hope's figure suddenly appears to Amelia's right, conjured via illusory magic. Amelia spins to look at him, only to gape in shock as she sees her lover tied to a table, his body covered in countless cuts, lacerations, and bruises. His arms and legs, now amputated, stick out of a blood-filled bucket at the head of the table where he lays motionless.
"HOPE!!" Amelia screams. She runs toward the comatose Wordsmith, only to smack against the wall Gressil projected his illusion against. "Ah!"
Gressil waves his hand, causing the illusion to disappear. He smirks at the stunned exosuit-wearing human while shaking his head. "There? Don't you see? I've taken excellent care of the Wordsmith's clone. He is alive and well. No need to thank me."
Fury erupts in Amelia's eyes. Murderous intent boils in her heart as she grabs both vibro-knives attached to her waist and activates them with the press of a button. "You piece of shit! What did you do to him?! I'll kill you!!"
She jumps toward Gressil, raising both arms overhead. At the last second, her suit's teleportation module activates, causing her to flicker behind Gressil.
Skrik!
She plunges both knives into Gressil's spine, then drags them downward to rip open a horrifying wound from his neck to his thigh. The instant she completes her strike, Amelia jumps back and gazes at the Emperor of Chaos in horror.
Gressil remains unmoving. He stares ahead at where Amelia first started, unmoved by her sneak attack or the damage she inflicted on his body.
"Human technology is powerful and versatile," Gressil says, as his body fades away. A moment later, he magically materializes in front of Amelia, causing her to yelp in fright and fall on her ass. "...But it is far from omnipotent."
Amelia scootches back again, only to accidentally bump into someone behind her. When she turns her head to look, Amelia spots Gressil's leg pressing against her back. "Eeeyah! What the hell ARE you?!"
Her heart races like never before. Suddenly, the realization that she has no magic and no way to counter Gressil begins to dawn on Amelia, making her terrified for her life. She pulls away from the second Gressil, quickly looking at the first one to confirm both of them actually exist.
"You came here to steal from me, and then you attacked me," The second Gressil says. "You are a very rude person. How should I deal with such a graceless insect? Shall I swat you and end your misery here? Shall I tear that armor off your body and throw you in a cell?"
He pauses, then cocks his head.
"Hmm. No, that would be a waste. She could make such a good pawn if used correctly. She could become one of my eyes."
Amelia's heart flutters as Gressil's two bodies start walking toward her. "No! No... stay away! Stay back!!"
She reaches into her suit's pockets and grabs a miniaturized flashbang grenade. With a quick toss, she flings it above her head, where it explodes with a deafening bang, flooding the hallway with blinding light. Her suit instantly adjusts to compensate, preventing the grenade from affecting her.
Amelia starts to move toward the nearest Gressil, hoping to dodge him in the confusion, but before she can take even one step, the other Gressil lunges an arm at her. Her heart skips a beat, but all she can do is watch as he grabs her by the throat and smashes her against the wall.
Boom!
Even with an exosuit protecting her, Amelia gets the wind knocked out of her, making her gasp for breath while Gressil squeezes her neck like a vice.
"Human tricks. Armor. Weapons. Your species is always so very proud of their technological supremacy. Sadly, your opponent is me."
Gressil smiles, his expression one of contempt.
"I expected you later, but that meddlesome Fenrir decided to interfere. Well, it doesn't matter now. Come, let me have a look at that pretty face."
Amelia grabs Gressil's arm and tries to pull, push, or pry the Emperor off her, but her struggles prove fruitless. Without any effort, Gressil presses two giant fingers against the top of Amelia's helmet and swipes downward, shattering the nanites protecting her head with ease. He repeats the motion three more times, destroying any that appear to fill in the gaps, and soon, he fully exposes Amelia's head.
"There," Gressil says, his glowing eyes all that illuminate the pitch-black hallway. "That's nice. What an incredible facsimile you are, False Queen. Your face appears identical to Amelia Greyheart's, and your memories, too, but I know better. You are a fraud. A little girl who wanted to play princess."
Amelia chokes hard and tries to swallow even a single breath, but Gressil gives her no respite. He opens up his hand, revealing an eye embedded in his palm. The eye gazes at Amelia with the look of a bloodthirsty wolf, causing her to panic.
"Now, now, there's no need to feel frightened," Gressil coos, using a tone one might describe as 'ominously soothing.' "It will all be over soon. You'll know the truth, and your farcical existence will come to an end. But first, please accept my gift, for I am a kind and generous soul."
Without any fanfare, Gressil places the eye palm against Amelia's face, making her wheeze uncontrollably. She fights back with all her strength, but her delicate body proves infinitely weaker than her captor's.
After several seconds, Gressil retracts his palm. He releases his grip on Amelia's throat, allowing her to drop to the floor, broken and defeated. The young woman curls up into a ball and starts to cry. "Guhuk... please... please don't hurt me..."
A pitying look enters Gressil's eyes. "Now you understand. You are not Amelia Greyheart. You are not the Black Queen. You are little more than a con artist, one who can only fool the blind and stupid. Now that I have opened your eyes to the truth, you may leave. Go and tell your friends about your beloved Wordsmith. With luck, you'll soon deliver me the other one, and I may yet fulfill my goals. But please... move with haste. I am a patient demon, but I hunger for the coming era more and more every day."
Gressil chuckles to himself, then starts to walk away.
"Hah hah hah... yes. Soon, the Era of Chaos will descend upon this galaxy. What great fun we shall all have."
He fades into the distance, leaving Amelia to sob on the ground, her spirit broken, and countless memories filling her mind.
"No... no... Hope... it's all my fault... it's all my fault..."
Next Part

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"So the kid, right, he starts the second grade. Now, his dad and mom are still worried he's going to slack off on his grades like he slacked off all summer on his chores, so his dad promises him anything he wants if he gets straight A's," Casey said, looking down one of the barrels of his partially disassembled minigun.
Vuxten and the others nodded, Vuxten glancing at Addox to see if the scout drones had returned. When Addox shook his head head Vuxten knew they were still out.
"So the kid, right, he really busts his ass. Buckles down doing homework, extra credit, all of it, right? So he gets straight A's and his dad's all: son, you can have whatever you want. A trip to Zaginaw Beach, a tour of Titan, even a trip to Mouse Planet," Casey said. He locked the barrel back in place and begun unscrewing the next one from the housing.
"The kid looks at his dad and goes: Father, I just want a single pink golf ball," Casey said. He lifted the barrel up and looked down the inside. "The father is all "A single pink golf ball? I offer you anything your heart desires, my son. Surely you want more, despite being only a second grader. Surely there is something in this grand universe that you wish." The son replies, just a pink golf ball father."
Casey tilted the barrel, checking for gouges in the barrel's rifling.
"The father thinks to himself: well, bright children are often strange, and buys a single pink golf ball. When he presents it to his son the kid runs off with it, and the father doesn't see it again," Casey said. He suddenly looked up. "Drones coming back. Get ready."
Vuxten nodded. There was always a chance that Precursor machines could follow the drones back.
The drones settled in their cradles on Sergeant Addox's shoulders and Vuxten knew the Terran sergeant would have his armor systems and his greenie compile the data into a usable form.
"Hey, Sergeant Casey, can I ask a question?" one of the Telkan with third squad asked.
"Go ahead, kid," Casey said.
"Aren't you worried about the fact you're just in a loading frame? Why not fab up power armor?" the Telkan asked.
Casey stared for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't do power armor any more. Back a couple centuries ago I was part of Ninth Armored Guard, an Old Blood unit, a historical Vodkatrog armor division," Casey said. Before the Telkan could speak he held up his hand. "I was a damn good power armor troop. Powered Orbital Drop Assault."
"That's a fast life expectancy for someone without SUDS. Ninth Guard is one of the Old Blood units that expect you to die during assaults, you don't get dropped to a non-Blood unit for dying," Glory said from where she was sitting on a pile of uncrushed ore. "How in the burning chrome Hell did you get out of that alive?"
"I was better than the enemy. Too good," Casey locked the barrel in on the minigun and looked back up. "I suffered a bad case of Operator Identification Syndrome. Part of me still yearns for it."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Glory said softly, turning slightly and looking away as if the big combat mech was embarrassed.
"I wasn't patterned on your big dropship ass," Casey laughed.
Glory laughed and it felt like something that Vuxten didn't understand had been cleared from the room.
Vuxten could feel some sort of weird longing from the big Terran.
"Patterned? What's that?" Wextuk asked.
"It's when you develop an emotional attachment to the VI or eVI assist systems in your power armor, robot combat power armor, tank, whatever," he said. "It's pretty rough and if you get a bad enough case you end up needing hospitalization and therapy."
"How did you get it?" Wextuk asked. Vuxten thought about telling the Telkan Private Second Class to shut up, but figured that they might as well talk about something while the maps were being compiled.
"I was a power armor jock. Good one. Deep insertion, heavy assault, had an 80mm railgun on my right shoulder that could hit orbital targets. Rapid fire rapid reload missile rack, point defense, battlescreen systems, the whole nine yards. Toughest suit ever produced by the Confederacy or anyone else in the Universe," Casey said.
"The NovaStar-VII," Glory guessed. "You were a NovaStar pilot. By the Digital Omnimessiah, I thought all of you were dead."
"What happened?" Wextuk asked.
"One drop went bad, hell, the whole war went bad, and I spent literally two years in my armor. Never getting out of it," Casey said. "Once I was able to get out of it, I spent five years where the only time I got out of my armor was to do field repairs on it or to briefly talk to survivors I'd rounded up."
"You can stay in armor that long?" Wextuk asked.
"Yes," Casey said. He reached forward and tapped Wextuk's armored chest. "Your armor is designed for you to live in, without removing it, for up to five years."
Wextuk shivered.
"It's not advised," Glory said softly.
Casey reached down and wrapped his hand around the firing grip for his minigun and Vuxten saw the weapon's smartwire go live.
"When did the drop go bad?" Addox asked, not looking up. Vuxten knew he was going over the maps and the data.
"I barely got to the ground," Casey said softly. "It was a horror show aboard the CSFNV Sulaco less than an hour after we docked with Thule Station. One minute everything was green, the next I was fighting for my life. I was actually in the shower when it all went sideways."
Vuxten noticed everyone glanced at each other as small arcs of purple electricity wound around the barrels of Casey's minigun.
"I barely made it to Jemila and get her wrapped around me before almost everyone was dead," Casey said. "Had to fight my way to the drop pods and launch it manually. For almost two years Jemila was my only company aside from terrified civilians and the enemy. I couldn't leave her embrace, couldn't take the chance. After a while, I didn't feel safe unless I was in her embrace, unless I could hear her voice and feel her touch me, feel myself become one with her."
"Chromium Saint Peter," Glory swore softly.
He suddenly looked up and gave a sudden grin that made Vuxten wonder just exactly how many teeth humans had in their mouths.
"After that, I went Administrative for about ten years, then Maintenance for about twenty years, then went into Ordnance before rotating to an Old Blood unit," his grin seemed to get more friendly and the electrical arcs vanished. "And that, boys and girls, is how Uncle Casey ended up in Ordnance."
"Map's done," Addox said, looking up. "My little brother's about to have a fit."
"It's Mantid make, Precursor Omniqueen era," Casey guessed.
"Yup," Addox said. He shook his head. "It's really obvious once you hit the maintenance spaces."
"I assume it gets worse?" Vuxten said. "Live Mantids?"
Addox shook his head. "No. Pressure suits, hazardous environment suits, greenie toolkits, the whole nine yards. Looks like one of the larger ones, the ruling caste, is supposed to be overseeing this thing but from the scan data it looks like it was retrofitted for full automation. Got the old style horseshoe command center with the upraised central pit in the middle."
"Got us a route?" Vuxten asked.
"Several. Easy to forget how big the ruling caste was," Addox pointed at Casey. "Bigger than him in his loading frame."
"Can you get us a route that won't have us fighting everything between here and there?" Vuxten asked.
Addox nodded. "Yeah. Not for Glory, though. She's gonna have to stay here," he said.
"Great, finally get a date and you all ditch me," Glory laughed. "It's because my butt's big, isn't it?"
"You know it," Addox said.
"I don't like leaving her behind. We should pull her braincase and take her with us," Casey suddenly said, turning from where he was staring at the dead conveyor belts.
"No, I'm good, Casey," Glory said.
Vuxten heard his armor chirp as Glory opened a private channel to Casey, his officer hardware alerting him to the communication's existence but not the contents.
"I'll come back for you if I have to," Casey said.
"I know you will," Glory said.
"Got the route," Addox said. He looked at Vuxten. "Give the order, sir."
Vuxten stood up. "All right, move out by squads. Let's see what this thing's brain looks like."
The blue line appeared on his visor, showing the way.
"Let's get going," Vuxten said.
He led his men into the dark maintenance spaces of the beast.
-------------------
General No'Drak looked over the data and Ge'ermo'o watched, slowly being able to make more and more sense of the Confederate labels.
"Can you get a deep level scan of where the three mountain ranges join?" No'Drak asked, puffing on a cigarette.
The pink canine-human-feline chimera shook her head. "Too many atomic explosions to get a good ELF reading or seismic reading. Unless you want to have the Dinochrome Brigade and Third Armor to stop firing and give us a few hours to do deep level crust geo-mapping."
No'Drak clacked his mandibles in irritation.
"So we have no idea what that machine, who has managed to reach speeds of nearly a hundred miles an hour under the ground, is heading toward?" he asked.
"I'm afraid not, sir," the Military Intelligence Analyst said. "I can give you a WAG if you wish?"
WAG? Ge'ermo'o wondered. He checked his implant and nodded. Wild Ass Guess.
"By all means, Sergeant, wag your tail," No'Drak said, putting out his cigarette and pulling the pack out in the same motion.
"Refit base. Probably extensive. Continental plate drift on this planet is slow but steady, which means we're looking at a machine that has probably been largely asleep for millions of years," she said. "Combine it with the fact that the Precursor mining machines all have armor that grows stronger when exposed to heat and pressure and we're looking at deep mining machines. Probably transition zone between the mantles capable so it can access the really exotic materials."
"This planet produce any exotics?" No'Drak asked.
She checked her display and shook her head. "Our dataslicers have cut through the Lanaktallan records. They've only been here thirty thousand years, but before that the native species had to deal with a lack of fissile material and rare metals like lithium and neodymium."
"That machine and any companions might be why," No'Drak mused. "Mining it down in the transition layer before it can be brought up closer to the surface of the crust through geological means."
The Terran chimera nodded. "That's what my Section Leader believes."
"Which means, there might be a bunch of..."
"STATUS CHANGE!" someone called out.
Ge'ermo'o watched as No'Drak spun in place, looking at the tank.
"Third Armor's Third Brigade, Fourteenth Regiment just issued authorization for Mjölnir rounds!" someone called out.
"Time for Trucker to authorize release?" No'Drak asked.
The slim male human with bright pink hair and black warsteel cybereyes checked his console. "Sixty-two seconds, his combat gestalt usage jumped to eighty-three percent of combat bandwidth during that time, up twenty-three percent from current theater combat bandwidth usage."
No'Drak nodded. "Allow it. Patch us in via satellite."
Ge'ermo'o looked up the Mjölnir phrase on his datalink and all six of his eyes opened up wide.
"You are authorizing such rounds?" he asked No'Drak. "I do not seek to interfere but..."
No'Drak nodded. "They're about to engage a Precursor machine the size of a city that's using its onboard manufacturing capabilities to pump out thousands of combat machines as we speak. The longer it has to dig in and acquire resources the more difficult it will be to stop it."
General No'Drak turned and looked at the holotank as the massive machine was shown from orbit. It was surrounded by dust and smoke, its crash having shattered a fifth of the megalopilis it had landed on. Huge cracks, hundreds of meters wide, could be seen in its hull, and craters that were measured in the kilometers glowed sullenly with molten metal from where Space Force had engaged the massive Precursor ship and caused it to crash land instead of continue its orbital bombardment.
"That thing can win the war all by itself," he said.
"STATUS CHANGE!" the shout came again.
Ge'ermo'o felt himself tense.
"3-14 is firing," the same person called out.
Ge'ermo'o felt his tendrils curl protectively under his jowls, felt his crests inflate protectively.
The Precursor's battlescreens were thick, thick enough to resist nCv shots. Thick enough to tear apart the tiny tanks that had just emerged from the flaming hell of a burning chemical refinery.
The whole holotank went white.
----------------
01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011 activated the additional battlescreen projectors, feeling the electronic equivelent of anxiety as the power level dropped. It was running on backup reactors, its primary reactors dead and in the damaged sections that were little more than wreckage.
The feral lemurs and their damnable kinetic rounds that bypassed the initial battlescreens had hammered it until it had almost begun to break up. Till parts of its superstructure had begun to break up. It had been forced to dive for the planet, narrowly avoiding the massive tanks the size of a Precursor ancillary vehicle, and had slammed belly down into the city.
It was the first time it had ever been in a gravity well and despite the fact the OEM coding had protocols for it, 01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011 did not enjoy the experience.
The tanks, small pathetic things of strange matter elemental alloy armor wrapped around a massive cannon, with their own battlescreens nearly as powerful as 01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011's own screens, all leveled their barrels.
The Precursor could detect the rapidly shifting complex battlecode between the tanks, linking them together and linking the tanks to a larger network, but it had learned that to expose itself to the feral's battlecode meant exposing itself to madness as feral attack VI's would swarm it.
The Precursor tensed. It didn't know how it knew, but it knew, that the ferals were about to fire at it.
----------------
The main guns all fired, seconds apart, in one rippling long wave. The Lanaktallan tanks fired first, their shots hitting the battlescreen in rapid succession, all within a single second.
The rounds, fabbed up and assembled by 15th Combat Sustainment, V Corps, III COSCOM, went off as designed.
An atomic detonation to drive a warsteel explosively forged penetrator into the battlescreen.
01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011 watched the power suddenly drain past its ability to manage, watched the battlescreen projectors overheat and fail in one cataclysmic failure as they tried to resist not only over a hundred 125kt directed atomic explosions, but the warsteel penetrator slightly ahead of the shockwave.
The Precursor's battlescreens failed, nearly 15% of A'armo'os shots streaking forward to hit the forward prow of the Precursor. Those drove craters five hundred meters deep into its armor, blowing out armor in a hundred meter radius as the EFP's did their work.
Before 01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011 could adapt, could manage the brutal hits it was taking across its prow, which was already damaged from the crash...
...the real rounds streaked over the prow, sailing across the hull.
For an instant 01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011 thought the rounds had missed. Some of them fired a full two seconds behind the leads.
The rounds were spaced precisely, the math triple and quadruple checked by the green mantid engineers in addition to the fire control computers.
01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011 had enough time to detect that the shells contained components usually found in crude omnidirectional nuclear weapons. It computed that, based on weight and the standard 0.004 kt/kg explosive weight ratio where all species that developed superluminal flight gave up atomic and nuclear weapons, it could survive even the massive amount of explosions it would suffer. The fact they were omnidirectional meant that the majority of the explosive force would be wasted even if the rounds performed an airburst to hammer compressed atmospheric gasses against the Precursor's hull.
The ghosts of billions of Mantids, uncounted Mar-gite, and races gone from the universes all howled with laughter.
Ge'ermo'o could have even told it that what it was about to receive, it would not be grateful for.
The shells, each weighing 'only' two-hundred and some change kilograms, oriented point down, the warbois shrieked with glee, and then detonated the round.
Those races, who had met the humans toe to toe, or even Ge'ermo'o, could have told 01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011 that ascribing the achievements of other races to the maddened lemurs of TerraSol was a mistake.
The rounds were directed enough, were too powerful, to be counted under atomic protocols by the Confederate military, which had an upper limit of 2.25 megatons for directed atomic weapons.
The Confederacy counted them these rounds as 'nuclear'.
The backblast appeared, from orbit, like a blast sustained over a full second that came out to just over 50 megatons.
But that was the blast that drove the hammer home, like explosives used to drive a drill into the granite of a quarry.
Those 50 megaton blasts drove the real payload into the Precursor's body like nails of hellfire from a nailgun. The nails five hundred meter wide tubes of ravening energy that were the equivalent of 250kt blasts. The tubes ripped past the armor, the energy release of the 'backblast' and the 'tube' lasting for nearly a full second.
Each 'payload' detonated deep inside the Precursor. Mathematically precision to place each 'payload' within the edge of the adjacent payloads in order to compress the in between matter to the point that even the dullest elements would undergo fusion.
Even battlesteel.
Each of the payloads detonated, the Tsar warheads, with a net explosive weight to system weight ratio that would make any race who had not witnessed it stare in disbelief.
One hundred and thirty megatons detonating in an enclosed area.
The still 'ongoing' blast tube driven by the 'backblast' prevented the blast inside the Precursor from exiting through the channel ripped through the armor by the 'nail'. Instead, as explosions followed the path of least resistance, it was squeezed and pushed into the body of the Precursor.
From orbit, through the few sats still in operation, the entire top of the Precursor vanished in bright white light.
01001111 01010111 00100000 01001101 01011001 00100000 01000010 01000001 01001100 01001100 01010011felt nothing as its surface armor exploded outward and boiling matter ripped apart by the most basic of universal reactions consumed everything inside the armor.
The ground rippled like water for nearly two hundred miles.
The detonation was strong enough that it bounced off the molten core of the planet and caused an echo earthquake a third of the planet's circumference away.
Where the Precursor had been battlesteel burned.
----------------
"Tango down."
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