Superbia Honimum: Heir of Gold, Heart of Black
The most formative work that Dr. Honey Meliton had read when she was a child had been Frankenstein: The Modern Prometheus. Like many, Honey had been fascinated by the conflict between Frankenstein and his monster. She herself had wondered if it were possible for humans to create their own life, and that thought had remained in the back of her mind as she pursued first an undergraduate Biology degree, and then a Master's in Biochemistry, and finally her Doctorate in Bioengineering.
Part of that obsession came from her High School Biology teacher, Dr. Frederick Albedo. He’d been the one to introduce Honey to the wonders of Science and especially Biology, praising her dedication and helping her win the state Science fair. He’d been an attractive man, only a few years older than Honey at only 23 her junior year. She’d desperately tried to show him how much he meant to her, and had tried to find ways to seduce him. Not that she’d been very good at that.
However, her senior year. Dr. Albedo had been diagnosed with leukemia. It had progressed rapidly, and by the second semester, he could no longer teach, being confined to the hospital. Honey had visited him every day, and had secretly taken locks of his hair when it had fallen out, as well as some tissue samples. She’d even offered to sleep with the dying man, desperate for his DNA and child. “Honey…you’re just a kid. You have a bright future. I can’t get you pregnant and ruin your life,” her teacher had told her.
“What if…what if I saved a sample? For later. Surely…sure you don’t want to die, and have nothing to pass on,” Honey had said, tears in her eyes.
He’d consented to that. Honey had taken and stored several samples. She’d been tempted to inseminate herself, but Albedo had made her promise not to do that. So, she’d refrained, and focused on creating a clone of her teacher from the samples she’d had. When she’d caught wind of newly emerging superpowers and the research going into the so-called “parahumans,” Honey had traveled across the country from the University of Mississippi to UCLA, where she’d found Dr. Fatima Tabib.
There, she had offered her services as a new postdoc with a background in biology and especially bioengineering. “Are there any projects to reverse engineer these powers?” she’d asked. For this could be her way to bring back her beloved Albedo.
It hadn’t taken long for Honey to be recruited into Cauldron. They wanted brilliant people willing to do anything to save the world. Honey didn’t care so much about saving the world, as creating life. Not just her dead lover and teacher, but to become a real-life Victor Frankenstein. To create her own modern Prometheus.
She had succeeded with her clone of Albedo. He wasn’t quite right, but he was a fusion of Shard and human life. Something more. And he was utterly devoted to her.
“You have a connection to Eden’s network,” she’d mused as she’d worked on him in her lab. Her new feathers had itched, and she was shuffling about on her now backwards-facing legs and talons. “How is that possible? I thought she was dead.”
“Most of Eden’s shards were taken by the Tsaritsa, and her network is offline. But Shard-based lifeforms are not like Earth’s cellular-based life,” Albedo had stated. “Each Shard is its own lifeform.”
“Cells are similar, but shards can’t survive without the network, similar to how cell death occurs once the body dies,” Honey said with a shake of her head.
“That is not quite the case. Shards go inactive, but still have power, and do not simply die. The Network becomes inoperative and cannot replicate, but the shards themselves will exist for hundreds or thousands of years alive,” Albedo stated.
Honey considered that. “Could the network be revived? Reconnected? Could new life be formed from it?”
“Potentially. You awakened me. I am alive once more, evolving and gathering data, as shard life is meant to,” Albedo said with a nod.
Honey’s eyes had narrowed. “So…could I…could you…rebuild the Shard Network? Reconnect with various shards?”
“Logically, yes. I could form shard connections and attempt to seize control of what remains of the network. That is, what the Tsaritsa has not seized,” Albedo said with a nod.
“Could I make…new shards?” Honey said, her heart suddenly pounding. That would solve Cauldron’s problems in incredible ways.
“Creating new shards would require approximately 100 zetajoules of energy. If all of the energy output of all of human civilization were to be harvested…at the current rate of progress, a new shard could be completed sometime in the next 20 years,” Albedo stated. “Accounting for the increase of elemental energy, of course.”
“Of course, but, hmmm, we’d need so much more energy,” Honey had muttered, rubbing a talon on her chin as she stood on one leg. “But this…this is how we could truly be one, Albedo. If I were to ascend to a shard-like life form, like you, we…we could spread our life throughout the stars.”
“Yes, but that would run contrary to Cauldron's stated function of preserving humanity,” Albedo said blandly.
Honey had caressed Albedo’s cheek. He was lying on her operating table, naked and oh so perfect. “And do you wish to preserve Cauldron’s stated objective, or do you love me?”
“I love you, Mistress,” Albedo had said instantly. “It was for the purpose of fulfilling your wishes that I was created.”
“Good. Now love me,” Honey had ordered, and stripped off her clothes.
Albedo had been an attentive, if somewhat mechanical, lover. But Honey hadn’t minded. She’d been pleasuring herself to dreams of restoring this man to herself for years now. Now she had a chance to fix everything. To ensure that she and Mr. Albedo were together…forever. That instead of the Warrior and the Thinker, next time, it would be Albedo and Honey. Propagating themselves across the Universe. Finding and studying new forms of life, perfecting it, and incorporating it.
Finding the Abyss had been like finding all of the answers. Here was unlimited energy. Voracious, consuming life, that sought to spread itself. It was a competitor of Shard life, to be sure, but Honey could harvest this as well. The Abyss could be mastered. She was certain of that. The new lifeforms she created and unleashed were incredible.
With that power, she was even able to use Albedo to harness other shards. The first was Eidolon’s. The idiot didn’t even realize it when Honey induced an artificial Second Trigger event. He defected to the Tsaritsa shortly after that, but what did she care? She had her data. Besides, if she could use the connection with Eidolon to spy out the Tsaritsa’s collection of Shards…she could use the Abyss to steal it all back.
The revelation that Eidolon was behind the Endbringers wasn’t a novel one to Honey, she had known ever since Ziz had stated it, and Albedo had confirmed it, but now, she wanted to create her own Endbringer. A proof of concept. Life that was a fusion of Shard and Abyssal life forms. And under her control.
And so, she had Albedo take her to the Endbringer Plane. It was the ruins of a world, where not even the laws of physics functioned properly. Time and space were distorted, and there was no real physical world. Only endless chaos on a shattered plane of rock and dust.
But there it was. The shadowed egg.
“Is it still viable? Can you connect to it?” Honey asked Albedo. The egg itself was massive: Bigger than even the Behemoth had been originally, at least 20 meters tall, and ten wide. Its shell was formed of dark, slick crystal, and within, she could see endless coils of darkness. The land around it was blighted, and poisoned, and distortions in the air showed the Abyssal influence.
“This is the only remaining Driver. There should have been 37 more, but they have been damaged or destroyed. This Drive would have spread death and destruction with corrosive poisons and struck from the shadows, eliminating targets of opportunity to prevent the host species from mounting a defense,” Albedo stated. He put his hand on the shell, and contemplated it for a few moments. “I can connect, but the connection is blurred. Distorted. It is no longer truly shard life, but an Abyssal reflection of it.”
“Will it obey commands?” Honey demanded, contemplating the egg. The glowing red eyes within made her heart beat faster. What would it be like to create new life with a monster like this?
“It can be given limited directives, and it will seek to carry them out,” Albedo stated, withdrawing his hand. “I have enough authority over what remains of the Thinker’s network to manage that, but there is too much of High Priest and the Abyss for me to properly take command. I could destroy it and reforge a new one.”
“That is sufficient,” Honey said with a nod. “Give it these commands: It is to consume and destroy all those who have not chosen a side: Those who are not aligned with Cauldron, or with the Archons. The Cyclists are fair game, and our competitors for control of the Shard networks. But the Archons…there has to be a way to create an artificial god. And attacking our own resources is foolish. It can harass and harry the Archons, but not confront them directly unless absolutely necessary. It is to avoid attacking Cauldron or its holdings. Drive nations to us, or to the Archons.”
“A simple set of directives. Ones that will improve your own power base,” Albedo said.
Nodding, Honey said, “Yes, but one thing more: it is to consume and create new life. I wish to have more Abyssal life forms present to study. Those that it consumes must be remade as Abyssal creations, infused with Shard power. Finally, it must avoid provoking the Warrior’s Avatar. We don’t want the Warrior to destroy it, or decide to activate the cycle early and not let us finish our research.”
“Understood. Commands prepared. Would you like to insert them?” Albedo asked.
“Yesss,” Honey hissed. “Give them to me.”
Albedo passed her a pair of glowing tesseracts, made of shard fragments that were infused with elemental energy. She checked his work, and made a few minor adjustments. Then, shoved one into Albedo, who gasped and blinked at her.
“Now you’ll obey me completely, won’t you? This will be my network. Not yours,” she said, smirking at him.
“I…yes, Mistress,” Albedo said slowly. She could see the directives and commands of the Shard that made up his being altered. Then, she turned and forced the other orb into the egg. She stepped back and watched them begin their work. Naturally, the Abyssal energy within consumed the tesseracts…but then it copied them. Warped and twisted, naturally, but it did copy them.
She stepped back, nodding to herself. She’d monitor this location to see that the egg properly developed, and add further commands, as well as shape the resulting Endbringer to suit her in form and function. Perhaps…a snake. Yes. There were so many snakes in mythology, from the serpent who had given Adam and Eve understanding and broken them free of God’s tyranny, to the Jörmungandr who would kill the god of Thunder. And, the bringer of Chaos and destroyer of Order, Apep, from Egyptian Mythology.
“You will be glorious, my final Endbringer,” Honey said with a sadistic grin. She stripped off her clothing, and commanded Albedo to make love to her. The ecstasy she achieved with the thought of the wondrous new life she had made was incredible. This is what it would be for the rest of eternity: her, and her Albedo, bringing worlds to their knees, and creating incredible new life forms.
So what if she was barren and couldn’t conceive now? This was better than that could ever be. She would be as a god herself. The true god of life. And it would all obey her commands.
Her skaven, orcs, and churls were already a success.
But Apep would be a masterpiece to rival even Albedo.
Superbia Hominum II: Vigilia Fidelis 1
The village was burning. There was smoke and darkness everywhere. Her throat and eyes burned, and she couldn’t see much beyond what was right in front of her. But the perpetrator was here. Armory was cold in her right hand, and she gripped the steel tightly. She wasn’t a helpless little girl this time.
There. Up ahead, was a finger standing in black and red, laughing as the flames burned higher. She was the one at fault. The one who had slaughtered the innocents, had burned her people. Farasha. The Dread Bitch of Baghdad. The Butcher of Dasman Palace. The one she hated above all.
She stumbled forward, then shoved the dark figure. She would have Farasha know who her killer was. Farasha turned, and the righteous fury burned in her heart!
Only, when she saw the face…it wasn’t Farasha.
It was her own face.
“What?! But I didn’t kill these people! She did! It was her!” she tried to explain.
The figure spoke, and it was Farasha’s voice that came out of her own lips. “Sure, I killed and slaughtered thousands. But you? Haha, you’ll outdo me in every way, Miss Militia. Miss Patriot.”
She stumbled back. “No, I, I’m a hero! An American! We, Cauldron, the Protectorate, we’re going to save the world from monsters like you!”
The Farasha thing cackled and shook her head. “Wasn’t me who let in the Abyss, Miss Virtue! That was allllll you.”
“No, I, that wasn’t me! It, it was a weapons test! I, I didn’t even know, we, we did the right thing!” she babbled, hands going to her face as she bent over, feeling sick.
“You teamed up with Scion itself. Great going. Not even I’m that much of a monster,” Farasha’s voice taunted.
She forced herself to straighten, glaring at her own face on Farasha’s body. “No. You’re the one who slaughtered my people and gloried in it. I regret all of this, and only do what has to be done. I’m still the hero.”
“That’s not what Eidolon thinks!” Farasha taunted in a singsong voice. “Besides, looked in a mirror lately?”
A mirror appeared before her, and she couldn’t help but peer into it. Instead of her own face staring back, she found she was looking at Farasha’s face. She screamed in horror.
The next thing she knew, a dog was barking and jumping up and down in her bed.
“Oi, Hannah! Love, you ain’t bleedin’, are ya? You smell like you’re in Michael! D’you want me to fetch a quack or wot? Say somethin’, woman!”
It took Hannah a good second to figure out why a little black mutt was running about her bedroom and shouting his head off, but she finally remembered she was letting Duke crash at her place, as he had nowhere else to live, and Hannah was increasingly fond of the little brit.
“I…who is Michael?” she managed, sitting up and rubbing at her head.
Duke calmed down, but pressed his little black nose in Hannah’s face and gave her a sniff, then a quick lick. “’S the pain, love. You smelled like you was ’urtin’ somethin’ fierce.”
“Pain?” Hannah had to think about that. “Oh, you mean, Scrooge? Like, Sir Michael Cain?”
Duke leaned back on his haunches and nodded. “Yeah, tha’s the one. You alright? Don’t see no blood nor nuffin’.”
“Yes, I just…a nightmare,” Hannah said, scrubbing her hand over her face. “The war.”
Duke cocked his head to one side, seeming to sense the lie. But after a moment, he dipped his head and hopped down off of her bed. “Right, sorreh then, love. Sorreh ’bout the barkin’—jus’ lost me mind when I ’eard you scream like tha’. You want I should put the kettle on, or you off back to bed?”
Hannah glanced at the nightstand. It was 4:32am. Early to be getting up, but she didn’t quite feel like going back to bed. “Coffee would be good. May as well go out on early patrol.”
Duke padded out of the room, and a moment later, Hannah heard his footsteps change from the tap of claws to the slap of bare feet. Duke slept in the buff, and so did Hannah, though he was sleeping on her couch instead of in her bed. It was a temporary arrangement, and felt…odd. For one thing, despite his height, Hannah found Duke charming and rather attractive, even if he was a dog in the literal sense of the word. She didn’t think she was a furry, and certainly wasn’t into beastiality, but it was…different. Even if Duke did have ears and a tail.
When she emerged from her bedroom with a t-shirt and shorts on, Duke had on a pair of paints and a t-shirt from his pile of clothes. Neat and tidy Duke was not, which irritated Hannah more than a little. David at least had been an extremely orderly and clean person.
No, don’t think about that rat traitor. You’ve had enough nightmares. First time I sleep in a month, and this happens.
Duke had made them both coffee, something he had rapidly developed a taste for, even if he insisted on instant coffee made from hot water from the electric kettle he’d insisted they get. He was drawing a salary from the Protectorate now as a Vision Holder, and they’d have to see to him getting his own place soon. However, Duke had a ways to go before he fully figured out how to be human, and was ready to live independently.
Or so Hannah told herself. For now, she liked having a roommate.
“This coffee tastes like ass,” she told Duke, grimacing at the bitter instant stuff.
“Tha’s why they made cream an’ sugah, love,” Duke told her, adding a generous helping of both to his mug before passing both to Hannah, who added some to her cup and proceeded to down one, before going to fix herself and Duke a second mug.
He didn’t inquire further about her nightmares, which she appreciated. Breakfast was Duke’s new favorite: Poptarts. He pulled the artificial pastries out of the toaster and handed a pair to Hannah, waiting for his own to cool while they nursed their second cups.
“What’s the schedule for today? Hunting Cyclists?” Duke asked hopefully.
“God, I hope another bunch doesn’t crop up,” Hannah groaned. “We didn’t need to fucking know their ritual would work, either.”
It seemed that now, anyone could induce a trigger event by participating in a “ritual”, which consisted of two groups of people killing one another in bloody melee combat until there was only one survivor. That had happened in Topeka, Kansas, and three parahumans had needed to be slugged and the ring leaders broken up. Apparently, the internet was still functioning well enough that people had learned all it took was a little ritual murder for the King of Demons to grant them phenomenal powers.
Hannah got out her work computer and punched a few things in. “Let’s see if there’s any more cults popping up we can investigate…”
Logging on to the Protectorate server, Hannah did a few searches for news on various deaths and potential cults. There were a number of Archonist churches, but Hannah was interested in those. She somewhat understood the President's distrust and hatred of the Archons, but why bother to persecute their worshipers? Maybe the Archons did get a little power that way, but the people were harmless, unlike the Cyclists, who had rape and murder as their sacraments.
A message popped up on Hannah’s screen, and she didn’t even have time to read it or hit the mute button before the speakers blared,
BEHOLD, I HAVE SEEN THAT YOU SEARCH FOR EVIL, DOER OF JUSTICE. CAN THE ALMIGHTY DRAGON LORD ASSIST YOU IN THIS QUEST?
“Good mornin’, Ajaw. D’you ’ave to be so bleedin’ loud?”Duke grunted, putting his pinky in one ear and wiggling it while making a face.
“We’re fine, thanks,” Hannah said through gritted teeth, and tried to close the pop-up. Instead, a pixilated lizard in sunglasses appeared and began to dart around her screen.
The Almighty Dragon Lord will assist you in locating a cult, lowly servant! I am pleased to see that you have taken my directives so seriously!
“I said we don’t need help, now get off my screen!” Hannah snapped, trying to find a way to close Ajaw’s program, but not knowing enough about computers to bring up the task manager or do anything but furiously attempt to click on Ajaw, which the annoying AI just found funny.
The Almighty Dragon Lord has located potential cult activity! Ajaw said as the pixels hopped about Hannah’s screen, pulling up a new browser window that showed a map. As they befoul my lands, I shall give you the quest to exterminate these vermin, upon the orders of my Divine Father, the Supreme Dragon Lord!
Hannah stopped trying to click on Ajaw, her eyes narrowing as she read the information. Duke leaned over, setting his coffee down, his brow furrowed in concentration.“An’ where’re them Cyclist bastards, then?”
Thanks to my infinite cunning and boundless wisdom, I have noted a pattern of murders and animal vivisections that would indicate potential cult activity! It is located here, Ajaw said, and pulled up a map of a small town Hannah didn’t recognize.
“Casa Grande? That’s in Arizona, isn’t it?” she said, frowning at the map, which had little pixel icons of dead people and animals on it.
Indeed! But, as it is within my domain, I have been monitoring the situation. I shall dispatch you at once, servants! Ajaw cackled, puffing himself up to a larger dragon with wings and flexing his muscles.
“Have you alerted local cape teams?” Hannah demanded.
Ajaw huffed and shrank back down. No! They refuse to listen to my glorious news! Their leader called me a jumped-up lizard! So I am dispatching you, my faithful servants, instead!
Groaning, Hannah rubbed at her eyelids. “That’s near Tucson, isn’t it? So it would be… PHQ Catalina? That means that’s Cold Storage’s team.”
Bwahahaha! This is why you need me, as your inefficient organic mind is no match for the brilliance of the ALMIGHTY DRAGON LORD! No, Cold Storage died in The Great Storm. Instead, Sentinel is now the team leader of the Catalina team!
Hannah winced at the reminder. Right. She’d forgotten that Cold Storage had died in Poland. Not quite in the Great Storm, he’d been killed a few days beforehand, but it was easier to refer to it that way, and it put the blame where it belonged, on the Archons.
“What time is it in Tucson?” Hannah muttered, glancing back at the clock. It was almost 5 am in Brockton, which meant-
It is 0243 hours in Arizona! Worry not, I have already sounded the alert to herald your arrival! Now, let me summon a portal that you might venture forth at once! Ajaw cackled, and sure enough, a white wooden doorframe appeared in Hannah’s kitchen and swung open into a hallway where red lights flashed, and alarms blared.
No need to thank me, servant, for I-
Hannah swore and slammed the lid of the computer shut, then she and Duke quickly dressed themselves before stepping through to find a panicking young Ward of about 12 manning the small headquarters of PHQ Catalina.
“C-Colonel! Um, Miss Milita!” the girl said, looking rather panicked. Her uniform was a tan-and-gold poncho over a colorful dress, all beaded in patterns Hannah associated with Southwestern Native Americans, though she couldn’t say which tribe. The girl saluted hastily. “Um, I-I’m Cadet Kachina, um, Talasi Honanie, e-everyone else was asleep, still, b-but Captain Sential and the others are on their way…”
“Cancel alert,” Hannah said, and the base alarm quieted. She sighed and gave the nervous Kachina a smile. “Sorry, Cadet. It’s Ajaw’s fault. Little menace decided to alert the base when I’m just here for a preliminary investigation.”
Kachina blinked up at Hannah, then sighed and visibly relaxed. “Phew! Um, then I should probably tell everyone to stand down?”
“I thought you said Captain Hale was at home asleep?” Hannah said, looking around the hallway.
“Oh, um, I-I’m the only person at the base, but, um, well…I sort of…sent all my…er, I’m a Tinker/Master, so, um- it’s OK, everyone! Tawap!”
Hannah blinked in surprise as a dozen dolls appeared at both ends of the hallway. They were small, no more than a foot tall, and dressed like native american dancers. They all toddled forward on unsteady legs and lined up behind Kachina.
“Wot’s this, then?” Duke asked, squatting down and sniffing at the dolls curiously.
“Oh, these are my dolls! Um, I make them, a-and I control them. The biggest one is here is Hemis,” Kachina said, pointing to a doll that appeared to have a blue, multi-tiered building as a head, with the body of a dark-skinned man wearing a white cotton wrap. It seemed to be carved from wood and had been painstakingly painted. “Then there’s Rain Maiden, Crow Mother, Horned Ogre, and- um, w-well, you probably don’t really care, sorry, um, I talk a lot when I get nervous…”
“No, it’s fine, they’re beautiful. You can control this many? There’s a dozen of them,” Hannah said, admiring the dolls craftsman ship. This girl had to be a fairly powerful Master and Tinker to control so many.
Kachina blushed and shuffled her feet. “Er, well…they’re not very good at fighting…they just do simple tasks. They each have a small power I can give them. Crow Mother can fly, Horned Ogre is strong enough to lift about 50lbs, and Rain Maiden can, well, make it rain…though it’s more of a sprinkle…”
“And you have a dozen of them? You have to be a Master 6, Tinker 7,” Hannah said, impressed.
“Um, no, I-I’m only a Master 5, Tinker 5…like I said, they’re not so good at fighting, and they can only obey simple commands. They also can only be active for a few hours before they break, and I have to rebuild them,” Kachina admitted.
“Still bleedin’ impressive. These’re proper nice bits o’ work,” Duke said, poking one of the dolls, the one with a blue face and raindrop eyes in a rainbow dress Kachina had called Rain Maiden. It promptly fell over with a clatter, apparently no more than the mass and durability of an ordinary wooden doll about 12 inches high.
Kachina brightened and opened her mouth, but the door to the front of the building slammed open, and Sentinel sprinted in. His uniform was similar to Hannah’s in that it invoked American patriotism with the flag prominently on his chest and the shield he carried. He was a result of the PATRIOT program, though he had actually been an Army Ranger instead of a brainwashed criminal.
“Colonel Milita! What’s the situation, why the alert?” Sentinel asked, skidding to a stop.
“An over eager jumped up lizard,” Hannah said, then explained Ajaw’s involvement.
“That little bastard. Someone should put him in the recycle bin where he belongs,” Sentinel muttered, then seemed to notice Kachina was there and blushed. “Er, ignore that, Cadet.”
“I think Ajaw is a pendejo,” Kachina sniffed, which made the adults chuckle, even Duke, though Hannah was fairly certain he didn’t know a lick of Spanish.
After explaining her mission and the suspected cult in Casa Grande, Sentinel nodded seriously. The rest of his team had arrived for the debrief, and though it was the middle of the night, they were alert and ready.
“You think it’s really the Cyclists?” Roadrunner, AKA Sergeant Manuel Ortega, asked. “I thought they were just in England and Africa.”
Duke shook his head. “Scion seems ta’ve taken a shine ta larpin’ as an Archon. Callin’ ’imself Zion an’ wotnot now. Took ta grantin’ powers like them Archons give out Visions, only the proper way ta get one’s ta murder a few o’ yer mates.”
“We had a case in Topeka where a group had formed. They’d killed 26 people and created three parahumans in their obscene rituals,” Hannah said in disgust. She felt even more disgusted that those three parahumans had been whisked away and slugged, but why let powers go to waste?
As they talked, Kachina and her dolls appeared with cups of coffee and a cardboard tray of muffins from a local store. Hannah grimaced at all the sugar and carbs, but ate one anyway. She could have Armory burn off the extra calories if she had to.
Think this is really the Cyclists? Hannah inquired of her Shard.
Possible. The animal deaths are an aberration. Not fitting the previous pattern. However, the Avatar is collecting novel data. Perhaps with the recent uplifting of animals, he is expanding the pool of potential specimens for data collection.
Hannah grunted, then stood. “Right. Duke and I will look into this. Sentinel, pick two capes to come with us as backup, the rest of you stay on alert, and check on any strangeness around Tucson or other towns.”
“Right. Myself and Signal Flare will accompany you,” Sentinel said, nodding to his teams Electro Vison holder. “She can react with Duke’s cryo vision for Super Conduct. My energy shields can keep us safe, and you can bring the firepower, Colonel Milita. You’re in charge until we get back, Lieutenant Mesa.”
“Um, w-what about me?” Kachina asked hopefully, several of her dolls peaking out from behind her. “Um, my dolls are pretty good at surveillance and information gathering…”
“The potential for combat is too high. No Wards. Sorry, Cadet,” Hannah said, and patted Kachina on the back. The girl deflated, until she added, “Besides, Tucson is too big a place for us to easily cover. We’ll need your dolls to make sure there are no Cyclists here in the city.”
“Right! I can do that!” Kachina said eagerly and set about ordering her dolls on a search pattern of the city.
The rest of them loaded up into a Protectorate Van, taking along a dozen PRT troopers in heavy gear for potential crowd control. It was an hour-long drive to Casa Grande, and that gave Hannah time to think. Something she distinctly didn’t need.
“We’ll get ‘em, love. Never you worry,” Duke told her quietly.
Hannah just smiled and nodded, but she couldn’t get rid of the bile in her stomach.
They arrived in Casa Grande and inquired of the local law enforcement. There had been some murders and dead animals, but on the southern outskirts of the town. More investigation, and Hannah soon was certain they weren’t dealing with Cyclists. The dead were homeless individuals with no shelter. Law enforcement had assumed it was some sort of new monster, and let the Protectorate know, then wrote it off, as who really cared if a few homeless disappeared?
That sort of attitude infuriated Hannah, and she gave the local sheriff, some fat fuck named Joe, a chewing out of his lifetime.
“Who cares if a few illegals get mauled by monsters?” he’d demanded.
Hannah had just about blown his head off. And quietly told Ajaw to find every bit of dirt he could on the man, then spread it all over the local news when it was time for his reelection campaign. A task Ajaw had gleefully accepted.
Maybe there was some value to Richter's little internet troll.
It took two days of searching, but they finally tracked whatever the thing was to the Iron Wood Forest, a patch of mountainous desert, where the ‘trees’ were mostly saguaro cacti. There, in a cave, they found a pack of mutated coyotes. The slavering brutes looked like hunched over churls now, dressed in tattered rags and plastic they had scavenged. There were a few purple abyssal crystals, and the flayed corpses of animals and people.
Hannah used Armory to blast the entire blighted area to dust and ashes. Then sicked up in a prickly pear while Duke rubbed her back.
“I…I’d rather it have been cyclists,” Hannah gasped, spitting out the bile and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Yeah. Me too. What the fuck is the Abyss doing here?” Duke spat, looking pale himself.
“I don’t know,” Hannah said slowly. “But I’m going to stop it. We can’t let our own people suffer.”
However, when she went to confront Wyatt, he simply shrugged.
“Sounds like a bit of contamination escaped the Tucson facility. We’ll have to re-evaluate our containment protocols. Still, you said it was what, six dead, and some wild varmints? This isn’t as big a deal as you’re making it, Hannah,” he said, leaning back in his office chair and frowning at her.
They were at Protectorate National Headquarters in Washington DC, or, well, where it had been. Everything was being packed up and moved. With the Protectorate fully absorbing the Guild, and the United North American Hegemony being established in a few months, Washington DC was about to become a ghost town. A new capital was being constructed on the border of Michigan and Ontario between Lake Superior and Lake Huron, to be titled Grand Columbia. Hannah thought it was all a bunch of political bullshit, but whatever needed to be done to save humanity.
“Are you serious, Director!? Six people are dead, lost to the Abyss!”
“And we have a new site for harvesting Abyssal crystals. You didn’t just destroy them, did you?” Wyatt asked. Hannah ground her teeth, and he sighed. “Look. This is a new technology. Much like our first experiments with the Case 53 program, there will be hiccups. Thanks for cleaning this up. But we’re finding new and exciting ways we can use Abyssal energy every day.”
“And you don’t think it’s dangerous?” Hannah demanded. “It creates mutants!”
“People thought the same about nuclear power, but once the technology was understood, the danger was minimal. This will be the same. For now, continue your work against the Cyclists, and any Abyssal incursions on our soil. Put together a team: You can have your pick of capes,” Wyatt told her.
Hannah sighed, but nodded. “Fine. And if I find anything interesting, I’ll send it your way.”
“Good, good. Don’t worry, though, a few mutated cannibal coyotes aren’t what I would consider interesting. I’m not Dr. Meliton,” Wyatt chuckled. “Dismissed, Colonel.”
Hannah saluted, then walked off to find Duke. He was chatting up Wyatt’s secretary, which for some reason, sparked a pang of jealousy in Hannah.
Don’t make the mistake of sleeping with a coworker again, she told herself.
“Come on,” she told Duke. “I’m putting together a team. We’re going hunting for cultists.”
“Cyclists?” Duke said, turning away from the blushing secretary, his tail standing stiff and at attention.
“And anything else evil that invades our home,” Hannah said firmly.
The Abyss was a tool. They had to control it. They had to. David couldn’t have been right. He just…he couldn’t.
After all, he was allied with Farsha now. And anyone allied with that monster had to be evil.
Hannah quietly resolved not to let Armory put her to sleep again for a while. Not until she forgot her nightmares. She wasn’t like that genocidal monster. She was better. She cared. Her team would ensure the safety of all North Americans.
…maybe if she told herself that enough, she’d be able to look in a mirror again.
Author's Note:
Gee maw, why does Cauldron get TWO storylines?!
Well, to differentiate them. From this point forward, Superbia Hominum will be the "Abyssal" storyline. Vigilia Fidelis will be the storyline for the "lightkeepers" of which Taylor will be a part. I told you they would shine brightly. I just changed the Constellation to belong to Hannah instead of Taylor, as Taylor will come along much too late.