Vigilia Fidelis 3: Monsters, Old and New
There was nothing left of São Luís. Not the city nor the island. All that Hannah found there was an enormous obelisk hovering over a crater that was still filling with seawater, even a full 24 hours later. The Obelisk itself was…strange. It was decorated with what looked like religious iconography, but…distorted. There were crosses with mystical eyes, crescent moons with skulls, winged beasts, and other things.
Oddest was the text, which was in dozens of languages. Hannah scanned it all for the egg heads back at Cauldron HQ to decode, but there was some in English she did understand.
The scales were weighed against themselves, feather against void, sin against syntax, and the measure collapsed into equivalence:
0 = 1 = many = none
The Cycle Must be Completed
Well. Understand was stretching things. This was purest nonsense, really.
“What do you make of this?” she murmured to Armory.
Religion is not a new phenomenon. It has been observed in other Cycles, in other species. Most species have rituals and beliefs that would be considered religions. Armory replied.
“Uh-huh. Which is to say?” Hannah asked, hovering back away on her suit's repulsors. The Nail itself glowed with ominous power and emitted elemental energy in massive quantities that was hazardous in the extreme. Any lifeform near this for too long would be killed or evolve in strange ways. Already, she could see slimes of various sorts condensing in the waves and air. It wouldn’t be long before the nastier beasties did as well.
The Avatar seeks to use religion as a new power source. It is one for the Archons and Dragons, as we have observed. I…understand this. Not because of the data within the Network, or my own self, but because of you. Our Symbiosis allows me to understand the importance faith and religion have to humans. I do not yet understand how or why it is power, only that it is.
“So, the President is right then. The Archons and Scion are weaponizing religion,” Hannah said, her tone grim as she shot away from the nail. The crater itself was massive. Approximately 350 miles in diameter, an area of over 100,000 miles. The state of Maranhão was practically erased in its entirety. Casualties were still being assessed, but estimates were putting the final number north of six million. Possibly more than seven million.
It was looking like this was going to be even more devastating than the Destruction of Moscow in 1995. Though that was less the result of Apep, and more a result of just how deadly the Divine Nail Scion had deployed to drive it off and contain the Abyss had been.
She could have taken a door to her destination, but instead, Hannah flew over the devastation, letting herself look at the churning waters below her. This is what the fate of the entire world would be, if the aliens had their way. This was why she could stop at nothing to preserve humanity.
Approaching the rim of the crater, Hannah saw devastated forests and fields. While this was Brazil, it wasn’t the Amazon. Instead, this region was drier, and in these hills, there were large broadleaf trees. Most of them had been knocked flat by the blast wave, and others had exploded into fragments of wood and mulch. It wasn’t until she flew over the hill to the small village of Campo Verde that she saw any standing structures or trees. It had been sheltered behind a low range of hills, and protected against the worst devastation.
Still, much of the cotton and soybean fields around the village had been obliterated, and there had been great loss of life. Not to mention the now rampaging monsters in the region. There might not be any Abyssal Beasts, but there were now slimes, specters, whopperflowers, and even the deadlier foes like Regivines or Hypostasis appearing.
With the Brazilian cape scene utterly overwhelmed, Hannah had decided to lead her team to the affected region, and provide what relief she could. Mouse Protector and her squad were further to the West, battling an infestation of Specters there, but here Hannah had received a report of a fully manifesting elemental beasts that were attacking the village.
Sure enough, as she approached, she saw a trio of enormous red birds with a wingspan of at least 20 feet. Each of them was glowing with pyro energy and breathing out gouts of flame that were devastating what was left of Campo Verde’s crops. She used Armory’s systems to highlight the first one, and unleashed a barrage of missiles infused with Hydro Energy, something that Armory had been able to copy from the recent technological innovations from the PRT.
The missiles streaked forward and impacted the first of the red birds, which screamed and fell down onto the fields below. The other two immediately turned, and to Hannah’s dismay, burning feathers flew up from their wings and backs, then streaked towards her.
She activated her Cryo Delusion, which formed a shield about her. Unfortunately, Cryo was about the worst match up defensively for a Pyro attack. Her shield rapidly melted, then the burning feathers were hitting Hannah herself. She found her systems overheating and smashed down into the soil below her, sending up a geyser of dirt.
Even worse, the first beast she’d hit wasn’t dead yet. It hopped up from where it had fallen and fluttered towards her, shrieking and flapping its wings. She shot it with a burst of plasma energy from one of her high-tech guns, but it took a full 10 shots to put the creature down dead, and by then, the other two were approaching, and more fiery missiles were streaking towards her. Hannah gritted her teeth and braced herself…
…only for a stream of flames to wrap around the attack. The red birds screamed their defiance, only for fluttering insects to swarm about them.
“FARASHA!” Hannah screamed, rage filling her as she spun about. She saw several butterflies flapping around her. And used her Delusion to extinguish them with Cryo in a blind fury.
Then she turned to look at the birds, but had to pause. The Pyro in them was being funneled away, the birds bound by strange sigils. Before them, a black-clad woman with a hat affixed with red poppies had appeared. But Farasha didn’t seem to be killing the birds. Instead, she had extended her hands as if in supplication. Slowly, carefully, she was siphoning away the alien energies that had warped and twisted them into monsters.
Still furious, Hannah lifted off and flew up to the same elevation as Farasha. As she approached, the birds shrank down and then turned into black raptors with red faces, some sort of hawk or vulture by the look of it. The birds looked stunned and weak, and Farasha let them roost on her shoulders as she turned to face Hannah.
“Hey there!” Farasha said, her voice that annoyingly chipper cadence as usual. “Fancy meeting you here, Bitch Militia. Now, I’d love for us to continue our little hater-off, but unfortunately, I think we both have much better things to do, don’t you?”
“What are you doing here?” Hannah growled, and found that her whole body was trembling with barely contained wrath. “Has there not been enough death and destruction here? Or was just one Kurd being here enough to call you in to finish the job.”
One of the birds hopped up on top of Farasha’s head, which should have made her look patently ridiculous. Instead, it made her look even more like the God of Death than she normally did. Hannah expected to see her own fury and rage mirrored in Farasha’s face. Instead, the other woman just looked exhausted.
“Hannah…” Farasha began, but she cut her off.
“Shut up! Keep my name out of your filthy mouth!”
“Fine. Miss Miltia.” Farasha mimed hearing something, then said, “Ring ring!” and pretended to pick up phone. “Hello? Oh, I see. Mhmm, mhmm. Yes!” She extended it to Hannah. “It’s for you.”
Hannah just glared back, and Farasha sighed, and flicked away the pretend phone. “Pick up the phone, Colonel. They say to grow the fuck up. Yes, I’m a genocidal monster. Thanks, we all know that. However, I’m also a completely immortal, unkillable genocidal monster. As I’m pretty sure you established back in Kazakhstan. So, you can either continue to pitch a fit like a little bitch, or maybe you can realize that I haven’t actually been slaughtering my way through innocent lives in years. I’m here for the same reason you are. To save people.”
“And why should I believe you for even a moment?” Hannah demanded.
Farasha raised an eyebrow, then pointed to the two birds on herself. “Kinda walked into that one.”
“So you saved a couple of birds. So what?”
“And the village,” Farasha said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “Which, by the way, I am continuing to do while we have this conversation.”
Hannah started, then looked past Farasha, then over her shoulder. She’d been so focused on Farasha’s physical form that she’d forgotten this human body wasn’t the real Farasha, just a clever contrivance. All around them, swarms of butterflies were burning away the toxic amounts of elemental energy. Some of them were also destroying slimes, or in the case of Pyro Slimes, absorbing them, but most seemed to be trying to save the mutated animals, as Farasha had done with the birds.
With a little optical enhancement, Hannah was also able to see butterflies burning away wreckage. Even as she watched, a destroyed house was burned away, rescuing a family that had been trapped inside. And, a moment later, flames wrapped around them, healing their wounds…and even rebuilding their house. Instead of the previous construction of wood, thatch, and mud, black carbon replaced it in a distinctly Persian style. Not that the family would probably care. Shelter was shelter.
Hannah gritted her teeth, then jerked a nod. “Fine. So you’re pretending to be a good girl. Don’t think I’m fooled.”
“I don’t.” Farasha was quiet for a moment and raised her arm with the bird on it. It hopped off, then flew away, the one on her hat joining its companion a moment later. Farasha watched them go, then turned to Hannah. “You’re one of the only ones, you know?”
“Only ones what?” Hannah asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
“Who still remembers. It’s like, I did a couple of OKish things, and the world just…forgot.” Farasha made a face, and for the first time, Hannah saw the old venom and anger that had always dominated Farasha before. “It’s like I never even burned all those villages. Slaughtered all those people. You save one island from an Endbringer, and all of a sudden, you’re a hero. Fucking disgusting, isn’t it?”
Hannah didn’t know what to say. She agreed, but she found that she couldn’t vocalize actual agreement with this…thing. This alien menace!
Wait, no, that wasn’t right. Farasha…Farasha wasn’t an alien. She wasn’t an Archon, or Scion. She was just a woman, like Hannah, who had been given great power. Unlike Hannah, she’d just used her power to oppress and slaughter, instead of to serve and protect.
Then the bitterness was gone, and Farasha pasted back on that false smile. “So I’m counting on you, Bitch Militia!”
“For what?” Hannah demanded sourly, though she hated herself for how petulant she sounded.
“To keep reminding me, and the world, that I’m not to be forgiven. Not to be trusted. That I am a monster. That I am the thing that goes bump in the night. I am the one that parents warn their children about, because if they’re not good, a burning butterfly will fly through their window one day, and consume their very soul.”
Flames flickered in Farasha’s eyes, and Hannah drew back slightly, flinching away from the sheer menace. “So keep reminding them. But don’t get in my way. Not as long as I’m actually doing good. So. You take that side, and I’ll take this side. We help these people. I’ve got enough red in my ledger to last lifetimes, but I’m going to try putting some black in. The books never balance, that’s not how it works, but at the very least, let me do something fucking decent with all this power I have. The alternative is a whole lot fucking worse, don’t you think?”
Hannah gritted her teeth…but jerked a nod. “Fine. But I’m watching. You kill even one innocent, destroy even one life…and me and my team will end you. I’ll find a way.”
Farasha raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Well, if you do find a way to kill me and keep me dead, let me know. I’m not that suicidal anymore, but if post-partum hits me again…whoo boy! Haha, you did not want to see me on those days! Fucking brutal. You’ve never had kids, right?”
A pang filled Hannah, and she thought about the abortion she’d had, and the fallout. In some ways, she blamed herself for David’s betrayal. Even if that was bullshit, and it had been her choice.
“...oh. Well, I mean,” Farasha shrugged. “Maybe I should have had an abortion, too. I just…well. Never thought I’d be able to have a kid, you know?”
“You don’t deserve that happiness,” Hannah whispered.
Farasha recoiled from her, a real look of pain on her face. A tear trickled down her face, and Farasha bowed her head, still floating in midair. “Yeah. Yeah. I know. Fuck me, right? Well. You better get to work, Miss Hero. Keep me on the straight and narrow.”
Then, Farasha flew off, leaving Hannah floating in midair.
After a few moments, she opened a channel. “Colonel Jones to all squads: Be advised that Farasha is in the vicinity. Keep an eye out for her, but at this time do not, I repeat, do not engage. She’s outside of our weight class, and for now, seems to be helping with recovery efforts. Colonel Jones over and out.”
Then, stomach roiling, Hannah turned and went to go help another village that was dealing with a monster invasion. She would keep an eye on Farasha, but for now, they had bigger fish to fry.
But one day…one day, she’d settle that debt.
One of the things that Alexandria had needed to accept about her husband was that Wyatt was a scatterbrained packrat. The most irritating form of this came in his habit of holding on to old socks or shirts until they were holier than a Priest on Sunday. His workshop was similarly full of piles of what she would have considered old junk: Microwaves that should have been thrown away from breakrooms, old cables for computers or headphones, dented appliances, and bits and pieces of cars.
At the moment, most of that had been cleared away, making way for the two large devices set up on the workshop floor, and Alexandria folded her arms, giving Wyatt a bemused smile. He had that “kid in a candy shop” look that he got when he went into a Tinker Fugue. She leaned up against the wall, folding her arms and giving her husband an indulgent smile. It was a bit of a relief to see Wyatt simply tinkering again. She’d been worrying about him lately. Wyatt didn’t smile as much anymore. And at night, what he muttered in his sleep…it was disturbing.
“Alright, what is it you’ve got to show me?” Alexandria asked, not bothering to keep the amusement out of her voice.
“Something that changes everything, Becky!” Wyatt said eagerly. He flipped open a panel on one of the machines and showed her the guts. She straightened up and paced forward, frowning at the interior.
“Rows of abyssal crystals?” she said.
“Yes! But watch!” Wyatt closed the panel, and the machine hummed to life. Shortly, the machine hummed to life. It was about the size of a refrigerator, with various dials and hoses, and had large power cables going out of the back.
Wyatt tapped one of the dials, which looked like it had been ripped out of an old voltmeter. “Look at this, Alex! It’s producing 438 megawatts per hour!”
That got Alexandria’s attention. She examined the panel and nodded. “That is impressive. But is the energy clean? We’ve seen the corrosive effect Abyssal energy has. Can it be extracted safely?”
“That’s the ingenious part! This scrubber, here, runs it through an array of electro crystals. That purifies the power! Plus, then…well. Watch.”
The second device worked on the Abyssal Power, apparently cleaning it. There was some sort of drip connected to a vial, which was slowly filling with a clear liquid. Once the vial was filled, Wyatt retrieved it, then beckoned Alexandria forward. A door opened, and they stepped into a Cauldron Facility, where a tech took the vial from Wyatt. The tech stepped into a surgery room, where a 30 something latino man with short-cropped brown hair was waiting, strapped into a chair. She had on a PRT trooper's PT uniform, and the tech picked up a clipboard and began asking some questions.
“Name?”
“Staff Sergeant Daniel Reyes,” the man said, his eyes facing forward.
“Age?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Date of birth?”
The tech ran through the standard questions, while Wyatt quietly explained, “He’s a top-tier candidate for the PATRIOT program. It takes the purification machine about 100 hours to produce one vial at that level of output. What you saw was the highly concentrated and refined product.”
“Wyatt, you can’t tell me you’ve seriously solved our vial cape problems?” Alexandria asked, her voice quiet, but excited.
“He has,” a familiar voice said, and Alexandria turned to see Dr. Mother approaching. She nodded to Alexandria and Wyatt. “Or at least, he claims to.”
“This isn’t the first test subject,” Wyatt explained. “But, unlike the regular Abyssal Vial capes, this seems to actually allow us to grant powers again. Just watch.”
The vial was hooked up to a drip machine and then to an IV line already in Sergeant Reye’s arm. He grunted and made a face. “Stings a little. It’s cold.”
“If there’s a burning sensation or any real discomfort, let us know,” the tech said, and scribbled down the note.
The sergeant nodded, but just waited. After a few minutes, the full vial was administered.
“Huh. Don’t feel any different,” the Sergeant said, holding a bit of gauze to where the IV had been as it was quickly removed. “Thought this was supposed to give me powers. You know, make me a real PATRIOT.”
“Right this way. Your vial has to be activated,” the tech said, and let the Sergeant up, then led him into the next room.
Reyes was placed in a machine that looked a bit like a faraday cage, with coils of wires running all around it.
“The real key was tapping into the Abyss’s nature as a mimic,” Wyatt explained. “It’s going to give powers, but only once the vial is activated by exposing it to certain forms of radiation. Which are going to contain the same types of energy that a parahuman would possess. Becky, I want you to stop into that matching cage there.”
Wyatt pointed to another cage on the outside of the room. Alexandria frowned at it. “And it will do what, exactly?”
“Just trust me on this one,” Wyatt said, and flashed that boyish grin.
For a moment, Alexandria hesitated. Her Thinker powers worked double over time. Wyatt had been different. But then again, they all had. Endless battles first against Endbringers, then against the Tsaritsa, and now, the Abyss. If this were a way to end it…she had to trust Wyatt. Had to trust her husband. This was the man she loved, wasn’t it?
She stepped in, and Dr. Mother helped strap her down. A moment later, the cage glowed with Abyssal energy, though Alexandria didn’t feel a thing, as usual. Well, aside from a gnawing hunger in her gut and soul.
However, inside, the Sergeant cried out, gasping in pain. “I see it! The endless, all consuming void! It hungers, it seeks it-”
He trailed off into a wordless howl, his body glowing with dark power.
“Aaaaaaand….cut it off,” Wyatt said, and pressed a button. The power on both sides was cut off, and the Sergeant sagged.
“Hmmm, last one didn’t do that,” Wyatt mused, rubbing his chin. “But then again, we just used a standard Blaster/Mover with a lower power rating…”
“Is he alive?” Dr. Mother asked, speaking into a microphone.
Two techs hurried over, but they soon turned and nodded. “Just unconscious.”
“Right. Move him to recovery, then,” Doctor Mother ordered, and stepped to another room.
“Damn,” Wyatt said, leaning on the control panel. He passed a hand over his eyes, and that boyish look was gone, replaced by the same weariness and defeat that Alexandria felt. “I had just hoped…after Sao Luis…we needed a win.”
Alexandria went over and put a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. He reached up, putting his own over hers. “It’s alright. It was worth a try. You said you had one success?”
“Yes, but with a low-level cape. Not with someone of any real power,” Wyatt said, straightening up and giving Alexandria a tired smile. “I had just hoped…Albedo even gave this project a 78.4% chance of working.”
“Not even our best Thinker is infallible. You know what,” Alexandria told him, rubbing his back.
Wyatt sagged slightly. “Yeah, I guess.”
Alexandria shoved him with her hip. “Wanna get something to eat? Your favorite. We can take a special trip.”
Wyatt brightened. “Yeah, In-N-Out sounds good tonight.”
Alexandria froze. No. That wasn’t right. Wyatt’s favorite wasn’t In-N-Out. He’d always found their fries to be trash and the burgers only so-so, which was heresy for a Californian. No, his favorite was a tiny little taqueria near PRT Los Angeles, called Patricios. It wasn’t that Wyatt didn’t like burgers, but for him to ask for In-N-Out-
“He’s awake,” Doctor Mother said, interrupting Alexandria’s train of thought. She beckoned them over, and both hurried to the window.
There, they saw Sergeant Reyes flexing his muscles. “Huh, I don’t feel anything. It’s…weird.”
“We’ll run some tests, but look,” Dr. Mother pointed to the screen. “His Corona Pollentia…it’s a near-perfect match for yours, Rebecca. I think this may have succeeded, Wyatt.”
“Any signs of Abyssal corruption? It’s killed or mutated all the candidates Honey gives us,” Wyatt said, his grin back in place.
“Too soon to tell. We’ll keep him under observation for 72 hours. Most Abyssal Corruption shows within 24. And we’ll run some purification tests. But I think this is a success,” Dr. Mother said with a nod.
Wyatt cheered and pumped his fist, then turned and kissed Rebecca. “Come on! Burgers and shakes sound real good now!”
Wyatt did a goofy little dance, then strutted off, his confidence back. Rebecca smiled. Maybe he was just hungry for home. Living in DC was stressful and different. And people’s tastes changed. She did love In-N-Out herself, especially animal style. She forced her fears to the back of her mind again. This was Wyatt. And they were succeeding.
“A new source of vial capes gives us a major leg up. How fast can we produce them?”
“The vials likely won’t be the issue once we spin up production; we’ll have more than we need,” Dr. Mother said with a shake of her head. “No, the bottleneck will be our screening and evaluation process. Gone are the days we kidnap random subjects from other, alternate dimensions.”
“Not in the least because there don’t seem to be many left,” Alexandria said, making a face. “And all the ones we do find are either empty or contaminated by the Abyss.”
“This was always the prime battleground. The Earth that mattered. It makes sense we fight here,” Dr. Mother said with a shrug. “Scion doesn’t seem to be moving things up.”
How could they shrug? Billions or trillions were dead. But the concept of infinite other Earths was…hard to wrap your head about. Alexandria couldn’t do more than shrug herself.
That night, they had In N Out Burger together. Wyatt laughed, picking up his fries and dumping them in Alexandria’s tray. “You know, I had forgotten how much I hated these. Next time, I think we either get Five Guys, or tacos. What was the name of that place we used to go? I can’t remember.”
“Patricios. It’s where we’d always go when things were crazy and we needed something comforting,” Alexandria said.
“Oh. Yeah,” Wyatt’s expression fell, and he looked down at his hands. “I…forgot. There are…holes. Gaps.”
“It’s fine,” Alexandria told him, giving him a tight hug. “The important thing is, you used the mimicry of the Abyss to let us copy our strongest capes.”
“Probably won’t be as powerful as you. Definitely not as good looking,” Wyatt joked, and Alexandria laughed.
“Even a cape half as powerful as I am is a serious boost to our forces. You did well. I’m proud,” she told him.
“Thank you, Madam President,” Wyatt said, and kissed her.
If his lips were a bit cold, Alexandria told herself that it was fine.
In the coming days and weeks, Sergeant Reyes and the first test subject would at first do well in the fighting. However, with increased exposure to the Abyss, or just enough time, their powers frayed, and their minds decayed. It was eventually discovered that medication could treat the disease, suppressants that kept the Abyssal power controlled and stable. The medication was simple to manufacture, and the project was moved forward as a part of the Patriot Program.
Over years, it was found that many subjects began to grow resistant to the medication. Their minds weakened, and their powers increased. Some were treated by the Slug, others with increased dosages. It was deemed a necessary precaution, but a few were even quietly put down.
But the ticking Abyssal bomb at the heart of Cauldron and the Protectorate’s program was quietly ignored.
Until, on one Golden Morning, it could be ignored no longer.
But that was nearly a decade away. And humans have never been good at assessing risks and threats that will only arrive years and years away.
The Archons, however, noted yet another similarity to the Eclipse Dynasty. And prepared their own contingencies.