Sol Invictus 5: Crossing the Threshold
The map of the globe glowed with hundreds of red lights, many packed so tightly together that the individual pinpricks blurred into burning wounds. Beside it, a second map displayed purple markers: active, or formerly active, Abyssal Incursion Zones.
The one-to-one match was impossible to miss.
Wyatt sighed and nodded. “All right, Albedo. I think we can draw the appropriate conclusions from your graphic. The numbers?”
The homunculus did not bat an eye. He clicked to the next slide.
Around the table sat department heads from Cauldron, the PRT, and the Protectorate, most of them R&D. The team leads and combat experts were still in the field. Here, beneath Cheyenne Mountain, they were trying to understand what had just changed.
“A full count is still coming in,” Albedo said, the next slide showing a graph of various stars that had suddenly become elementally linked, burning with a new red light in the night sky. “Currently, we have 631 catalogued constellations, but my estimate is that the final number will be closer to double that: somewhere around 1,200 new Vision Holders.”
A chart appeared, six elemental sigils arranged in descending order. Electro still stood highest, at approximately 1800 known Vision Holders, the product of seven years of accumulation. But Pyro now burned beneath it, at 1,200, outstripping Anemo’s 1,000 known holders. An absurd number for the element's first 24 hours of activity.
“This raises Pyro Visions to the second most common type globally,” Albedo stated. “Its numbers rival Hydro, Cryo, and Dendro combined. Only Electro, which has been present for seven years, surpasses it.”
The room was quiet.
Wyatt frowned, drumming his fingers on the table. His skin itched. It did that when he retained his human form. He needed another decon. Too much Abyssal energy building up again. But, with the decon, the memories…
Time for that later.
“Do we think the criteria for attaining a Pyro Vision is just that much easier to fulfill? We’ve never seen anything else like this,” Wyatt said, scratching at himself unconsciously.
Albedo shook his head. “Negative. Previously, we saw a slight burst of initial Vision bestowal upon a new Archon’s arrival, but nothing on this scale.”
He tapped on his pad, bringing up a smaller set of graphs, showing activity in the past day since the major event.
“It is possible the restrictions on obtaining a Vision have loosened. However, we have not seen an uptick in the rate of new Visions of other elements. And, while we are still cataloguing new Pyro Visions, it seems that only one or two new ones have been granted in the last 24 hours since the appearance of the Archon.”
“Was this some sort of automatic reaction to the Abyss, or did the Archon personally decide to arm over a thousand people?” the Director of PRT New York’s research team demanded.
Albedo shifted fractionally, a clear sign of discomfort from the normally precise homunculus.
“Unknown.”
That brought an even deeper silence. Those present were used to having answers. The arrival of a new Archon was always most disturbing to them because it proved how little they truly understood.
“Right,” Wyatt grunted, shifting in his seat. He made a gesture with his left hand. “And the Archon?”
A new slide clicked over, and a video played. It was being taken from a shaky camera by someone at Ground Zero, at Estadio Azteca in Mexico City. The person taking the video was babbling and crying in Spanish. Wyatt knew enough from high school courses to know they were praying.
A battle was underway, with the deafening curtain tearing sound of machine gun fire clearly audible, elemental rounds and tracers cutting into Abyssal forces attacking the stadium. It was a classic desperate last stand, and one that was clearly doomed to end in a massacre. The defenders were heavily outnumbered, and their ammo reserves had to be getting low.
“¡Dios mío… Virgencita de Guadalupe, no nos desampares!”
“The speaker requests the aid of the Virgin of Guadalupe and the Christian deity," Albedo stated without emotion. He gestured to the screen. “And…marker.”
There was a blinding flash that made Wyatt blink despite himself, and the sky went from the black of midnight to the light of sudden dawn.
“¡Madre Santísima… es un milagro! ¡Es un milagro! ¡El sol está peleando por nosotros!”
The speaker was babbling and praying again. Wyatt wondered why Albedo had not simply muted the audio. The commentary was completely useless. The sudden cheering in the background did not help. It especially did not improve the horrendous camera work.
The footage deteriorated almost at once. Whoever was holding the camera was screaming, shouting incoherently, and probably jumping up and down, judging by the way the image shook. Even with the Cauldron techs’ attempts at stabilization, the footage was nearly useless.
Then the image sharpened. Only for a moment, but it was enough.
A woman wreathed in flame stood before Apep, wielding a great two-handed sword as if it weighed nothing. She drove the blade into the Final Endbringer’s coils, forcing the serpent back.
Apep hissed and recoiled, dark ichor spilling from several wounds across its hide and burning where her fire touched it.
The footage dissolved back into chaos: light, smoke, cheering, sobbing prayers, and useless fragments of celebrating civilians.
Wyatt leaned back, jaw tight.
“Alright, that’s enough. Is this really the best imaging we have?” he asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.
Albedo paused the image and rolled it back, focusing on the moment the Archon became fully visible as the camera automatically adjusted.
“Subject A-05. Designated Pyro Archon,” Albedo said. “Combat ability is still being evaluated. Minimum Striker 10. Full classification pending. Existing PRT categories are proving inadequate.”
“Obviously,” Wyatt said dryly. “She’s an Archon. What I want to know is: who is she?”
More images appeared of the Archon. Again, the footage quality was poor. Probably recorded on someone’s phone, and the audio was awful. However, the Archon had turned off her flames, and seemed to be…
“Pause, and zoom in,” Wyatt said, standing up and pacing over to the screen. Albedo obeyed, and Wyatt studied the image. Something was wrong.
“Are we certain this is the same woman?” he asked, turning to Albedo.
The homunculus consulted his notes, then nodded. “Yes. Certainly over 99%. We have visual continuity.”
“She looks…” Wyatt struggled, studying the woman. At last, he was able to articulate what his gut was telling him. “...human.”
“All known Archons take on the form of bipedal humanoids that closely resemble Homo sapiens,” Albedo agreed.
“No, not what I mean,” Wyatt said, pointing to her face. “Look at that! She’s got wrinkles! I think that’s even a pimple scar. She’s sweating and dirty. She looks like she came off a battlefield.”
“Director, what the hell are you talking about?” one of the R&D heads demanded. “She just did! She fought Apep, and you’re quibbling that she’s got a bit of dirt and smile lines?”
“Pull up an image of Raiden after her fight with Leviathan, and compare the two images,” Wyatt ordered, tapping his foot in irritation.
Albedo quickly did, and Wyatt examined the two faces and nodded. He turned around and pointed. “See?”
There were some confused mutters. “They don’t look anything alike,” someone remarked.
They didn’t: Raiden was serene, calm, and clearly in utter command of the situation. Her hair was perfectly coiffed with not a single strand out of place, and her clothing was unrumpled and pristine. There wasn’t a blemish or mark on her skin, aside from the beauty mark under Raiden’s right eye. That was more like a deliberate imperfection added by an artist than an actual flaw. It made her more compelling and attractive, not less.
But not human.
Wyatt turned back to the image of the new Pyro Archon. She was smiling and triumphant, covered in soot, sweat, and glory. Her clothing looked like she’d stepped off an ancient mesoamerican battlefield, but it was tarnished, torn in some places, and had signs of obvious repair and wear.
She didn’t look like an ancient and immovable god.
But she did appear unmistakably human.
“That,” he said quietly, “is not the same type of being.”
“But, she’s an Archon,” someone protested.
“Additional data is available that may support Director Costa-Brown’s hypothesis,” Albedo said, tapping a few buttons.
The still image began to move, and the Archon spoke. The audio had been cleaned up enough that her words were discernible, but not understandable.
“Nimitzmoteochīhua īca in Teōtl Tletl. Mā xiquimmācaci! Nihuāllāuh in monēchīcāuh īhuān in motlapōuhcāuh!”
Albedo provided the monotone translation: “I bless you with the Divine Hearth-Flame. Fear not! I have come as your ally, your friend.”
Wyatt began to pace, flexing his hands. “Do we have any recorded instances of an Archon ever speaking in a language people couldn’t understand? Even digital recordings of them auto-translate.”
Albedo cocked his head to one side for a moment as the room erupted in mutters of surprise.
Wyatt held up a hand and silence fell, until Albedo shook his head. “Negative. No such recordings exist. All Archon speech is automatically rendered as the listener’s native tongue. Even digital recordings.”
Slowly, Wyatt stepped back before the image of the grinning Archon.
So. The rules had changed. But how?
“What is her name?” he asked, nodding to the image.
“She has identified herself as Mavuika, in addition to the Goetic name Haborym, and Kiongozi, something she calls an Ancient Name. We do not yet know what this distinction signifies.”
Wyatt considered. “Three names. Those sound like entirely different linguistic roots.”
“Yes,” Albedo agreed. “Māori-derived, Latinized Goetic, and Swahili.”
“Claimed ideal?” Wyatt asked. All the Archons had one. Eternity, Freedom, Wisdom, Love, and Justice. All seemed to govern some part of their personality or powers, though the relation was hotly debated by their Thinkers and researchers.
Albedo met Wyatt’s gaze. “War.”
A slow grin formed on Wyatt’s lips, as the endless Hunger within him snarled. “Well. At least she’s honest.”
He turned to the directors. “I want an emergency directive sent out: Pyro Archon to be considered an immediate hostile threat. All Pyro Vision Holders in Hegemony territory are to be detained and interrogated.”
There was a startled murmur, and someone dared to ask, “Sir, all of them?”
He glared at the upstart. “Do I need to repeat myself? No? Good.”
Taking a deep breath, he spread his hands on the table, leaning forward. “We have to assume this is some sort of destabilization attack. They changed the formula: We need to be prepared for anything. Assume this Mavuika will make good on her promise of War sooner rather than later. Let’s get some hard data on what she and her new little problems are, people!”
The lights came on, and the directors and researchers broke into nervous chatter as they rose from their chairs and headed for the Doors being summoned for them. Fear filled the room, sharp and hot, and beneath it came the familiar tang of hunger.
Wyatt inhaled deeply. Good. They understood the stakes.
Wyatt turned back to the picture. Something within him, a memory, or a fragment of broken fate, stirred.
A woman of flames, alone, falling into an endless Abyss. A sword broken and shattered.
He shook his head, trying to dismiss the echo, but a voice lingered in his ears.
You ignited a fire that you could not control... Beneath the veil... There is only darkness!
He clenched a fist, gritting his teeth. Not his memory. One of those intrusive thoughts from his time trapped in the Abyss. But a shape of things to come, perhaps.
Let us see, Lord of War, who triumphs this time, a voice snarled within him.
Surely it was his own.
He scratched his too-tight skin. He needed a decon before he went to see Rebecca.
He made his own passage, cutting a hole through the Abyss, and strode into the darkness.
The second sun was just setting as Victoria sighted the shadow of a low lying island in the distance. Molokaʻi was behind them, with West Maui off to the left and Lānaʻi to the right. Or, well, port and starboard, Vicky guessed. She’d never been much of a sailor.
“I can see it!” she shouted from atop the mast of the large yacht they’d ‘borrowed’.The yacht had two sails rigged, and the engine was rumbling along as well. “Dead ahead!”
“Chee-hoo!” Mualani cheered, pumping her fist. She raced up the mast and shaded her eyes, grinning widely as she examined the distant island. “That’s it! We get there plenty quick! Just a little while longer, Amy!”
Amy gave a shaky thumbs up from where she was clinging to the rail and looking as green as her Vision. She’d been fine at first, but once they’d entered the open ocean and hit the waves, Victoria’s little sister had rapidly deteriorated, and had unfortunately been rather seasick the whole way over. She’d only vomited noisily twice, after which, Barbara had found some Dramamine and dosed her thoroughly.
“Super. Can’t wait to go from being sick, to fighting horrible monsters again,” Amy groaned as Victoria slid down the mast and landed on the deck.
She had on her ‘badass Hawaiian warrior’ costume, as provided by Charlotte. It was woven from red-accented kapa cloth, with geometric patterns evocative of spreading flames. She had on sandals that laced all the way up her calves, and a ti leaf lei at her wrists and ankles woven with ʻōhiʻa lehua blossoms. On her head was a lei poʻo that Mualani had helped her make, formed from ferns and red orchids.
All in all, it was pretty cool, especially since Charlotte said the materials were imbued with Elemental Energy, and would actually help protect her in battle. Amy and Mualani had similar outfits, though with an emphasis on green flowers for Amy to complement her Dendro Vision. Barbara had also helped them create their own heraldry: a crown for Victoria, a healing herb for Amy, and a Hawaiian monk seal for Mualani.
“You want to, you know, have us land somewhere and drop you off?” Victoria asked quietly.
Amy turned a glare on Victoria fierce enough to make her step back and raise her hands in surrender. “Ok, ok! Just asking! You shouldn’t fight if you’re sick…”
“I’ll be fine as soon as I have land under me again,” Amy mumbled, turning back to look at the horizon. Supposedly, that helped. “Besides, if I take my eyes off of you, one of you guys is going to get yourselves hurt. I’d never forgive myself if I couldn’t take care of my sister or her friends.”
“Your friends!” Mualani said cheerfully as she tended to the sail. “We not just Vicky’s friends! We you friends too, Amy!”
“Oui! We are com-rades, non?” an utterly outrageous French voice called.
“Together, we embark upon zis intrepid expédition, zis voyage of danger, mystery, and extremely important journalism, where we shall un-co-vair ze dark secret at ze very ’eart of a forbidden island!” Charlotte chortled happily from the prow, where she had been furiously taking notes and snapping pictures the entire voyage.
Victoria narrowed her eyes at the pink haired frog. “You do that on purpose, don’t you?”
Charlotte gasped and put a hand to her breast, eyes fluttering dramatically. “Moi!? You accuse moi of being ze fake French? Sacré bleu! I shall ’ave you know zat, unlike my poor unfortunate seester, I am FULLY, MAGNIFICENTLY, IRREVO-CAB-LY FRENCH! From ze top of my head to ze soles of mon shoes! HON HON HON! Is zat not so, Bar-ba-RAH?”
“She is absolutely doing zis on purpose. She thinks it is funny,” Barbara called from the helm, rolling her eyes. “When we take our English exams, ‘er accent is a bit thick, but ‘er pronunciation is much better.”
Victoria folded her arms over her chest and smirked at Charlotte, who batted her eyelashes guilelessly.
“You wanna hear one secret?” Mualani said in a stage whisper, hand beside her mouth. She grinned, then said, “I can speak perfect haole! I just speak pidgin because that’s what all my friends do! Feels more natural, yeah? but if I have to I can sound like Miss Hoity-Toity Army Brat. I get all A’s in school! Drive my kumu CRAZY when I go all local girl on them.”
“Vicky got a B once,” Amy said, smirking. “You should have seen the epic melt down. She argued the teacher was biased. I pointed out she hadn’t bothered to study for our history test, even though I did offer to do it with her. She went out instead. Mom was livid. Was going to ground her for a week. Then Dad intervened and pointed out that a B is a perfectly good grade, and she would do better next time.”
“That’s because learning about some dead people from a kajillion years ago is boring as hell,” Victoria grumbled, blushing. She shrugged. “I still got an overall A in the class.”
“But mine was hiiiigherrrr~,” Amy sang impudently.
Victoria growled and made a face, then laughed along with the others.
Then, sobering, they all turned towards the island, which was slowly growing ever larger on the horizon.
Dark clouds hovered over the low mountain, and there were deep shadows that seemed wrong, especially with two suns in the sky. The waves around the island were larger, more foreboding, and Victoria thought she could hear the sound of wailing in the distance.
“Is it just me, or…does it look…dark?” Victoria asked quietly.
“Not just you,” Charlotte said, the silly ancient evaporating. “It is very bad, oui. The island, he is…evil. Zis is what Furina warned us about.”
“The pop star?” Victoria asked, incredulous. Mina had burned a couple of Furina CDs and given them to her and Amy when she’d found out they had loved Furina’s videos before they got banned.
“Oui. She is my step-mozzer.” Charlotte’s solemn expression lasted for perhaps three seconds before her eyes began to sparkle again. “You have seen ‘er channel, non? Barbara and I, we make zat. Good, oui?”
“Stop chattering like a bunch of squirrels, and get ze gardemeks ready for ze landing!” Barbara barked.
Charlotte snapped off a salute. “Oui, mon capitaine !” Then she marched off, whistling La Marseillaise.
With nothing better to do, Victoria went down to the hold, where Charlotte had a wrench out, and was adjusting the dozen giant robots they had loaded into the passenger seats.
“Uh, anything I can do?” Victoria asked, glancing around at the machines. They looked complicated, but Charlotte didn’t seem like a Tinker or anything. She was just a regular Vision Holder.
An outrageously French Vision Holder, admittedly.
“Oui! Ze meks, zey are très simple, eh? Here, I show you. It is like zis,” Charlotte said, then began explaining the basic principles of gardemek field repair. “You are a Vision ’older, so ze fixenings, it is even easier for you!”
It turned out it really was simple. Victoria didn’t consider herself a nerd or anything, but after ten minutes or so, she had figured out the basic principles of how to repair and attune the gardemeks. It would have been a little difficult to adjust their control matrix without a Vision, you needed a consistent source of elemental energy to manage it, but her Pyro Vision made it a snap.
“Hmm, I am having ze wonderings, could you be attuning one of zem to Pyro?” Charlotte mused as they disassembled one of the mek’s guns that had been manfunctioning. “Ze reaction, it is most useful, oui? If we are making ze, ’ow do you call eet?”
“Vaporize?” Victoria suggested.
Charlotte snapped her fingers. “Oui, oui, zat! We are making ze vaporize, and poof! The monsters, they are having ze serious hurtenings!”
“You’re doing it again,” Victoria giggled, grinning at her new friend’s antics. Then she stared at the elemental capacitor. It had cracked and the stored Hydro had leaked out. She took a bit of simple duct tape and patched it, then put her hand on the container and concentrated.
Flames burst from her fingertips, and the capacitor hummed, absorbing the Pyro. Soon, the capacitor was full. Unlike the others, which glowed a Hydro blue, this one glowed with the crimson of Pyro.
“Hah! Yes! Ed-zachary!” Charlotte cheered. “Hmm, ‘ow many are you zinking we should be making Pyro?”
“Um, probably just this one,” Victoria admitted sheepishly, shaking out her hand. “That was…a lot of energy. I feel a bit weak, actually. Maybe if we had a fire I could use as a source? But…uh, I think that’s like, a super bad idea on a boat.”
“Probably, probably,” Charlotte admitted. She cast around the boat, and her expression fell. She shivered slightly. “Zee shadows…zey are getting darker? Zis is not just me, oui?”
“No,” Victoria said, then raised her Vision. “But that’s alright. The heroes are here. And we bring the Dawn.”
There was a baying of hounds on deck, and both girls dropped the tools with a clang. Charlotte’s catalyst book fell into her hands, while Victoria ignited her fists, heedless of the danger. Both raced up to the deck, where shouts and howls echoed.
They found Mualani and Amy finishing off a lone rift hound. The creature was already Burning, and it whined as it splashed into the waves. A moment later, a Dendro core exploded in a Burgeon reaction, rocking the boat slightly.
“Someting very wrong wit dat island,” Mualani said, her expression grim. She picked up one of the extra spears they’d scavenged from a PRT supply cache, and tossed it to Victoria, who snatched it out of the air.
“Yeah,” Amy agreed, her seasickness forgotten. She gripped her caster wand, which began to glow, bits of vine sprouting from it. “Everyone ready?”
“No,” Victoria admitted. “Let’s do it anyway.”
More monsters began to manifest around the boat, from horrific fish that leaped up out of the waves and snapped at them, to rift hounds and Abyssal Mimics that popped out of portals.
The mimics took a variety of disturbing shapes, and Victoria felt sick as one of them resolved into Amy. It drifted towards her, extending its arms. Sister, please! You have to stop this! You don’t have to hurt anyone! Just, just stop!
“Oh, screw you!” Victoria snarled and hit the monster with a flaming fist.
The image flickered, then resolved back to Amy, a horrible burn on her cheek now.
Why, Vicky! I love you! Please….
“You’re not my sister,” Victoria whispered, but she had to blink away tears. Damn demons. Then she roundhouse kicked the monster into the sea, where it Vaporized and turned to ooze. She was tempted to get as seasick as her sister had, but just then, Barbara called,
“I am not slowing ze boat! Zhere is no dock!” Barbara called. “Brace for impact!” Gritting her teeth, Victoria bent her legs slightly, fingers tight on the wooden haft of her spear. It was an old spear, one of the ones imbued with memory and power that were usually distributed to capes. It had a sharpened whalebone tip, carved with wavy lines and triangles in some sort of pattern Mualani had said represented Great Mana.
“Ku, if you’re listening, we could use the help! Just make sure we’re strong enough to fight!” Victoria shouted as the shore raced towards them.
They slammed into the rocks so hard that the metal hull of the boat shrieked and tore. If the passengers had been normal humans, there would have been broken bones and worse. But since they were all Vision Holders, all five girls landed intact, and immediately began fighting with the monsters that sprang up out of the dark mists that coated the island, even under the light of the noonday sun.
Sticking two fingers in her mouth, Charlotte whistled sharply and called, “Hé, les gars ! La justice nous appelle ! Aux armes ! “
The hull of the wrecked boat exploded outwards, and in a ruffle of drums and a blare of trumpets, the Gardemeks marched forth. They soon acquired targets, and began to blast away. Their shots were not terribly effective on their own, but they did manage to infuse the enemies with Hydro. That allowed Victoria to easily pull off the Vaporize reactions she needed to deal maximum damage.
Monster after monster went down, and soon, the five girls stood momentarily triumphant on the beach, the fog slowly receding.
“Anyone hurt?” Amy asked, looking around nervously.
“Pfff, those manini ones can’t scratch us,” Mualani snorted, flexing her bicep and grinning.
“Yeah, I’m good, thanks,” Victoria said with a nod. She frowned over at the Gardemeks, especially at the two musicians. “Charlotte, did you really have to go and program two to play instruments? It’s super cheesy, and they could be fighting.”
A cheshire grin sprouted on Charlotte’s face as Barbara turned bright red. “It was not moi ‘oo was telling zem to be playing ze music! Oh, Barb-ar-aaaa…would you be telling us why you are programming zee robots to be making zee musics?”
“...morale is zee most important part of fighting zee Abyss. I…I felt we needed…” Barbara licked her lips and trailed off, eyes downcast.
“That we needed to be EPIC!” Mualani cheered, and gave Barbara a quick hug. “Come on! Who’s got that map Ajaw gave us?”
Charlotte pulled out a folded map and quickly laid it out on the rocky shore. Victoria ignored the map, keeping her gaze on the shifting mists. There were shapes in them, and what felt like hungry eyes.
“We’re here,” Mualani said, and there was the squeak of a sharpie circling something. “The navigation equipment was bust up, but I keep an eye on the compass and our speed, yeah? And the coastline looks right for this. Sound good?”
“Oui, I am thinking are you being correct, though I am not a sailor,” Charlotte agreed, her tone sober again.
Amy stepped up next to Victoria, her own eyes watching the Abyss. “You think…you think this is what dad is seeing…wherever he is? H-he was in Yuma, last I heard…”
“Probably,” Victoria whispered. It didn’t feel right to shout. She gave Amy a smile full of courage she did not actually feel. “Bet he’d be super mad if he found out we stole a boat with two frogs and went to go blow up a top secret Hegemony facility.”
“He would be. But…I think he’d be proud, too. He…he told me…he was glad I got a Vision. Not…you know. Parahuman powers. He said…you get a shard if you’re broken.”
Victoria felt her throat clench up. That sounded all too real.
“Yeah,” she mumbled, trying to focus on the mists.
“Then he told me…you got a Vision if…well, if you’re a real hero,” Amy said. She took Victoria’s hand and squeezed. “I know he’ll be proud of you, too. Um, after he finishes grounding us for…forever.”
Burn bright. Be a hero.
She gripped her Vision and squared her shoulders. “If we save the world…totally worth it. Hey, Mualani, you figure out where we’re going yet?”
“For sure!” Mualani agreed, pointing her spear into the mists. “‘bout two miles dat way! By da old helipad, near da top a Puʻu Moaulanui. This route, I think it mostly clear of da old bombs and stuff. If not…well, maybe we have da meks go first, yeah?”
“Um…bombs?” Amy asked, her eyes widening. Charlotte and Barbara both flinched, looking at the rocks warily.
“Yeah, like dis one, see?” Mualani said, and used her spear to nudge what Victoria had thought was just a roundish rock. “Kahoʻolawe, da Target Isle. Da Navy shoot dis place up plenty.”
Victoria hissed and drew back. That wasn’t a rock! It was an old shell! “Lani! That stuff explodes!”
“Eh, we get shields and stuff, we gon’ be OK,” Mualani said, but hastily drew her spear away.
“Well,” Charlotte giggled, her eyes darting about the broken ground, “what is journalism without a little danger, eh?”
“Zee meks will go first,” Barbara said, and pointed in the direction Mualani had indicated. “Troupes, en avant !”
The meks stomped forward, the lead one soon vanishing into the mist. Victoria stepped carefully over the broken terrain, her eyes fixed on the ground, searching for more old shells.
That proved to be a mistake.
She didn’t even see the hilichurls charging out of the fog until it was nearly too late. Only Amy’s startled shout let her get a shield up in time.
A club slammed into her side, and Victoria grunted. Her hastily conjured barrier absorbed most of the impact, but it still hurt. She used her spear to slash and stab at the monster, then spun around as three more burst from the mist.
Charlotte and Barbara were already in trouble, both of them backing away as more hilichurls closed in. Their ranged weapons were useful at a distance. Here, surrounded on broken ground, they were being overwhelmed.
Victoria plowed through the hairy monsters with a shout, kicking one in the back and stabbing another through the ribs.
“FACE ME!”
Her attack drew the hilichurls’ attention.
Unfortunately, that meant it worked.
They pressed in on all sides, clubs and crude blades hammering against her shield. Victoria fought for her life, holding them off until Barbara and Charlotte managed to fire from the rear and drive the monsters back.
“Ah. Merde,” Charlotte gasped, pressing a hand to her side where a hilichurl arrow had struck her.
Amy was there in a flash. “This is going to hurt. Ready?”
Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.
Amy ripped the barbed shaft free. Charlotte screamed. Green light flashed, and the wound sealed shut, though Charlotte was left panting, sweat beading on her brow.
“Maybe we should call the meks back,” Victoria said, searching the mist for more threats.
BOOM.
The ground trembled. A moment later, a gardemek head spun out of the fog and bounced past Victoria.
All five girls froze.
“…Maybe we should let them play minesweeper,” Victoria amended, shivering slightly.
The two miles should have taken Victoria less than an hour at a leisurely pace, even over rough terrain.
Instead, it became a desperate, bloody, two-and-a-half-hour slog.
Thankfully, the mists were burning away behind them, as if each monster they killed removed a little more of the blight from the land. By the time they at last caught sight of the Hegemony lab, Victoria was bleeding from half a dozen wounds minor enough that Amy had given up on healing them to conserve her energy. They were down to only two gunner gardemeks, and Victoria found herself really missing the musicians. Cheesy or not, they had helped keep everyone moving.
The others were not in much better shape.
Charlotte’s glasses had cracked and shattered, forcing her to pull out a pair of plastic sports goggles and wear those instead. She walked with a limp, one shoe ragged and torn from a very near miss with an old bomb.
Barbara’s princess armor was torn and bloodied, and one of her pigtails had been half burned off. Even so, her expression remained stoic and defiant. She was out of arrows, too, and had drawn the short sword she carried as a sidearm.
Mualani remained cheerful despite everything, though even she had grown much more cautious. Her hair was tied up in a topknot bun, and her lei poʻo was gone, lost in one of the scuffles. Blood stained her clothes, and there were several large rips where Amy had been forced to save her from bleeding out after a Rifthound sank its fangs into her.
Amy hurt the most to look at.
She staggered forward, clutching Victoria’s spear and using it as a walking stick. Her left leg was bandaged from where a hilichurl arrow had taken her in the thigh. Victoria had pulled it out and used her Vision to heal the wound, but Pyro healing was much more painful than Dendro healing. It burned the wound shut, forced the bleeding to stop, and left Amy white-faced and trembling.
In hindsight, Victoria should have asked Barbara. Hydro users were well known to be excellent healers in general. But she had panicked when she saw all the blood gushing from her sister’s leg.
Victoria didn’t consider her own hurts worth cataloging.
She was on her feet. That meant she could still fight. Nothing else mattered.
Heroes didn’t quit.
“Well, there it is,” Victoria said, nodding. “We made it.”
“Ah, we just go in take a few photographies, and then poof! Destroy it! What could be simplier?” Charlotte laughed, but she sounded less cheerful and more exhausted.
“We will bring Justice,” Barbara agreed.
“Mālama ʻāina,” Mualani said, and tapped her spear butt on the stone.
Nodding, Amy whispered, “We heal this place.”
Victoria took a deep breath, and reached deep within herself, to where the fire dwelt. One last time, she drew on it. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
They moved forward cautiously, expecting more monsters. Instead, they found some strange metal posts driven into the ground. At the top was a wire housing with a crystal set in it, glowing faintly white. As they got closer, Victoria sensed the posts were emitting a steady pulse of elemental energy.
“Oh, thank the gods,” she gasped, and didn’t give a rip if that was an Archonist sentiment that could get you put on a list. She stumbled forward, ripped a post out of the ground, and hurried over to her sister with it. “Here! This will help!”
Amy grabbed the crystal at the top of the post with one hand, gasping in relief. Her Vision blazed with life, and when Amy opened her eyes, green life energy blazed there. She hastily healed all of Victoria’s injuries before she could protest, then hobbled over to the next one. “Come on, Barbara, I’ll heal you next!”
“No. It is your turn,” Barbara said, gently taking the crystal first. She put a hand on Amy’s shoulder, and Hydro flowed between them. Amy gasped and trembled as her injuries were washed away, then stood up straighter and handed the spear back to Victoria.
“Right. Thanks. Come on, I’ll help the rest of you.”
“What are these things?” Victoria asked, looking at the now dull crystal in the pole she’d snapped off as Amy tended to Mualani.
“Hegemony Type III Purification rods,” Charlotte said. She pointed to the shaft. “You see? Zee lines? Zey are ritual markings, oui? Copied from Little Lord Kusinali’s teachings, I am thinking. I was forced to be learning zhem before I was coming to zee Hegemony. But, I am learning zee Fontainian method, not zee Sumeruan. Zee principle, it is zee same, no?”
Barbara frowned at the empty hole where Victoria had torn the rod free.
“Maybe do not rip out too many of zem,” she said, nudging the snapped off stump with her boot toe. “If zey are keeping ze mist back, I would prefer zey keep doing zat. ‘Oo knows what will happen if we take too many of zhem?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry,” Victoria mumbled, but she didn’t feel too bad about it. Amy had been close to collapsing.
“Not for much longer, I am thinking,” Charlotte said, shaking her head. “You see zis?” she pointed to a nearby panel mounted on one of the poles, which had a blinking red light. “Zee warning. Zhis system, it is close to failing, oui? We must be quick. Or I am thinking I am taking less of zee photographies and more running for my life, eh?”
“Then we burn it down fast kine,” Mualani said, flames licking over her fists.
“Starting random fires, it is a bad plan,” Barbara said, shaking her head. “We need to set charges, or something. Charlotte, you are zee expert at zhis. ‘Ow do we destroy zee buildings?”
“Moi?! Why are you thinking I am the one who is knowing ‘ow to commit the arson?!” Charlotte gasped.
Victoria burst out in giggles, while Mualani sniggered and Amy sighed.
“Do you?” Amy prompted.
“Well, yes,” Charlotte admitted. “But, it is not for the reasons you are zinking! I am covering arson, yes? So I am studying the fires. For journalism!”
“Doesn’t matter how, what do we do?” Victoria said, folding her arms over her chest.
Charlotte sighed. “Zee buildings, they are hardened, yes? Designed for accidents. So…we are needing to get in. Zhis is good! Zhat way, we are not just arsonists, yes? We are also investigating. I am thinking, we want to know why the Hegemony is having a lab on zhis cursed island, yes?”
“Ajaw said it was to research the Abyss, but…they can’t be that dumb, right?” Amy asked nervously. “The Hegemony…I mean…I know we’re not perfect, but…the Protectorate…they’re the good guys.”
Charlotte and Barbara winced, while Mualani’s expression went cold.
“I think maybe you should have listened better in history class about what happened in Hawaiʻi in 1893 and 1898. But I guess you probably weren’t here for 4th grade, were you?” Mualani asked, her jaw working with anger.
“We were still in Brockton. Sixth grade…it’s world history,” Victoria admitted. “In 4th grade, we learned about King Philip’s War and stuff, so…um, we know bad stuff happened.”
She looked at the dark shadows growing from the lab buildings. “Just…not anymore, right?”
“I am hoping you are right, and zhis is my worst story ever,” Charlotte said quietly. She shook her head. “But I am thinking…zhey will try to kill me if I publish what we find.”
“Will that stop you?” Mualani demanded, her eyes smoldering coals. “Will you help them bury the truth of what happened to the ʻāina and kānaka again?”
Frost formed on the ground around Charlotte, and she lifted her camera. “Never. Zee Truth will be known. No matter the cost. Even my life. For the Truth, it is worth it.”“Heroes never lie,” Victoria agreed, making a fist. “No matter what we find. We tell the world the truth. And burn away all the shadows.”
“Yeah. For mom,” Amy agreed, her own expression stubborn. She turned to the door, and put her hand on the lock. “I won’t let this wound fester.”