《Life of Numbers》Chapter 77
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The monster had no name for itself, had no sapience that allowed it the privilege of ‘self.’
But despite that, the monster had a rudimentary intelligence to go along with its overwhelming power. Enough to understand that the ruins of the colony it stood in had no more prey creatures. And that the few prey creatures that had managed to escape its grasp had fled down the strange stone path, the same direction that the yellow light flew before each period of darkness.
The monster would follow.
- ?, Inclusion +32 days 08:24 hours
We wait together on the roof of the building next to the fifth street entrance on the east side of Bothell. Slowly, the light dims as the sun disappears beyond the horizon. The half-full moon provides enough light to see, but just barely. The soldiers around us have powerful flashlights attached to their belts, but a short conversation with one of the men positioned on the roof next to us reveals they plan to save them until they are actually needed rather than waste the batteries and lose their night-vision.
I wonder what exactly the sergeant might have told his men about us, or even about what they were doing gathered together at this one specific spot on the edge of town. There are at least twenty soldiers with guns positioned in various places around the road, and from my bond with Sam I know at least a few more are patrolling further outside of town, and none of them question the unexpected orders of their superior -- at least not within our earshot.
Styx and I met with Sam this morning, explaining the circumstances of the expected attack and our overall impressions of the sergeant in charge of Bothell. Following our advice, Sam decided to wait until after this attack before revealing itself to the sergeant. As much as it would be beneficial to have Sam fighting by our side, if Sam were to reveal itself now, I worry the sergeant may be suspicious with the timeline and try to kill Sam, thinking it might be part of Kelly’s omen. Much better to wait until whatever Kelly predicted is dealt with, and then to reveal Sam in the hopefully peaceful aftermath.
Currently, Sam hides in a house just over a block from where we wait. With all the soldiers wandering around on high alert, it would be too dangerous for it to come any closer, yet Sam insisted it wanted to be close enough to assist in the coming battle in case of an emergency.
Curiously, Sam was most interested in our description of Kelly and her skill, immediately demanding an audience with her as soon as possible, prioritized even over the meeting with the sergeant. Styx and I had to admit that we didn’t have any way to track her down again, but we assured Sam that we’d keep an eye out in the future.
Sam’s eagerness reassured me, somewhat, to the potential validity of Kelly’s skill. Precognition apparently is a skill of a level equal to Styx’s nullify skill when it comes to rarity and power, though of a completely different type of power than Styx’s. Either way, I’m looking forward to getting a few more answers from Kelly the next time we meet with her.
The four of us sit in a line along the roof, looking down at the road where the purported attack should occur. Melete, as usual, sings under her breath, a song from a famous animated movie about being prepared. While I agree with the general sentiment of the song, I find the specific lyrics...less than appropriate to our situation. But I guess it’s better than many of the alternatives. Ever since we met up with the twins, Melete’s repertoire of music has drawn much more heavily upon animated musicals, not all of them pleasant to hear sung on repeat under Melete’s breath.
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Despite Melete’s song, I can’t help but feel our preparation is lacking. Pallas carries his shotgun on a strap over his shoulder, and the rest of us carry enough weapons that an average citizen of Bothell might be intimidated, but compared to the soldiers around us and the massive guns they each hold, I feel practically unarmed. What can we possibly do in this battle that the soldiers won’t be able to do on their own?
I take a deep breath, extending my nails to points with my skill, the sharp tips pressing against the skin on my palm somehow reassuring. Maybe Kelly’s skill is on the fritz. Maybe it’s just Styx’s aura that’s needed, or Melete’s song. Maybe our presence here is enough, irrespective of our direct involvement. Either way, we’re here, and if we aren’t needed then no harm done. But if we are needed...I’ll be ready.
And just as I think this thought, through Sam’s bond I see a soldier running down the road towards Bothell. And less than a minute later I see the same soldier with my own eyes, dashing into the house where I know the sergeant is waiting. A minute later, a crackling voice echoes from the nearby soldier’s walkie-talkie, passing along a message.
Unfortunately, we aren’t included in the chain of communication and he’s too far away to overhear clearly, but I can surmise what they’re saying: the time to fight approaches.
We wait anxiously for another few minutes until the soldier stuck on the roof next to us finally takes pity and passes along what exactly is going on.
Apparently, it’s only a single monster that’s attacking, large and slow enough that, unless it can shapeshift, turn invisible, or has superspeed, we’ll have plenty of time to see it coming. Still fifteen minutes away at its current pace.
I try to relax, but instead feel a sense of foreboding wash over me. For some reason when Kelly described a ‘monster attack’ on the city that would kill almost everyone, I imagined a huge wave of monsters, maybe something like the locust swarm or a massive pack of dog monsters or some similar cooperative species. For all the deaths that Kelly predicted to be caused by just a single, slow monster…
Suddenly I find the possibility that Kelly’s skill is on the fritz to be much less likely.
I’d suggest leaving the gun, I say to Pallas through my bond. If the soldiers’ weapons don’t kill it, I don’t think your shotgun will do much.
Pallas nods in agreement, unslinging the shotgun from his soldier and hefting his axe instead. Melete has finally fallen silent, her gaze sweeping back and forth in the dark. Next to me, Styx reaches out and grabs my hand with her own, our fingers intertwined as we wait. I’m careful not to stab her with my recently sharpened nails.
I’m the first to catch a glimpse of the monster through my bond with Sam.
“It’s coming,” I whisper.
Thump.
Barely audible, the dull noise cuts through the quiet of the night.
Thump.
It’s still extremely quiet, and I can feel the vibrations more than I can actually hear the noise. But steadily, inexorably, the noises continue.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Finally, the monster is revealed.
It’s over fifteen feet tall, and stands upright on two legs, the closest in appearance to a human we’ve seen of any monster so far. Its limbs must be as thick as tree trunks, the three fingers on its hands each as large as my shoe. Its mouth is a lip-less slit that opens in a roar at the bottom of its chin, revealing lines of hundreds and hundreds of pointed teeth, uneven like a shark’s. And above its mouth rests its eye. Larger than a beach ball, the eye fills almost the entire head of the monster, and is narrowed in a glare of anger at the humans who dare oppose it.
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I don’t need Sam to tell us the name of this monster. Human mythology provides the obvious answer: a cyclops.
It roars.
Its roar is drowned out in a cacophony of gunfire as the soldiers around us open fire. I block out my ears at the sudden surge of bangs, while Melete and Styx clamp their hands over their own ears next to me.
The flashes of the firing guns are blinding after the last hour waiting in the dark, but I can still clearly see the monster.
It stands tall amidst the hail of bullets, flashes of bright blue light encircling it. I can see no reaction from the monster to the bullets other than to close its large eye. Waiting.
Eventually, the hail of gunfire slows, and the monster reopens its eye. Immediately, the pop of gunfire resumes at the appearance of a likely vulnerable target, but the monster doesn’t react to the bullets except to step forward and raise a single three-fingered hand, staccato blue flashes popping into and out of existence around it.
From the monster’s raised hand extends an arc of blue lightning to a group of soldiers crouched behind a car in the middle of the road. And then the monster twists its hand, curling it into a fist, and a blue sun temporarily flashes into existence. The guns are yanked out of the soldiers hands, the metal warping as they fly towards the monster, the car jerking in place. The soldiers, however, are blasted backwards by the blue lightning, flying through the air before landing five feet back. Thankfully, the lightning doesn’t seem to be fatal, the soldiers crawling back to their feet after just a few seconds.
What...is this?
Sam, any word on this creature’s abilities? I ask through my bond, something I should have done much sooner. Unfortunately, Sam has no way to reply directly from where it’s hiding, out of view and therefore unable to use it’s illusions to communicate with me directly. But I can see Sam’s perspective shift as it scuttles out of the window to get closer.
Good. I have a feeling we’re going to need all the help we can get.
The soldiers have resumed their barrage of gunfire. And while the flashes of light still encircle the monster, I notice that at least some of the bullets are affecting it, small dots of red appearing against its skin every few seconds. But just as quickly as they appear, the spots disappear, replaced by unmarred grey skin.
Most likely some sort of rapid healing, then.
The monster keeps reaching out to different groups of soldiers, flashes of blue bursting from its hand as each group is disarmed and blasted back. The only reprieve is when one of the bullets connects with the massive eye of the monster, at which point it closes its eye and ducks its head, huddling still under the fire for a good ten seconds. But when it finally stands upright again and reopens its eye, the only lasting effect is a slight veiny redness.
One brave disarmed soldier dashes forward up the road to retrieve his mostly-intact gun. But then the cyclops steps forward and swings a huge club with its other hand, unnoticed amid the lightshow. At the last moment, the soldier sees it coming and dives to the left, dodging the blow that cracks the asphalt by inches. But blue light arcs out from the club to connect with the man, and he collapses back to the ground immediately after coming out of his dive. Amid the rising gunfire of the soldier’s fellows, the cyclops raises its club and brings it down once again, and this time the man doesn’t dodge.
Just like that, the soldier’s life ends.
The cyclops swings its club once more onto the crushed soldier, and then a few more times onto the guns littering the ground around it. And then it raises its other hand, re-summoning the blue lightning to disarm more soldiers.
“Magneto powers,” Melete says, and I glance at her to my left on the roof. “It can control metal with that blue light. That’s why so few of the bullets are hurting it.”
Her words break me from my stupor, and I refocus on the massive beast. We need to get down there and help before the last of the soldiers are disarmed and it breaks into the town center.
But what can we do? We’re armed with little more than knives, just as metal as the weapons of the disarmed soldiers. And even if we’re able to hold onto our weapons, how are we supposed to hurt it? It’s massive, can heal from bullet wounds, and getting close seems next to impossible with the blue lightning constantly surrounding it.
But we have to do something. The soldiers have gotten smarter in their approach, spreading out so that the blasts of blue lightning can’t disarm and knock back more than one at a time, the soldiers that have already lost their rifles doing their best with smaller sidearms. But at this point they’re only delaying the inevitable
“Y'all need to get out of here,” the soldier laying prone nearby on the rooftop yells back to us, his eyes still fixed on the cyclops as his hands move with precision, reloading his weapon.
His words break me from my trance, spurring me to action -- just not the action he was looking for.
We can’t approach it while the soldiers are firing, I send through my bonds. Pallas, lead the way while incorporeal, hopefully that’ll make them back down. I’ll try and bond with the sergeant.
I extend a bond to the building I know the sergeant is within while focusing on the man, hoping that he’ll receive and accept the foreign sensation. It was beyond stupid for us to even be here without first coordinating with the sergeant how we might be able to safely engage with all the soldiers firing around us. Maybe the sergeant believed our skills to be ranged attacks, not needing to be in the line of fire to engage. Maybe he believed, like me, that it would be waves of hundreds or thousands of monsters, and it would just be Melete’s skill that would be needed. Or maybe he just didn’t believe we would be necessary at all, his concentrated soldiers and guns enough to eliminate any threat.
Any way it happened, hindsight doesn’t help with our current situation, and I suppress a grimace as my bond fails, rejected at the other end.
But in the end, the bond isn’t required.
The monster has continued its work of disarming the soldiers, a bolt of lightning blasting at our own rooftop to rid the nearby soldier of his weapon. Only a handful of handguns keep up the barrage, and then only sporadically, the soldiers wielding them ducking out of sight after each shot in a vain hope to prevent the monster from devesting the defenders of their few remaining weapons.
But in the meantime, Pallas acts. He jumps off of the building, turning incorporeal a split second before hitting the ground and landing stiff-legged, standing tall.
Huh. I guess Styx and I aren’t the only ones who have been practicing our skills.
Without preamble Pallas strides past the makeshift barrier in the road toward the monster, axe held loosely by his side. A voice squawks from the walkie-talkie of the nearby soldier, and in just a few moments the remaining gunfire fades to nothing. In the sudden silence that follows, I dismiss the modifications over my ears.
Now that the gunfire has stopped, Pallas drops his skill, coming back to full solidity as he pauses his slow walk toward the cyclops, standing tall in the middle of the road, ten yards separating him from the monster.
In the silence of the aborted gunfire, the cyclops stops its own attempts to disarm the soldiers with blasts of lightning, large eye focusing on the young man who boldly stands before it.
For a small eternity, the standoff continues. The dark and silence of night, interrupted by the continuous flashes and crackling of blue lightning that orbits the monster’s giant frame. Pallas waits still and tall before the intruder, saying nothing.
And then the monster lifts its arm towards Pallas, blue lightning crossing the distance in less time than it takes to blink.
But Pallas is already moving, his once-again incorporeal frame blurring as the lightning passes through him to no effect.
He sprints toward the monster, closing the gap in barely a second.
He raises his axe in a massive backswing, and swings it forward towards the monster’s leg, returning to physical form at the last possible moment.
And a surge of lightning appears where Pallas swings, blasting the axe back out of Pallas’ hands to fly through the air and collide with the wall of our building below us. Pallas is blasted back as well, but not nearly as far, collapsing to the ground only a few feet from where he attempted his strike.
In the moment after his strike the lightning around the monster dims, and opportunistic shots from the few soldiers still with weapons manage to connect with the cyclops, red dots appearing across its skin. Simultaneously, Melete sings out next to me, her voice only barely audible above the bangs of the guns, but I still wince and re-block my ears. The cyclops has a much larger reaction to Melete’s song than to the guns, immediately turning and firing a burst of lightning at her.
Melete yelps as she’s knocked back onto her rear, her knives pulled from her hands and her song cut off.
After a few seconds the blue lightning is back orbiting the creature and blocking the remaining bullets, the small wounds visibly healing back to unblemished grey skin. But combined, the bullets and Melete’s voice create the needed distraction.
By the time the cyclops manages to focus on Pallas and bring its club down, he’s back incorporeal and pulling himself to his feet, the club passing through his body to no effect. Slowly he backs away from the cyclops, bare hands clenched into fists.
“Atlas,” I hear Sam’s twangy voice echo as if right beside me. “It’s skin is resistant to piercing, and it heals extremely rapidly from most non-fatal wounds. Its main weakness is its eye, which it typically will carefully protect.”
Finally, Sam is close enough to use its illusions on me. And the lightning? I ask.
“Unknown,” Sam replies. “I have never seen nor heard of it before. It is likely a skill.”
I nod, thinking to myself. Down below, Pallas has fully backed away and manages to retrieve his slightly-warped axe, while the cyclops has returned to disarming the few remaining soldiers with any sort of firearm. If this continues, within a few minutes there won’t be any guns left for it to destroy.
Do your illusions work? I ask Sam.
“Unfortunately, not well. The creature’s healing prevents any illusion I create from persisting for longer than a second or two.”
What can we do, then? Guns do practically nothing against it with its lightning protecting it, and the axe and other metal weapons are even less effective. Fashion wooden spears? Even if we had the time, what would they do, if even bullets aren’t enough to leave lasting wounds?
Melete’s skill might work, but how can she sing for any length of time with the monster able to target her from range with its lightning? And if it decides to charge Melete, what can we do to stop it?
The lightning skill is it’s greatest strength. Without it, I’m sure just a few soldiers would be able to take the monster out. But with it, our ranged attacks are useless and any melee approach impossible.
“Ugh, that’s so stupid,” I hear Melete yell at the monster. “If you’re gonna choose to follow a theme, you gotta pick one and stick to it. You can’t be both cyclops and magneto!”
Predictably, the monster ignores her, and no one else reacts to her inaudible yelling. But I smile.
I turn and meet Styx’s eyes. And in those brown orbs I see understanding.
Through my four bonds with my companions, I hastily explain the plan.
S: 182 (+19)
D: 204 (+18)
W: 403 (+1)
I: 401 (+1)
C: 102 (+1)
0
Skills: Adjust:Self, Bond:Mental
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