Panting filled the room as two weaponless men circled each other, lightly dancing in and out of each other’s proximity. It was a savage and intelligent tango, one half ferocity partnered with one half pinpoint accuracy.

Peter eyed the smaller man in front of him like he was trying to guard against a massive, pissed-off pitbull, which was very disorienting because the opposing man was utterly calm, devoid of any signs that would indicate his current state. Was he tired? Was he feeling any sort of strain whether mental or physical? Peter himself was already feeling some fatigue from this duel which had raged for 6 hours already.

He felt the tension of his muscles and the left over power still housed within ready for his call, begging to be commanded into action - a stark contrast against the innumerable blows he’d taken, each and every one merciless in its delivery and intent. His ingrained biological instincts screamed at him to attack due to his size and positional advantage, but his mind threw on the breaks every time, cautioning him into patience, tempering him into making moves that countered his opponent’s. Experience was continually honing him, sharpening him against the impenetrable grindstone that was Adrian Pierce.

He knew he actually was weaker than Bearcat. He knew that he wasn’t as tactical or intelligent with his movement. In fact, he had pretty much assumed that his friend had intentionally let this fight continue for these hours just to get give him experience. The feeling and realization that he was being toyed with made his stomach churn in primal anger.

A weird sense of hatred began to burn in resentment, coiling into a knot that twisted in him like a cruel dagger. Whispers that undermined his friend echoed in his consciousness, reverberating with derision and spite. Who is he to lord over me?

Noticing the uncharacteristic feeling, he pushed it back down, actively quelling the mental storm that was brewing until he clashed against Bearcat again which ripped away his main focus. Deflecting away a punch that aimed at his knee joint, Peter stepped in and closed the distance as he rained down a destructive punch onto Bearcat’s head, like a hammer striking the anvil. Power surged through his arm, adding to its acceleration, spurred on by a growing excitement. This is my chance!

The inner voice sounded from far off, cackling with glee at the thought of finally inflicting damage upon this arrogant person. Serves you right, it seemed to say. For the first time during this fight, Peter felt compelled to agree. He’d been humiliated and looked down upon throughout this entire sparring.

Much worse, Bearcat didn’t pay him any concern - even now.

Gracefully fading backwards, the smaller man seemingly floated out from under that strike just as it was about land, a few hairs that had come unbound from his ponytail were disturbed by the errant wind the fist generated as it flew by. He quickly regained his normal stance once he was out of arm’s reach. Peter, on the other hand, had over-committed to the downward force and it threw him just ever so slightly off balance as he tried to restrain the momentum. Bearcat appeared next to him again like a ghost and struck out faster than he’d done in any of their previous thousands of exchanges, sending a thunderous punch.

Peter felt felt an agonizing pain erupt from his shoulder and then his ribs and temple. A disabling strike followed by a core and cranium shot. Bearcat was ruthless in his power too, pushing just enough force into the blows to dislocate his shoulder, knock the breath out of him, and then rattle his mind. An impressive feat considering the newfound resilience that Peter had gained through the upgrade.

A momentary flash of black took out his vision and when he woke up again, he was on his back. Furiously blinking his eyes, the pain added to the swelling anger he felt at himself for allowing that inner voice to distract him from the fight. It was foolish to get distracted in hand to hand with Bearcat of all people. Still though...he cut his eyes up at his friend who was radiating heat in a rare showing of uncontrolled exertion.

Standing there like a Victor. I should have been the one who won!

Peter’s eyes drank in the light red torrent that billowed before him, glaring fiercely at the man who’d put him on the ground. He knew deep down that Adrian wasn’t trying to stand above him. He knew that he wasn’t being vicious out of arrogance, but every time he looked at him, he felt this overwhelming sense of inferiority. He hated it, loathed it. He couldn’t stand it! The fact grated him, tore at his mind and poisoned his soul.

Rage boiled in his heart while the mind warred for control, desperately seeking to contain the imbalance it felt within.

***

Adrian looked back down on Peter and watched the emotion that flashed in his friend’s eyes. Taking out an earpiece he’d stashed in his gym shorts’ pocket, he put it on and connected a private line to Raide. Within a 1/10th of a second, Raide was keyed in, observing the changes right along with Adrian.

The A.I. quietly said, “It looks like his anger issues were not corrected when his mind was boosted.”

Adrian only nodded, cautiously staring down at Peter as the man warred with himself. Thinking for a moment, he squatted down and patted him on the shoulder.

“Pete, I hope you understand that you’re a monster compared to the others.” His friend looked up sharply at him, a beastial expression that spelled savagery flaring up.

“What I mean is that you’re the only one among the group that could stand up to me to such a point,” he said lowly. “It’s only the third day of adjustment after your upgrade and you’re already able to keep up with me so well. Hell man, you just sparred with me for 6 hours and never once gave me an opening like you just did.” That was nothing to say of the fact that Adrian could have disassembled him at any time, but that wasn’t a point that Peter would want to hear at the moment.

The ferocious glint in his friend’s eyes retreated and a long shaking breath burst its way from his lips. Peter nodded slowly in acknowledgment of the praise.

“Control yourself better from now on, okay? I had to end that fight because you let your primal instincts rule over you at the end there. We aren’t one single emotion, so don’t let anything like anger take over. We are beyond that. We are one step further away from our beastial natures, so you don’t have to rely on those base instincts to survive in a fight anymore. Let it go,” Adrian said the last sentence firmly and then wrenched on Peter’s arm, setting it back into the socket where it belonged. His friend grunted at the momentary pain.

Peter let out one last large, shaky breath and looked back up at him resolutely before he sat up and nodded his head contemplatively. Adrian shook his head and turned, missing the hatred-filled glance that flared ever so briefly on his face. Luckily, Raide is always watching.

A quiet voice sounded out in Adrian’s ear again, saying, “He did not take that well. Be careful.”

Adrian didn’t respond, knowing that any signal from him would be seen by Peter who was watching his back like a hawk. Upgrades were double-edged swords. He sighed in his heart and then said to the air without turning during his steps, “You’re done with training for now. Prepare yourself to ship out to basic. Raide will brief you on things to remember and ways to advance up the ranks quickly.”

Get yourself together, Pete. He paused at the door to look back at his friend he’d known for the past 7 years and then walked out while sadly thinking, I don’t want to have to put you down.

***

Saad eyed the compound in the distance, taking in the magnificent sight of the newly completed structures that were artful amalgamations of stone, brick, and steel. The largest, domed structure out of the few rose to the sky, imposing and mighty in its size, only overshadowed by the tower that beat it out in height in the background. He tried to recall if he’d ever seen anything like it, but failed to draw up even a single example, despite his familiarity with multiple cultures in the world.

There was a beautiful gate and fence that encircled the area, built with stone and steel, too high to climb. It would be far too perilous in any case, because the top of the fence was decorated with menacing black steel spikes that jutted upwards towards the heavens. It wasn’t impossible to traverse, but they lacked the equipment and even more so the time required to do it cleanly. They’d have to settle with small charges for the gate.

Glancing towards the others in the van, he heard the rustling and nervous breathing of the other four comrades that were in the rear of the vehicle. Their faces spoke volumes about their experience. They were too young, too inexperienced in doing something like this on American soil. After all, Saad ended up tapping a majority of them from locales he was familiar with. Lot’s of them weren’t even arabic.

Profiling done by the Americans always made him laugh in this manner. Who says the attackers will always be one nationality? Plus, there was just something poetic about using Americans to conduct business on other Americans. Who cares if they’re young? Who cares if they’re inexperienced? They were only here to fill in numbers and provide their presence to add to the intimidation. There were only eight civilians inside after all. What could they possibly do? They’d already confirmed that the girl hadn’t left since she’d arrived almost a week ago, which was strange, but he wasn’t here to understand the girl. His sole goal was to bring her back to the Sheikh.

He had another four vans of five men each that were also placed nearby in inconspicuous places, not counting the drivers that were to wait for their exit. He’d originally wanted to do it with only five to six, a small team was easier to extract, but he kept getting this horrific feeling of trepidation. Saad didn’t know where it was coming from, this fear that he’d never experienced before. The feeling made his heart do flips in anticipation for the unknowable future.

Looking out past the gates and towards the compound, he sighed. Allah give me strength.

Giving the order into a mike, the rustle of clothes and the click of semi-automatic weapons being readied reverberated out into the vehicle. Moments later, Saad was the first of a series of shadows that approached the arched gateway that lead them towards their goal.

***

Hot water splashed into the coned funnel, rinsing over a medium-coarse blend of Kenyan coffee. Rivulets formed over the particles and Adrian became entranced as he watched the flow of the water as it filtered down through the paper cone. Small tendrils of steam continually wafted up into his nose, adding its delicious aroma to the ambiance of his private room.

Oddly enough, personally brewing his coffee had become a habit of his as he was working so hard on automating just about everything else in his life. He sighed at the last of the water settling into the bottom of the Chemex. There was still something so satisfying about doing things with his hands. He’d even ground the coffee himself a little while ago. It brought a sense of calm to his mind and promoted a rhythmic stability that lulled him into a state of happiness every single time.

Normally, he’d be doing this when he woke up, but once he got upgraded he no longer really had any need to sleep. This was especially the case when he separated out his consciousness into being able to operate on different levels at the same time. If he was overtaxed to the point of needing rest mentally, he’d just allocate one of his trains of thought to sleep mode and it would perform the effect of a sleeping brain.

Grabbing the coffee container, he smoothly poured the rich brown liquid into a mug that he then took to sip on as he looked out of the window. There, he saw the compound with the best view possible and let his thoughts fall into the mundane, quietly contemplating things he had to do and the state of everyone that had theirs hopes now aligned with his.

Such a quiet night. Everyone else must be relaxing in their apartments.

The other seven had acclimated well in these past three days, quickly taking to their new living arrangements. They’d had a little bit of trouble with Inori’s parents, but the matter was finally resolved after a solid forty-five minute long conversation about how safe she’d be there. Parents could be so troublesome.

Adrian sighed contentedly. It was a friday night, one that the previous version of himself, the first year Adrian, would have abused until the wee hours of the morning while immersed in friends and alcohol. But now, he was more than happy to stay in and just be. It wasn’t good to rush all of the time. Even as a member of the liberatur species, in the end they were all still organic beings, not computers or pieces of machinery that ran until they broke down from wear and tear.

It always helped him to maintain balance by keeping this in perspective.

Raide’s voice broke the warm silence that Adrian was standing in, his tone bringing with it a sense of urgency. “We have some guests that look militant.”

Adrian’s eyebrows arched slightly, but remained calm, refusing to release his hold on the balance he’d just struck. “Oh? How many? Any ideas on who it could be?”

“I’ve run their facial scans and body builds through all of the databases and surveillance footage I could find. There are 20 in total - twelve American Muslims that leaned militant and eight “tourists” that managed to come in cleanly on their passports. Judging by the FBI and Interpol, they’ve not yet made the list with those that have ties to any Jihadist groups….” His voice cut out for a second and then came back. “They’ve just breached the gate. My conjecture? They’re here for Inori. Wait... yes, communication records confirm.”

Adrian scowled and sent a bit of heat to his palm to maintain the temperature of his coffee. Turning, he paced out of the room with his cup still in hand towards the training area where he could see the entrance. A few seconds passed and he arrived at the southerly window, looking out and down past the church at the shadowy figures moving up the dimly lit drive and slowly towards the main doors.

He instantly made a decision. “Good enough reason as any. Bring up the cams.”

Raide complied and a swath of video feeds displayed on the window in his periphery.

“How would you like to proceed?” asked the A.I.

Adrian’s eyes flitted over the moving pictures and lazily calculated the time he’d need to deploy anyone to handle this rabble. It was too short and they were moving too quickly. Better to just inform them about it later and deal with it himself. Or maybe...he blinked.

“Look’s like you have an opportunity to work on your aim,” Adrian chuckled. “Show them the terror of walking into Archon Industries uninvited.” He remembered something and added, “Quietly, if you please. We have a good distance between us and the neighbors, but we wouldn’t want to wake them, now would we?”

Raide appeared and gave a mock salute. He smiled back devilishly, saying as he disappeared, “Don’t worry on that count. It’ll be as silent as a graveyard soon enough.”

***

Returning to a speed of thought that blew away even Adrian, the A.I. willed it and he appeared within a very particular part of the Archon Industries’ facility subsets. Here, he housed all of the nice little code bits and programs that he created for Big Bertha and her children. He ran a digital finger over their virtual housing and input the command to wake up, watching them run the scripts that initiated all of the robotics involved with their unique...placement.

Raide laughed delightedly to himself. This was going to be so much fun.

He breathed in the data from all of the sensors he’d placed on the grounds - vision, audio, lidar, barometric, humidity, and wind speed - and compiled it into usable information that he seamlessly integrated into himself. For all intents and purposes, he was Archon Industries right now.

Taking another deep breath, he raised his arms slowly, almost as if he was lifting something fragile and delicate, feeling the feedback from the effect he was creating out on the grounds. It was agonizingly slow compared to how long he had to wait on his time.

Out near the intruders, strategically placed structures slowly and silently revealed hidden locations. Shrubs parted and concrete raised up, inching under the cover of darkness. Judging by the intruders position, they were just coming towards the main doors of the church, spread out in a fan. Several of them were positioned around the fountain that acted as the center of a circular drive about 15 meters from the doors.

Raide momentarily bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t use Big Bertha herself. He knew though that if he used her on some small fry like this, blowing up the brand new lawn and the driveway in the process, Adrian would have his metaphorical head. He’d once threatened to fry him after all, a matter he still wasn’t sure whether he meant or not. Bertha though, she was more of the heavy hitter they needed to keep in reserve for helicopters or incoming cruise missiles - whichever of the two were more pressing at the moment.

If he used it on humans, they’d burst like a watermelon all over their driveway. Clean-up would no doubt be a huge hassle. Plus, Adrian would really kill him if anything happened to the statue in the fountain. Tch.

“I guess her children will just have to do,” he said matter-of-factly to his digital space.

Directing twenty pieces of his consciousness to the flanking placements, he gave the command and twenty long, automatically fed railguns slid out of their enclosures, assembling and charging up power to their capacitors.

The beautiful thing about magnetically catapulted projectiles is that there’s a distinct lack of the telltale explosion of gunpowder or charge. The only sound they would make is a delayed ‘clap’ as air is pushed out of the specially designed bullet’s way as it rockets out at a speed three times that of a bullet, producing a miniaturized sonic boom.The sound would be so different though, that even if their neighbors heard it, they wouldn’t be able to identify it as a weapon.

And these slugs were a nasty piece of work too. They incorporated the design of a hollow point, a bullet that “fanned out” when it struck resistance, increasing the area that was affected. Raide and Adrian had a time getting them to work because of the projectiles’ altered structure affecting the balance of the opposing magnetic fields.

Raide eyed the men who were barely moving in front of his perception and waited for the capacitors to finish charging. The amount of current needed to power twenty railguns on the fly wasn’t an easy thing to procure, even given his complete control over the compound’s power supply. Another thing to be addressed for the future, he noted.

Adrian’s voice cut into his space, interrupting his thoughts. “Leave the leader and one other alive. We need to ask some questions.”

Raide pursed his lips in displeasure. “Fine, fine…”

The energy finished cycling to the units and he robotically leveled the turrets at each member that was before him, calculating a million different reactionary scenarios while he aimed at vitals and extrema. All the ballistic data flooded his mind and he smiled, lifting a finger gun to dramatically point toward them.

“Bang.”

***

Saad’s eyes darted back and forth from his men to the doors they were nearing. A few lights flanking the entrance seemed glaring compared to the darkness they were wading through.The soft crunch of the grass underneath his boots highlighted the difference of the others who were creeping across the concrete. Interspersed rays of moonlight cut through the few oak trees that lined the drive, their roots protesting against his boot every once in awhile when he trod over them.

On top of that, the movement in their clothes felt painfully loud, like it was screaming their existence to the entire entrance area. He knew from experience that this was just his heightened senses talking, but he still winced when he made too large of a movement.

Slowing down, he checked to his left towards the center mass of his fighters, noting the expressions of nervousness and adrenaline showing in their eyes. Many had cloths or masks that covered their faces, wrapped tightly around their head so that it didn’t slip during combat. Saad himself wore one as well, just in case.

Finally reaching the circular drive that wrapped around a large decorative fountain, Saad saw its centerpiece in all it’s majesty.

A gigantic, twenty foot tall statue of an winged warrior, garbed in plate armor, kneeled on a circular platform like he was resting after a slaughter. The horned helmet cast a shadow over the eyes, adding an air of mystery to the identity of the combatant. A full and partially braided beard flowed out from underneath his helmet making Saad’s heart waver from the savagery he seemed to exude. The two-handed ornate greatsword beneath his two palms which were resting on the pommel was embedded into stone halfway up the blade, and his wings still stretched high in glorious might as if he’d just made landfall after his descent from heaven.

The water contained in the fountain flowed from the tips of the wings, all the way down their entirety. That was it. There were no jets, or cleverly placed streams of water shooting from the angel to cascade down to the pool below in pretty arcs. Only the wings bore the appearance of appearing wet. Even then, it did not detract from the fixture’s aura, because that was not the only effect the water played.

The true quality and finishing touch that made the statue feel almost alive, besides the stunningly lifelike detail engraved into its features, was that the wings seemed to be emitting heat. As a result, a portion of the water was turning into steam on their surface, rising back up towards the sky and giving the appearance that the wings were still smoking after reentry. The splash of the lights purposefully placed behind it was just strong enough to wreath the entirety of the statue in a halo of light, the steam from the wings transforming into indistinct flecks of molten gold that floated in the warm radiance.

Saad openly gaped at the splendor and all of the other men soon crowded around, staring wide-eyed at the monstrosity. Their weapons were slowly lowered and one by one they all no longer dared to move a muscle. Power and glory seemed to flow over them all and even Saad lost himself in the feeling. For a deeply religious man like him, the appearance of this statue begged the conclusion that it was created by a man divinely inspired. Perhaps it was because of his beliefs, but he felt an indescribable sense of yearning and kinship towards this heavenly warrior.

Warmth spread through his heart and a tear gathered at the corner of his eye, his mind overwhelmed and completely forgetting his original purpose. I must show the Sheikh. Only a few seconds passed like this, but just as he was rousing himself and turning to his men to usher them to continue with their task, a warm spray hit him on his left cheek followed by a muffled boom.

A hand floated to his face as he thought, I’m not close enough to get wet from the fountain...But when he pulled it away, the liquid streaked on his hand was a blackish crimson beneath the ambient light. Comprehension flooded his eyes and he turned his head to see the young teenager to his left sway and fall forward, now with a gaping hole where one of his eyes should have been.

Terror flood Saad’s mind and time seemed to slow down as he watched various trails of blood erupt from each of his comrades, painting bloody streaks through the warm Georgia night air, bullets punching through in perfect precision.

Saad’s eyes widened and then closed as the realization struck him. He wasn’t going to live through this. It was a perfect ambush. A slight, perverse thought of admiration crept up on the edges of his mind as he chided and then resigned himself, not even bothering to wonder who had gotten the drop on them. From the interspersed booms that were echoing around them, they were completely flanked. How, he had no clue.

A moment later, an excruciating pressure erupted in his shoulder and then his leg, the force of each making him spin. On the way down, a third bullet struck his dominant that was gripping his rifle, ripping a bloody angle through four of his fingers including his thumb, making him drop his weapon. Dull, meaty thuds sounded out as each man fell and hit the pavement, accompanied by the clatter of weaponry while bits of flesh and blood morbidly decorated the once pristine drive. Pain wracked Saad, his mind clouding over from the nerves screaming at him about the pain in an effort to alert him to the danger!

Run or fight, it was too late for either.

Soon after, Saad’s body hit the ground too, the pain swallowing his conscience and throwing him into darkness.

In the humid night air, silence suddenly reigned once again, returning so quickly that it was like it had never been interrupted in the first place. No groans were emitted from the throats of corpses, no pleas for mercy, nor lamentations laid against Fate.

All was quiet before the warrior who continued to guard the doors of Archon Industries.

Blood streaked the foreground, pulled by gravity into rivulets that flowed towards the nearby grassy boundary, yet not a single drop marred its stony visage or polluted its hallowed waters. His shadowy gaze stared unwavering at the carnage, unfeeling and bereft of any care over the feebleness and conflicts of men.

Spoiler :

From the corner of the yard, a digitally reproduced, growling voice resounded out in mock hatred, "Get off my lawn."

Song used to write that last scene, just in case you're curious - Watch the Skies. Any thoughts on anything related to the chapter or story? I love reading your comments and reviews!