෴Raz෴

෴Fidel෴

෴Mercator෴

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Semper Fidelis

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

The axe struck the back of Mercator’s leg with a hard, meaty thunk followed by a surprised roar of pain from the giant. Mercator threw Raz down and spun toward Fidel, dragging the burly Russian a few feet before his axe came loose from the deep cut.

Raz curled his head away from the fast-approaching floor. It wasn’t enough to avoid a stunning hit that felt like it rattled his skull. He immediately used a combat reflex to roll to his feet. He took a single step before collapsing. Raz’s last awareness was hearing his weapon hit the stone floor and feeling his body go limp. An unknown time later, Bee’s shrill alerts caused him to open his eyes. He couldn’t seem to make his eyes focus right. The light in the room now seemed to flicker and dance about. His eyes started to drift closed. Bee’s message pulsed and writhed in his inner vision.

[If you fall asleep you’ll die!]

Raz dragged his eyes back open and struggled to keep them open. The next few moments of time appeared to him as poorly stitched together images and blurred motion overlaid by a nauseated ringing in his ears.

Fidel, gliding about the room like a ballet dancer spinning his war axe with easy precision.

Gotta get up an—Blink—

Mercator, bleeding from a dozen small wounds, throwing a disk of corrupted nothingness that narrowly missed Fidel.

Bee! I need to heal mys—Blink—

[Active Recovery engaged]

Fidel’s axe, now wreathed in crimson flame, biting deep into Mercator’s grasping hand.

Need Somatic Res—Blink—

Fidel gracefully slashing across Mercator’s thigh then being kicked to the far wall with bone-crushing force.

I need to help him—Blink—

Mercator reeling from a blast of red flame across his face as Fidel sprinted toward his axe laying on the floor near Raz’s weapon.

Get up! I have to get up!—Blin—No! He gritted his teeth and forced his eyes to stay open.

Raz made himself roll over and crawl toward his weapon. The ringing in his ears started to fade, letting him hear the ominous sound of Fidel’s wet, panting cough. Raz reached for the weapon, only to have it suddenly shoot away from him as though kicked. The weapon skittered off into the darkness of the tunnel leading out, kicking up tiny sparks as it clattered against the stone floor. Raz had the oddest impression the weapon seemed to be trying to tell him to follow it.

The thick, sucking, wet sounds of Fidel’s labored breathing caught his ear. Raz turned from the weapon and began the grueling struggle to his feet.

Mercator laughed, a low-pitched mirthful sound that mocked Fidel. “If this is truly all the fight humans can offer, it will be a short invasion indeed!”

Fidel held one hand tight against his side and coughed up a wad of bloody froth. “Ooh—” His battle cry trailed off into a hacking cough as he elegantly stepped to the side, leaning out of the path of another giant punch. “Rah, kozyol!” He finished, as he threw a burst of flame at Mercator and gracefully flowed forward in the wake of the flames with a one-handed slash across the giant’s massive thigh.

Across realities and many thousands of miles, nearly a million people were suddenly filled with a dreadful certainty that their champion was desperately in need of help. Their help.

Raz finally managed to stand up, and took in the scene. Fidel, bloody froth dripping from his beard, trudging around the room on heavy feet, avoiding the giant’s long reach. Fidel’s axe hung loosely from one hand as the other clamped tight against a deep chest wound. Mercator, stalking his prey, smiling and laughing with joy at the sport of it.

Fidel looked Raz in the eye, and pointed to the tunnel leading out with his axe. “Go!” he managed to say between coughs.

A world away, many of those who felt the call ignored the feeling, but more of them welcomed a chance to help and opened their hearts willingly. A surge of power flowed from hundreds of thousands of the faithful, coalescing around their champion.

Mercator smiled, baring his mouthful of fangs. “You fools don't know when to quit. Don't you see that you're beaten?” A shimmering disk of appalling nothingness appeared next to his hand.

I'm still alive. So I'm not beaten, and neither is Fidel.

Raz immediately began pulling in the trickle of White Fire he could feel through Mercator’s portal. Need all the power I can get. I think my weapon just bailed on me.

In answer to his thought, he got the distinct impression that his weapon, or tool, or whatever it was, hadn’t abandoned him at all. Rather, that it was on a mission all its own. He felt, rather than saw, the weapon roll uphill, faster and faster, then abruptly come to a stop, laying directly across the threshold separating Mercator’s pocket dimension from the rest of reality. He somehow knew the claws on both sides had opened wide, as though ready to grip and tear.

Raz fell deep into slow time and began to pull at the energy around him and the primordial White Fire from every direction. The side of his HUD flickered as messages about Quantum Blade and the Reality threshold it was attacking stacked up. The reality around them shuddered and creaked, the stone walls fracturing under the force of reality itself losing cohesion.

The giant suddenly looked worried, scared even. He gaped at the crumbling stone around him with wide eyes.

“Mercator!” Raz shouted, hoping the giant couldn’t hear how weak and disoriented he felt. He stood and raised a fist at the giant. “You and I aren’t done yet!”

WhatamIdoingWhatamIdoing?! Need to run away. No! Fidel’s on his last legs. Gotta help him!

Fidel shook his head, urging Raz to go, even as Mercator turned a gleeful smile toward his first opponent.

“Oh. Does the little false wielder still want to play? Good.” Mercator half turned, trying to face two opponents at once.

“Let him go! Let us both go, or I take this whole place down with us inside!” Raz shouted with assurance he didn’t feel.

If he starts fixing the Reality threshold, draw on White Fire more. I don’t want to pop this balloon just yet, but if we’re going down, so is he, and I want the option close at hand.

Mercator hurled the disc at Fidel. Raz sent everything he had at it. A weak sparking thread of energy skimmed along the floor. Intercepting and somehow shorting out the corrupted portal weapon before it could connect.

Mercator looked at Raz appraisingly. “So that attack really was from you?” Then he relaxed and laughed. “I must admit. At first, I thought you were a wielder of the Fiery Blade of the Heavens. I was exhilarated, and if I am honest, I felt a touch of fear. Too bad. Whatever you have, it does not compare with the stories at all.” The giant shrugged. “No matter, you won’t destroy my home. You’re inside it as well. We would all die.”

Yeah, that’s pretty much what I’m banking on.

“You think I won't? You’re even dumber than I thought.” Raz said, as he deliberately tried to draw in White Fire, activating Quantum Blade.

[Warning, the Reality threshold feels very thin. It will not take much to rupture it now.]

Mercator seemed shaken by this, but then shook his head. “No. I know better. You won’t sacrifice your own life just to end mine.”

Raz breathed a little easier, feeling a second wind from somewhere infusing him with strength and power. “That just proves you don’t understand humans at all.”

[He’s repairing the threshold!]

“Stop!” Raz reached for White Fire again, causing the walls to wobble and shake. “Touch it again and we all die!”

Mercator’s expression cycled through surprise, fear, then back to disdain. “No, you won’t do it.”

[New White Fire source detected!]

Raz reached out and felt it. The source was a ways off, and smaller than he’d like, nowhere near the gateway to infinite raw power he was used to, but it was far more than the thin trickle he could indirectly pull through Mercator’s portals.

Mercator turned his attention back to Fidel, summoning another disc as he did.

“Don’t you turn your back on me!” Raz roared with a grim smile. Let’s do this. He drew on this new source of White Fire. Crackling energy gathered around both his fists. Keeping his focus on the Ionized Path chevron targeting Mercator’s head, Raz touched his thumbs and forefingers together and thrust his hands forward, sending a bright, questing lash of lightning across the room, striking the giant across his back. The ribbon of energy cut a deep cauterized vertical gash across the giant’s flesh.

Mercator stumbled and fell to one knee, a grunt of pain torn from his mouth. Fidel took the opportunity to stumble forward, then leap into the air, driving his axe down at Mercator’s forehead. The giant desperately twisted his head to the side in an attempt to evade what might have been a lethal hit. Mercator caught the axe on one of his horns. Fidel’s powerful blow cleaved through the horn, the edge of his war axe carving a furrow across the giant’s skull as it sliced off a shallow flap of flesh from Mercator’s head.

Mercator howled in pain as he seized Fidel around the torso, trapping one of his arms under the giant’s clenching fist. Mercator snarled at the broken man and squeezed.

Fidel’s hurt bad. I need to help him now!

A sharp bark of torment and a spray of bloody frost escaped Fidel’s crimson lips as the giant crushed him. The Russian cried out in agonized defiance and slammed his axe at the hand that was crushing him. The blade cut deep.

Mercator snatched at the axe, grasping it, then tearing it from Fidel’s one handed grip. With a savage cry of triumph, Mercator slammed the axe to the stone floor. The war axe let out a ringing sound of tortured metal as the blade struck the stone and snapped off the shattered shaft.

As Fidel saw his weapon broken into fragments about the room, some of the fight seemed to go out of him.

Raz pulled in White Fire through his new source as fast as he could. Mercator turned and flung Fidel straight at him. Instinctively knowing that being struck by the highly durable thrown man would be fatal to him, Raz sidestepped the throw but extended his hand to cradle his friend’s neck, hoping to save his spine. Dodging the main impact from the Russian ragdoll looked easy enough, but one of Fidel’s flailing arms hit Raz like a moving car. The limp arm hit him hard enough to activate his armor. The instant of completely rigid armor holding him in place seemed to go on forever as Mercator advanced on them both with his hands up in a guard position, now showing more caution than he had so far.

Raz pulled at White Fire, driving another anemic bolt at Mercator’s face. The giant took the blast of heat and light on one forearm, but kept advancing despite the new burn carved across his arm.

Still deep in slow time, Raz hazarded a glance down at Fidel. The strong man’s eyes were closed. His breath was labored, bloody flecks flying with every weak cough. Raz looped his arm under Fidel’s and stood up. With far less effort than he had any right to expect, he heaved his friend into a fireman's carry, hoping he wasn’t inflicting still more damage on Fidel’s broken body. Eyes on Mercator, Raz made his way toward the exit. The giant followed.

[Catalyst levels critical!]

Fidel was so much heavier than he’d ever imagined. Despite his newfound Might, each step was a struggle. The deep black unlit tunnel abruptly blazed to life with an odd glow that didn’t seem to come from anywhere.

Mercator was closing in, limping but still very much in the fight. Each long, slow step ate up several of Raz’s staggering steps. Somehow, Raz dug deeper and found the strength to run. The tunnel leading out seemed much longer than it had been. Each time Raz glanced behind him at the pursuing giant, the dark doorway ahead of him seemed to be further away.

Before long, the infusion of strength gave out, and Raz collapsed to the floor under Fidel’s weight. Raz shifted to a backward crawl, dragging Fidel along as fast as he could while desperately pulling at White Fire through the conduit.

Suddenly, Mercator was upon them. The giant grabbed at Raz’s boot. Raz saw the movement just in time to send out a weak tongue of lightning. Mercator’s fist slammed down and smashed Raz’s foot in his boot, one of the few places he wasn’t armored.

Raz screamed as he felt his ankle and heel destroyed under the crushing blow. The sound stirred Fidel, who looked around with disoriented, uncomprehending eyes. The giant fell back under the blast of lightning, striking the stone floor with a hard thunk.

Raz kept pushing, moving them along with one arm and one leg, knowing that with Mercator so close, a second spared to heal either of them would be their last.

Fidel finally seemed to understand what was happening, and tried to help. His body still retained much of his awesome strength, but he seemed unable to coordinate his own limbs. “You need go! Leave me!” He whispered harshly into Raz’s ear as they crawled up the gentle slope, inch by agonizing inch.

“No! Not leaving you.” Raz grunted out between panting breath and the occasional agonized yelp when his crushed heel bumped the stone floor. Behind them, Mercator got back to his feet. Raz kept pulling at White Fire, and keeping his energy topped off, desperately hoping he could muster enough of both.

“Am finished! You must live! Leave me.” Fidel pleaded with him around mouthfuls of frothy blood. Raz didn’t reply, just shook his head and grimaced at the thought as he ignored the screaming agony from his crushed foot and forced himself to crawl a little faster.

The giant stood and chuckled, the low, rolling laugh filling the air over the pained grunts of both men. “Well, all in all, a better fight than I expected. Perhaps there might be some small glory to be had in this middling realm of humans after all. Your kind might even be worth something.” The giant reached down at them with a disdainful grin. “But probably not much, you’re only human.”

Raz saw the vast hand slowly descending upon them and forced himself to look away from it toward the exit. Gripping tight to Fidel he stretched out his hand and will, praying he was close enough and forced them both into the lightning.

Spark Gap!

Even deep within the slow time, the speed of lightning in the air was overwhelming. Spark Gap carried them to the intangible barrier separating Mercator’s lair from Earth. Raz found the weapon back in his hand. He wasn’t quite close enough to reach outside the barrier.

Fidel’s quiet, terrible stillness spurred him on. Raz pushed out with both feet and nearly passed out at the shocking wave of agony from his crushed heel. A dark haze fell over his vision as he struggled to stay conscious past the debilitating pain. The second of pain stretched out in slow time, becoming minutes of nauseating misery.

From a few hundred yards further down the tunnel, Mercator’s enraged cry echoed to them. Raz felt more than saw a series of those annihilating discs of tainted reality flung at them.

He reached back toward the exit, and found that the hard won movement had been just enough. With the weapon in hand, he pushed his gauntleted hand past the barrier and instantly felt the full force of White Fire at his disposal.

Despite the desperate horror of his situation, Raz felt his face twisting into a bloody grin. As the discs of annihilation approached, Raz sent a dense web of lightning shooting down the tunnel. Where White Fire met the perversions of space, they withered and died under the cleansing Quantum Blade. The remaining lightning lashed Mercator across his body, raking him with thin trails of fire, but not doing nearly enough to stop him. Taking the chance he still had, Raz focused on his hand outside the barrier, and pulled Fidel with him into the lightning once more.

This Spark Gap only carried him a few dozen feet past the exit, leaving his energy nearly drained. He spotted the group of Mercator’s released ‘guests’ huddled together a ways off, but couldn't spare them any further thoughts. Raz released his grip on Fidel, knowing this wasn’t over. The weapon voraciously drank in White Fire until it was an angry, crackling thunderbolt held in his fist, each clawed end lost in the blinding spray of lightning and fire, appearing more like he was gripping a bolt of lightning in his fist than a weapon.

The giant appeared at his door. He took in the sight of the blazing shard of White Fire in Raz’s hand and took a step back. “This isn’t over. I’ll—”

Raz threw the weapon. It blasted forth from his hand in a blinding spray of energy. The weapon accelerated through the air as a living bolt of lightning, blowing the giant’s arm off at the elbow in an explosion of pale blue flesh and bone. The arm hit the ground with a meaty thump and the scent of burned meat. Mercator let out a shocked, high pitched sound of pain, and dove through a portal.

Raz stretched out his free hand and caught the returning weapon. It quickly charged back up into another fiery display of spraying sparks and crackling arcs.

At the edge of his awareness, he noticed his mother approaching them.

“Stay back!” Raz shouted at her. His voice was hoarse and utterly exhausted. He could feel a portal forming somewhere very close.

Her eyes widened, a sudden, tentative recognition filling her.

As he called out, a portal snapped into being right next to him. Mercator’s clawed hand shot through the opening and wrapped around his midsection. Raz dropped into slow time, knowing he had precious little Catalyst remaining. Mercator was hampered by the lack of an arm, but nonetheless dragged Raz inexorably toward the portal with inhuman strength.

Raz thrust the living thunderbolt into the stony ground. The snap of lightning and fire sealing the weapon in place. He gripped it tightly and tried to resist Mercator’s inhuman strength. As he hoped, the gauntlet and weapon were as one while he kept his hand closed.

Mercator let go of Raz, his expression no longer amused, simply a bloody mask of determination. He reached out and over Raz with his lengthy arm. In a flash, Raz saw it all as it would unfold. That monstrously long and powerful arm would reach over him, and one of several things would happen. Either Mercator would pull, or simply knock his grip loose, or yank the weapon right out of the stone. The instant that happened, the giant would easily yank Raz through the portal, and once inside, Raz knew he’d never get back out again. Then again, the giant might simply reach past Raz, and pull Fidel back inside, where his friend would surely be eaten instead.

No! I won’t let it happen!

From the corner of his eye, Raz could see his mother still running toward him despite his warning. He dropped a Friendly Fire icon on her, hoped she would be ok, and forced her out of his mind. He rolled himself between Fidel’s gasping, bloody form and the hateful visage of Mercator, and drank deep from the endless sea of White Fire as he removed all the markers on Mercator, and placed a new target. Finally, he reached out with his free hand, and wrapped his arm around the giant’s wrist. Mercator seemed to sense some danger, some unseen threat from this action. The giant instinctively pulled back against Raz’s deathgrip.

No more! You’re not getting away! Skybolt!

The giant’s strength dwarfed everything Raz could bring to bear. But everything Raz could bring to bear, was just enough to slow the giant’s instinctive retreat back through the portal. The blinding lightning bolt that struck its target inches away was stronger even than the one he'd used in that desperate fight along the desert cliff. Quantum Blade triggered, decisively.

Mercator howled, the sound abruptly cut off as his portal died and snapped shut, leaving his huge arm and most of his head behind. Something about the information above Mercator’s head worried Raz, but there was no time for dwelling on it.

Raz felt his vision dimming, and clung to consciousness. Can’t pass out! I have to finish this!

A single Ground Control marker on the main tunnel entry, and he opened the gate to White Fire and let it scourge the entrance to Mercator’s lair with a vengeance. Once he felt the pocket dimension collapse with a silent burst of energy, Raz managed to close the gate to White Fire, then reached out to heal Fidel.

The burly Russian grasped his hand tightly, gasping for breath. “Spasibo. Thank you. You stand for me is honor.” he struggled to wheeze out amidst the choking bloody froth.

“Don’t talk! You’ve got bone shards in your heart and lungs! Just be still and let me fix you!” Raz demanded, pouring energy and Somatic Restoration into Fidel, balancing what little slow time he had left against how much Catalyst would be needed to fix a dozen lethal injuries all at once.

“Nyet my friend. I go now. Too long I live for nothing. Wish for more time, but not mind, die for something. Счастье мое.” Fidel breathed something in Russian, then his strained grimace relaxed into a beatific relaxed smile, as something ineffable slipped away from his body. His hand relaxed, and went limp in Raz’s grasp. From Fidel's other hand, the bloody axe head slipped to the ground with a soft clink of metal on stone.

For a long time after, Raz refused to accept that Fidel was gone, struggling and forcing his ability to heal the broken body until the blackness of exhaustion reached up and pulled him down into darkness.