Bulldogging

Lo Nine

Gideon

Quantum blades.

It just had to be quantum blades.

“Stay inside the box.”

An alloy weapon would have been preferred.

But this...

He breathed heavily as the larger man rushed towards him. It was a lazy and telegraphed move to bait the rookie. But he was no rookie. Not with Steak coaching him on internal comms. Not with three years of dedicated knife fighting technique that all Primetech royalty received.

“Now.”

He dodged the first incoming strike from Mammon’s energy blade. The air crackled as he smelled burnt ozone from the near hit. The Chosen barked a laugh as he backed away, strutting around the fighting ring, arms wide as the others cheered and shouted for their leader. The blade thrummed, waiting to score. He was using a quantum energy blade of an unfamiliar make.

“He is baiting you.”

I know. I’m Going to make this smug joker regret it.

He gave the weapon but a thought and the connection linked in his mind. It was similar to QSD tech, except more basic, more streamlined of a military conveyor assembly. He thought of the blade he needed and the weapon responded. Basing his design on a metal or alloy knife, such as tanto or drop-point blades would have been a trap; one lacking in imagination. He knew this tech back home. This hinted that Lucifer had old world knowledge or discovered old technology. If a blade of pure quantum energy touched another, both would violently reject one another, which then became a test of strength. One he would lose against this Mammon. Clip-point Pikal style blades were inferior in this regard, as were sheepsfoot and Wharncliffe. If one wanted an effective blade, one needed to look further into the past. Needlepoint or Speartip knives were right out, but they were close to what he had in mind. All of it was wasted material on building the structure of a knife meant for alloy or plasticine. This was quantum energy. And yet this Mammon was both arrogant in quantum blades and posture.

“Gideon! Do be careful!” Soltana cried from the side as a masked Chosen knelt down to grip her shoulder, gently pulling her back.

The blade extended to a foot long thread, curving along the spine of the length. Part rapier, part scimitar, just thicker than a hair's breadth. You only needed to touch the edge to flesh, armor, alloy to either sheer, ignite, or melt away the material. It was only a few microns in thickness, but that was all that was needed, not the wasted potential that was Mammon’s forked energy knife.

“A good quantum blade,” Steak exhorted.

He needed stims, but he could only look down at his disconnected QSD pack on the black stone, in between his towering opponent. He hoped and prayed skill won out over raw strength.

Gideon, a man of the average in all respects apart from training and pedigree. Crushed and forged by a new reality. Growing, learning, and surviving.

Mammon, a super man, the mythical Ubermensch of ancient philosophy. A Faithful One who survived Lucifer's hell and back again. Bigger. Faster. Stronger. Tougher.

The odds were stacked against him.

And it was a knife fight with quantum energy blades. You never walked away unscathed from those, much less without a missing limb or two. It was more difficult to survive a bout from such a duel simply due to the nature of the weapon. A simple flick could send fingers, hands, wrists or entire arms smoldering and flaming to the deck. Mammon stopped and gazed at his weapon.

“A strand of grass for a blade? That’s the best a Seal Holder can imagine?”

He pivoted to the side, down to the ground in a single agile move, sweeping the blade against the black stone, emitting a blast of screeching sparks as both blade and stone rejected one another.

“He seeks to intimidate you.”

Well, he’ll have to do better than that. I’ve already met gods, demons, void horrors, and Lucifer herself. This pissant is actually quite low on the ladder if you really think about it.

“He favors attacking over defense. He keeps his offhand low. He is telegraphing that he will bulldog you.”

He held his posture as the Chosen’s hollering increased, cheering on their leader. It was an old prison fighting style taken on by military forces. It was a cheap and dishonorable tactic, but there were no rules in knife fighting. Put the offhand into someone’s face, be hyper aggressive, and then stab them to death.

“Come on, Gideon! Give me a better fight than the last Seal Holder. She didn’t last too long. But at least she was pretty. And a good lay.”

His eye twitched as Gideon coldly stared back at him, refusing to be baited. His temper was beginning to flare, but he forgot not a second of his training. He channeled it. Focusing it into the adrenaline dumped he needed. His multitasking brain allowed him to manage his limbs independently. But right now, he used all of it for one very simple task: keep an eye on Mammon’s knife. Never be distracted and break the focus of that one goal.

“Eye on the knife.”

Eye on the knife.

They communicated as one.

“He is positioned for your main hand, sixty-degrees.”

They began to circle one another as Gideon kept pace. Mammon strode forward, making quick and agile juking maneuvers to bait him into an overcommit. Gideon kept his eye on the twirling knife as it cut the very air itself. He raised his blade, straight ahead, keeping the arm angled and hair-blade pointed towards Mammon.

“He is telegraphing. Watch his grapple.”

Mammon bellowed a shout as he scooted forward, jabbing forward with the blade. Gideon swept his own away with a flick of the wrist, spinning it around the strike and keeping it level to Mammon’s torso. The Chosen was purposefully seeking to touch the blades together. If that happened, no doubt he would be the one on the ground with Mammon atop him.

“You’ve played with these before?” the bigger man chuckled at him.

Gideon took a tentative step forward, lunging with his own blade. Mammon backed away, sweeping with his dagger, but missing by inches. Despite his size, Gideon’s foot long quantum blade gave him reach over Mammon’s four inch knife. The bigger Chosen was quite possibly never used to exerting himself, as per the lineage of a Faithful One and their nearly infinite stamina. Gideon had to train, become exhausted, and learn to use movements with the least amount of telegraphing or strain. He was mortal and trained to accept those facts. Mammon was not and apparently had trained as such.

Mammon swung in a wide armed flurry, as if the weapon relied upon strength. Elderly ladies could ward off a mob with a quantum blade, with no more weight than a handheld control device.

It was a weapon of speed and agility as opposed to a steel war axe of old.

“Disengage now,” Steak barked.

Gideon backed away as Mammon had dove prone to the ground suddenly, swiping with his off hand to grasp his boot. Gideon had dodged by a hair’s breadth seeking to punish the Chosen.

“Back off,” Steak advised.

Gideon obeyed, choosing not to strike- which was the wise choice as Mammon pushed with his off hand, springing back to his feet in an almost impossible move a normal man could not make. If he had decided to take that chance, he would have slit from ankle to brow. The man lunged again, making a series of quick jabs at Gideon, forcing him to dance away, out of arm’s reach of the pernicious crowd. He kept his posture tight in ‘the box’, offhand guarding his precious torso. Against a quantum blade, it only helped to be a smaller target.

He flicked out with his longer knife, forcing Mammon to use an ounce of caution.

The Chosen smirked as he went lower, slashing in a high arc, forcing Gideon back and leaping inside his guard. He backed away, bumping into the crowd and flicking his wrist. The searing and shriek rang out as the blade made contact. Mammon backed off with a laugh as the other Chosen kicked and shoved him forward. He felt an intense burning stab in his back, above the rib cage. He gasped and dropped to his knees, keeping the blade leveled at Mammon as both eyed each other. He reached around and felt the blood pouring from the wound. It was an alloy knife, shallow, but it still hurt like grief.

“Gideon, to your feet,” Steak relayed.

Mammon scoffed a chuckle as he shook his head, gesturing with his offhand. The Chosen’s eyes went wide as he realized he was now missing two fingers. And his glove was on fire. Gideon couldn’t help but smirk at the man’s sudden humility. On the ground were two smoldering digits.

The pain radiated from his ribs. He just wanted to lie down now. Today was simply too long. But he couldn’t.

“Gideon!” Soltana cried from afar.

The roar of the crowd silenced as all watched with new intent. He began to rise as a lance of burning ran through his back. He fell to his hands and knees, raising up his blade as Mammon took a step forward, halting with a new found caution at the thin blade. The Ubermensch was wounded. Gideon limped to his feet, hand at his side as he leveled his weapon.

“Watch his offhand,” Steak warned.

Mammon reached behind his belt, casually palming a canister.

“That was a good strike- I’m actually impressed. Who trained you?”

There was Grand Master Lionel, Master Han, and he could never forget the dreaded Master Wushu. But now wasn’t the time for memory or banter.

“Piss off, you joker. I’ll never dreading tell you,” he winced in pain from the exertion of simply speaking.

Mammon’s eye twitched. Gideon discovered in their brief relationship the man hated being denied.

“Verywell. I’ll just wring the answers from you.”

“Watch the item!” Steak warned.

He threw the cannister in his offhand at Gideon, faster than what a professional sports player could perform. On instinct he flicked his wrist, cutting the thing in half. It blasted and detonated, sending him reeling back as white smoke engulfed him, choking his lungs and burning his eyes. Mammon’s silehouted form rushed in, kicking a leg and causing him to stumble to a knee. He tried to keep the knife point at the Chosen, but it only touched the man’s blade. They sparked and shrieked at one another, kicking and rejecting each other away, flinging the quantum blade from Gideon’s hand. A firm hand crushed down on his windpipe, slamming him to the ground and down atop his fresh wound. He was tearing up, trying to scream as the agony of being throttled and pinned down atop his wound. He could focus on nothing else but the pain. The smoke began to clear as Gideon saw the man’s intense and feral eyes staring down at him. He couldn’t breathe, like being crushed in a landslide. Fear stole his heart as his trembling hands gripped Mammon’s own, powerless to break his iron vice hold.

“Fight, Gideon!” Steak barked.

He gagged, punching at his hand. His vision swam with spots as he lost focus of the world.

And then the hand released. He could breathe again as he coughed and gagged at his screaming windpipe.

Mammon was staring down at him, dagger flipped to underhanded as it crackled and ripped the air.

The man bent down close, touching forehead to Gideon, far too close for any sort of comfort, engulfing his view. It was a violating sort of touch, as if skin-to-skin was a sign of Mammon’s dominance over him. He wanted to curl up and hide, he wanted this whole day to be over. He wished he stayed on the Decima.

“I’m going to slay you right now, Gideon,” the man whispered in his face.

He couldn’t respond, his windpipe still trying to open from the throttling he sustained.

“I’m going to take this dagger and run it through your chest. And there is no heaven or hell that you can do to stop me,” Mammon gave a final kiss on his forehead as he pulled back, straddling him.

He shivered at the crackling knife.

The dagger began to lower all too slowly. Gideon eyed the blade and gripped the man's wrist with both hands. At first he strained as the dagger paused, but Mammon smirked as he simply enforced more strength.

It was getting within inches of his chest. He couldn’t fight it. His strength was tapped out. He tried to scream, tried to cry. A slow inevitable knife to the chest was up there with drowning and being burned alive. The powerlessness drained him of hope.

“Sh-sh-sh! Just let it happen- be quiet and rest,” Mammon muttered as his mouth began to curl upward.

“Quick, Gideon, were there any security measures on the blade?”

I don’t know! Dread! Steak! Help me!

He had only one move to make. Mammon’s knife. Was it encoded? The very fact he handed a piece of it to him was confirmation these devices were open and insecure. He snaked his index finger around Mammon’s wrist and touched the dagger, thinking of the perfect counter. The forked blade vanished as a wide sickle blade of quantum energy curved in towards his forearm, sizzling through his wrist and dismembering it completely. It flopped and clattered to the floor as Mammon barked a cry and fell back. A ripping agony tore through his finger as he screamed.

Mammon scrambled back, retreating from Gideon. He stared at his smoldering stump as flames began to catch. He blinked in shock as he looked down at his hand as that too caught fire from the quantum blade. Both knives had gone dark.

Gideon curled up, willing the pain and fear to go away. His finger was gone. Taken as a sacrificial move to hurt the Chosen.

The crowd went silent. Mammon glanced at his Chosen, his lip curling. Gideon looked up with satisfaction at seeing humiliation on the supposed Ubermensch's face. But to see he was only irritated with the injury was terrifying. He composed himself, taking on that calm and sweet tone.

“You fought well, Gideon. Didn’t think you could override another’s blade. It’ll be our secret- right men? We’ll have a few more surprises for those back home. If anyone can grab a Chosen’s weapon, then our brothers deserve their fate.”

The other Chosen had their weapons leveled, ready to execute. He looked to Soltana, seeing her tiny hand out, as if willing to take it in his own.

“You have my respect now, Gideon.”

He wanted to speak- to say anything. To tell Mammon to shove his respect up his own ass, but couldn’t say a word as his trachea still felt like a swollen coil wrapped around his neck.

Mammon smirked, the light catching his violet eyes enough to trick one into thinking they glowed.

“I mistook you for a frail milkfoot. Now I see there's a real clever bastard in you- very much so. You know- you’re just like me.”

He tried to say a word, but breathing alone was difficult enough. He thrashed as a lance of pain ripped through his body, causing him to whimper.

“Were we always like that?” Mammon asked in genuine bewilderment, “were we always so fragile?”

The Chosen looked around, finding no answer. His severed hand had been fully engulfed by flames, despite the body’s normal water count. Quantum blade injuries always involved the evaporation of liquids upon dismemberment; which meant the limbs were then irreparably destroyed. Mammon turned to leave, appearing far more spirited since losing a hand. Gideon felt the stump of his left index finger, snuffing out the small flame that smoldered at the wound.

Dreaded grief! he wanted to say, but couldn’t.

The larger Chosen chuckled at his pain, raising an eyebrow.

“Take heart Gideon, wear the scar with pride. It’ll grow back. Wait- your limbs do grow back- do they?”

His finger lay near the burning hand, dancing with its own flame.

Mammon nodded, as if answering his own question. He looked down at his stump, eyes wide with a sudden intensity. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he let out a final cry. A hand blossomed from the stump, bones, tendon, muscle, then flesh, knitting together all within a second. He appeared to almost stumble, as if regenerating a limb put a heavy toll on him.

“Brothers- let them go. We’re moving out,” he gestured with his new hand, still freshly pink and lacking the defined jutting veins of a strong man.

Many of the Chosen glanced up at him with visible confusion written in their postures.

“But sir, they bear the Seal?”

He blinked at the other Chosen, as if the question itself was stupid.

“And?”

“Lucifer ordered us to capture-”

He spoke with a pointed tone for each word, “-and, we, didn’t, find, any.”

The men pulled back, allowing Gideon to his feet and fading away from Steak. The fog helped screen the men as they vanished into the winding stairs of the Escher room.

“But-”

“Are you so desperate a spineless simp that you’ll take any opportunity that presents itself? Huh? Are you not your own man, but a groveling slave?”

The other Chosen went quiet. He continued, “we can afford to move on- we’ll find others to make our god happy. Earning Lucifer’s love is inevitable. It is the one guarantee in life.”

He turned back to them.

“Think of this as my debts paid to you, little Soltana. I may be a bastard, but I honor those who honor me,” his gaze suddenly became more intense,

“Now- if I see any of you again, all bets are off. You’ll give me your best fight, like Gideon gave me. You’ll do it- you’ll fight for your life- or I’ll make you wish you were only torn apart by hand. Understood?”

Gideon didn’t know what to think. This man appeared both mentally insane and yet intelligently calculating. He still had little idea how he snuck behind them in this labyrinth. He saw his precious QSD and crawled along the floor to collect it. He winced as he reattached the device. Steak drifted over to his side. Excertius gripped his good hand, getting him to his feet and supporting him.

Connecting...

…...

Instance 25210666 created

OS: Cor….

Nope.

Gideon instantly powered off the device at the cursed instance number of ‘666’, reconnecting it to his back.

Connecting...

…...

Instance 47585751 created

OS: Cor….

Warning!

Trachea damage detected.

Puncture wound detected.

Dismemberment detected.

Seek immediate medical attention.

Capsiphine administered.

Coagulant administered.

He was held up only by Steak’s assistance. His mind swam as the escher room spun, which didn’t help due to the already winding nature of the structure.

The Chosen had vanished apart from Mammon as he gave them a winning smile.

“Remember well my name- you’ll see me again soon. Guaranteed. Until next time.”

The Chosen silently vanished away into the retreating fog.

Gideon lay down on his back. All he did at this time was breath. The intense agony was gone, but the fear of the moment remained strong as death. Soltana trotted to his side, grabbing his hand. Steak marched to him, kneeling down.

“It is my fault for not calculating potential ambushes. I did not suspect that some had snuck inside. I had thought my scanning was infallible.”

“It’s alright, Steak… I… He’s just some pissant with delusions of god. Dreading grief it all, why is Lucifer here?” he muttered.

Gideon stared at Soltana, feeling the worry emanate from her. Which was odd because she was an Anform and body language was impossible to read.

“Gideon. I am sorry. I do not know if I should have rescued him.”

“I’m starting to think he didn’t need to be saved,” he rasped.

“Indeed,” Steak added.

“I wish to not see him again," she added.

“Don’t worry, we won’t. He’ll never get the drop on us again like that,” he felt down at his index stump, chilling at the mortality of it all.

Stimulant injected

He needed to prevent shock from setting in. He was still in a combat situation. He marched over to the dagger he was given and stored it away in into his QSD

1 - Quantum Blade - ######

He couldn’t read the text for who made the weapon, but he had to at least give it to the maker that it was a fine weapon. He now had a moment to breathe as he dragged his heels to the power armor. Mammon was not only stronger and insane, but the way he would physically dominate him implied a weaponization of intimacy he intended to never experience again. That he could mentally break someone through illicit touch was a concept he never knew of.

“Good Gideon, are you well?” Steak inquired.

“I’m not. But I’ll live.”

He touched his power armor suit and it complied, opening and moving to encase him inside. He could still feel his finger, could still flex it, and his mind would tell him it was indeed flexed. But then he looked down at the empty stump. The suit closed around him as his limbs continued to tremble. He had just taken another traumatic injury. But he was victorious. He survived. He humbled the Ubermensch Chosen, defeating him at his own game, even as the men surrounding him cheated a knife into his back. He survived- but not without scars. Those were laws of a knife fight.

“Alright, Steak and Soltana. I’ll keep inside the cutter armor once we leave here.”

He still limped despite the armor.

“Oh and Soltana?”

Yes, Gideon?

“Let’s try not to save anymore Chosen, right?”

“I cannot make any promises,” she replied as he knelt down, lowering his arm as a bridge which she climbed aboard, holding onto his shoulder ring.

“Good. Glad we’re settled on that. Let’s find the others and get the hell out of here. The Dusk- the Watchers- have their Tesseract… I mean- their person- back; so we’re done here.”

He looked down at the scaly sack, owned by the cowardly and stupid Gup. He sighed, hefting it and clicking it in place around his back again. He winced at the tender pain, despite the capsiphine. The demon still hid, probably too scared to come out.

There was a faint noise, similar to the shriek of escaping steam. It was rhythmic, fading out for a minute at a time before crying out again. It got closer. He realized it was laughter.

“HEHEHE…”

All turned at the noise in the distance, echoing off the escher room walls. It was strange. It was malevolent. It sounded like a shrieking goat for some odd reason.

“Now what?” he materialized a new pulse rifle, equipping the holy enchantment. For his new quantum dagger, it took the speed enchantment beautifully as he then strapped it to magnetic sheath. He touched the Cutter armor, storing that into his QSD. Whatever this was, he would most likely have to run through tight quarters.

It was what Soltana said next that filled him with fear.

“No! It can’t be him! Gideon we must leave- now!”

“Multiple threats detected up ahead- correction- a singular threat detected up ahead. Correction! Multiple threats detected!” Steak began to back up, arms and weapons at the ready.

“What the hell is it, Steak!?” Gideon barked as his own scanners attempted to find the new threat. Silhouettes danced at the edges. They merged into a tall thin figure with a spherical head. And then they broke apart into writhing shapes. He didn’t know what he was looking at. Scanners were detecting nothing. No radiation, heat, energy, frequency, or life signs. He wouldn’t have seen it all if it weren’t for the hideous movement and vibrations. It merged together again like water droplets.

“Little lambs, little lambs, little sheep, little flock."

“Do you know the hour; the tic; the toc of the clock?”

“Tic toc, snicker-snack, crackle-crunch-snap of the back.”

“Time for bed, to sleep, to slumber, to be heap’d with the dead.”

“Come away, little sheep; come away! Come away. The tooth bites quick, but gives dreamy sleep.”

His nerves trembled at the demented poem.

“What the dreaded hell is it talking about?” Gideon muttered as he searched for an exit.

“We must leave- now!” Soltana pleaded.

“Move it!” Gideon bellowed as he half-sprinted to the edge of the cube, using the suits antigrav thrusters and pistons to leap off and into a window, his foot slipped against the sill as he dropped and clattered to the room within. His body lanced with pain and disorientation. The room spun, his limbs shrieked with fire. He felt a tiny hand tapping his shoulder, grounding him to reality.

“Gideon, please get up. Neon is here. We must leave. We cannot meet him or you will all be destroyed!”

“I remember-” he grunted as he got to his feet. Steak floated through the window, gracefully touching down as if carried by strings.

He barely kept on his toes as his body trembling from shock. He gripped his rifle, opting for a left handed hold. Every movement of his hand reminded him of what he lost. He hoped Prosine had the facilities or means to regenerate or grow a new one.

Perhaps Deborah could…

“The window,” Steak barked as he fired a fusillade of laser beams. Red, greens, and blues dazzled his eyes despite the protective visor.

“HEHEHEHE…”

Cackling resounded from outside.

“Come on!” he shouted, hurrying down the hall. He passed by a tight crossing of corridors bumping into a Chosen, both stumbling to the ground. Steak floated behind, using a swift kick into the man’s visored head and shattering it. The man grunted and stayed down as more Chosen on the right hall barked a cry.

“They’re following us! Those fools! Behind- behind!”

Steak helped him to his feet as Soltana channeled her power, blocking off the crossing behind them. The orange glow rippled as gunfire rang out, ricocheting against her barricade.

“HEHEHEHEH…”

He heard more Chosen pouring back out the hall, halting at the shield. He turned and looked, seeing the tall green figure sauntering to them. He almost gagged from fright and the hideous visage. The Chosen cried out.

“Contact! Demonic entity- Prince level!”

They began to shoot, filling the hall with a continuous din of pulse fire. Men began to scream. One shrieked as the green demon gripped a Chosen by the waist and forced him, body and all into his mouth.

“Watch your right!“

“He’s got Abimelech!”

“It’s not a Prince! God-tier; it’s god-tier!”

“Begone, chaff.”

The voice raked his mind, causing him to stumble and fall. Green energy shrieked out as the men ceased to exist.

“God-tier!? Another one? Dreading grief it all- run!”

The green being halted at the barrier, palming his hand against the shield.

“Soltaaaanaaaa! Why are you running? Who are your new friends? Be a pal- be a sport! Come back. Please?”

“Do not listen to him, we must escape!”

More gunfire rang out as Chosen continued to intercept the threat. They screamed as their lives ended under that hideous shrieking emerald beam.

“The adults are speaking. Begone.”

“Good Soltana, please explain quickly what we are facing.”

She shuffled her feet, eyes glowing briefly.

“He is the most terrifying being I have ever met in my brief existence. And this is after I met Lucifer in a dream.”

That was good enough for him.

“Steak- deploy everything! The DINES, Rumblers- all of it!”

He hobbled along as Steak slowed down, turning and dematerializing one of the mini Rumblers in the hall. The corridor glowed as it began to form. It was too tight, but with the liquid steel, the chassis of the Rumbler molded to the hall, growing higher and higher into a wall of glinting alloy.

Red eyes dotted it, scanning ahead for threats. He prayed it was half as successful against this ‘Neon’ as it was for the Compiler.

“The hall is too narrow for CK-DINES,” he announced as he tossed more smoke and phosphorus grenades.

Exhaustion was setting in for him, even with stims. His body cried out for him to quit.

“HEHEHEHEH…”

The instinctual fear that he felt from that hideous laugh drove him onward as they escaped deeper into the land of the Watchers. He didn’t think Mammon was so bad, compared to the horrors that surrounded him.

More men screamed. More met their end. The echoing of tearing flesh and snapping bone sickenes him.

No, Mammon wasn’t so bad, in fact.

They retreated further into darkness.