Now, Earth

“I’m going to do a walk around of the perimeter, Mrs. Cruces.”

“That won’t be necessary, Rodrigo,” Cal’s mom regarded the gaggle of children eating ice cream and watching the movie in the living room. “We’re perfectly safe in here.”

“Sorry, but I’m a little antsy with most of us on the Quest.”

“I told Rayna that you didn’t need to watch us.”

“I volunteered, ma’am. Wasn’t really looking forward to the blood and guts,” Rodrigo noted the dismayed look on Cal’s mom’s face. “Er… I mean I didn’t really want to kill anyone… other humans, I mean… what I meant to say was—”

“It’s alright… you’re a good man for not wanting to do any of that.”

Rodrigo shrugged his broad shoulders. “I just didn’t want to not do anything while my ranger brothers and sisters are risking their lives out there… so here I am.”

“Well… we appreciate your protection,” Cal’s mom smiled.

“Not that you really need it,” Rodrigo grinned sheepishly.

“Exactly, which is why you don’t need to go outside. Anything that can get inside will…”

“Pretty much tear me apart,” Rodrigo winced, “I know… how about I look out the windows? If that’s okay with you?”

“Sure… just no shoes upstairs.”

“Of course, ma’am”

Cal’s mom was content to sit at the kitchen table while watching the kids watching a movie. The ice cream in their hands didn’t even bother her. Wooden floors brought peace of mind that she couldn’t put a price on.

However, her husband and children being in dangerous situations out there in the dark night stole away the warm comfort the children brought into her home.

In truth she felt that she was precariously balancing on a stack of blocks.

She and her husband should’ve been deep into their retirement. Enjoying time spent with their children and grand kids, traveling they had put off, good food, just generally relaxing after the struggle of raising four kids to adulthood.

Cal’s mom sighed.

They only had to see Rayna through college when the spires had ruined everything.

Now they had powers, which constantly put them in conflict with monsters and terrible people.

Fate, as it was wont, decided that this was the moment to kick the blocks out from under her feet.

Rodrigo came rushing down the stairs.

He didn’t bother putting his boots back on.

“What is it?” Cal’s mom was alarmed.

“In front of your house, on the street.” Rodrigo grabbed a flare gun from the pack he had left by the door. He ran out into the backyard, fired and reloaded as fast as he could. Three bright red flares shot up like rockets.

Cal’s mom rushed to the front living room’s window.

A group of people was standing right beneath the street light.

No.

That wasn’t right.

Two were standing.

Four were on their knees.

Her eyes narrowed.

She recognized them.

“That’s—”

“Mr. Lindsay and his family,” Rodrigo had his M4 in his hands, “don’t know the other two, but this doesn’t look good.”

An understatement.

The Lindsay’s were bloodied and crying.

“They were at their victory party,” Cal’s mom’s voice was soft. Her mind didn’t want to accept the reality of the situation. “Is this a trick? An illusion by some new monster to get us out there?”

“We’re safe as long as we stay inside. I’ve sent up the flares. We’ll get reinforcements soon.”

Cal’s mom nodded. “Rangers aren’t far away.”

“Most everyone is on the Quest. The rest are guarding our borders. There’s one squad back at base.”

“Are all the windows closed?”

“Yes, ma’am… I shut the upstairs ones as soon as I saw.”

“Come out or these people will die terrible deaths!” a heavyset woman bellowed.

“Goddamn, she sounds as brutal as she looks,” Rodrigo said. “I- I- should I take her out?”

Cal’s mom could see the agony in Rodrigo’s eyes. “I can’t tell you what to do.”

“Right… right, of course not. That’s my responsibility.”

“They’re not doing anything yet, maybe it’s a bluff. If we can keep them talking…”

“Can you do that? Keep them talking, I mean… I’ll run upstairs for a better shot in case…”

Cal’s mom nodded.

“I can see you!” the heavyset woman said.

“What do you want?”

“You in exchange for these four. Just come out and they’re night of suffering is over. They’re fates are in your hands.”

“You can let them go right now.”

The heavyset woman sneered. She pointed at Mrs. Lindsay and had the poor woman thrashing in agony with a word.

Cal’s mom couldn’t bare to watch.

The seconds seemed interminable.

“The kids are next,” the heavyset woman spoke over Mrs. Lindsay’s miserable sobs, “I’ll let you chose. The boy or the girl?”

“Please!” Graeme Lindsay begged.

Cal’s mom couldn’t tell if he was directing it to her or the heavyset woman.

“Well?” the heavyset woman rolled her eyes. “Fine, boy it is then.”

“No! For God’s sake, please!”

“Shut up!” the man that resembled a weasel tugged roughly on Graeme’s collar, pressing his face to the asphalt.

The heavyset woman pointed a finger at the cowering boy.

Gunfire erupted from upstairs.

Three round bursts struck the woman and the weasel-like man driving them back from.

Cal’s mom acted.

A translucent dome, shimmering with the colors of the rainbow sprang into life over the Lindsay's.

There.

The family was safe.

All she had to do was wait for the rangers to come.

Maybe her husband or one of her children saw the flares. They’d come.

She could hold her forcefield long enough for help to arrive. Meanwhile they were safe inside the house.

She let out the breath she had been holding.

The sliding door glass shattered inward.

Children screamed.

She turned to see an impossible figure standing in her kitchen.

It was very tall and unnaturally thin and pale.

It had a human like face, almost beautiful if not for the too-large eyes that made it disturbing.

Long blonde hair perfectly framed its face. Ears shaped like knives stabbed out from its head.

Cal’s mom had seen its like in the movies.

“Elves?” the word slipped from her mouth.

“I curse the spires’ automatic translation system. I know that your kind has no knowledge of what I am. The name of my kind should not be sullied by your inferior tongue. Yet, I hear it coming out of your mouth.”

Cal’s mom held out a hand. “Don’t move.”

“Chattel does not command me.” Large eyes darted to the children cowering near the television. The hunger was unmistakable. “The innocent. I find it interesting that they are the most fruitful of harvests across many worlds and many kinds.”

“I’m warning you—”

“Cease your bleating. Let it be known that you allowed me inside your dwelling. The protection would have been sufficient to slow me enough for others to come to your aid. It would only have cost you the lives of those four out front. Your act to protect them weakened that protection enough. How does it feel to know that those four will suffer then die? Just as these whelps?” It sneered. “Go ahead, I know you can protect yourself within a shell. I am content to make you watch.”

“Kids… run to me when I tell you,” Cal’s mom’s voice steadied.

Over-large eyes narrowed.

A shimmering wall cut the invader off from the kids.

“Run!” Cal’s mom beckoned the kids to her.

The invader spoke words of power and laid a hand on her forcefield.

It shattered and sent excruciating pain through her head.

Half the children had made it behind her.

The invader loomed over the others, including Rynnen, like a bogeyman made real.

“Shall I start with your kin? Or save him for last? You may decide.”

Cal’s mom screamed.

Out on the street the forcefield protecting the Lindsay's vanished.

Rodrigo continued to pour accurate fire, but the heavyset woman had conjured a magic shield of reddish purple blocking the bullets.

The weasel-like man approached the Lindsay's. “Shall I provide more power?” he leered at the teenage daughter.

“Yes… we must do as the master desires,” the heavyset woman snarled.

Sirens blared across the neighborhood tract.

A partial strength 42nd Squad, Fin in tow, barreled recklessly through the streets in a dark-colored SUV.

The sound of recognizable gunfire in the distance was encouraging. It meant their guy was still fighting.

“Sarge, shouldn’t we wait on reinforcements?” Dastardly clutched her repeating crossbow tight.

“You heard the radio. We’re under attack all along our northern and eastern border. We’re all that’s left,” Sgt. Muttley said. “This neighborhood is full of ranger families.”

“Right, so they’re safe in the houses since Rayna and her parents technically own them,” Dastardly pushed.

“Hear that gunfire?” Sgt. Muttley grunted. “Means that Rodrigo thought it was necessary to fight.”

Brighteyes poked Dastardly. “Something must’ve happened that made simply hunkering inside not the right move.”

“Collateral damage, Sarge?” Hammers said.

“Everybody knows to stay inside thanks to the sirens.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Dastardly said. “Big Bad Momma can protect the kiddies until Big Daddy or the Big Boss gets back.”

“Most of those kids are rangers’,” Brighteyes scowled.

Fin’s heart hammered inside his chest.

Memories were unlocking inside his head.

The magic he felt in the air was familiar.

Bad.

This was bad.

He tried, but he couldn’t voice the warning to the other rangers.

Much of what he had forgotten thanks to the drugged-out haze he had been in while captive, along with his subconscious’ efforts to protect him came back.

Fin wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry.

Revenge.

Clarity.

Fin’s mind snapped back to reality.

“Sgt. Muttley, sir… the people we’re about to face have magic than allows them to cause and feed on the pain of others,” Fin said flatly.

“You alright there, kid? You’re looking especially creepy,” Swampbutt leaned away from Fin.

“Well… shit,” Three-plates leaned over from the third row seats, “Rodrigo did send up three flares. Three! That’s like a super emergency.”

The SUV swerved around a corner and screeched to a halt.

“Jesus! A warning would’ve been nice, Useful!” Swampbutt rubbed the side of his head.

“Wear a fucking helmet, jackass!” Useful screamed back from the driver’s seat. “Sarge, what do you want me to do?” she pointed down about a block in front of them.

The street light shined down on something that the rangers would’ve rather remained in the dark.

A heavyset woman was near the middle of the street holding her arms up as gunfire from the Cruces’ home rained down on her magic shield.

That wasn’t what would haunt their nightmares.

The scene on the sidewalk would.

“What’s that guy doing?” Hammers whispered.

“Those are people on the ground,” Useful said.

“Bastard’s fuc—” Brighteyes roared.

“Useful, nail the woman,” Sgt. Muttley said calmly. “Me, Dastardly and Three-plates will handle the guy and secure their hostages. The rest of you make sure that woman dies.”

“What about the kid?” Swampbutt jabbed a thumb toward Fin.

“Ghost Sorcerer, stay back. If you see any openings take it,” Sgt. Muttley said. “Watch the friendly fire.”

“Now?” Useful grimaced.

The sergeant nodded.

“Seat belts! And hold on!” Useful tightened her hold on the wheel and floored it.

Tires screeched as a thick cloud of smoke billowed out from beneath the SUV.

The stench of burned rubber filled Fin’s nostrils.

Curses filled the interior as the less safety conscious rangers struggled to strap in.

The SUV lurched forward with frightening speed.

They slammed into the heavyset woman at close to 50mph.

A dull thud sent the woman flying dozens of feet to tumble across the asphalt.

Useful slammed on the breaks.

“Shit!” Swampbutt cursed. He had failed to put his seat belt on. His face met the back of Useful’s headrest.

“Go! Go! Go!” Sgt Muttley barked even as he threw the door open and sprinted back toward the Cruces’ home.

The SUV had skidded forward past three homes, which meant that the sergeant and Three-plates had a lot of ground to cover to reach the weasel-faced man.

Luckily for them, the bastard lost valuable seconds pulling up his pants.

Dastardly had already cocked her crossbow and taken aim.

A loud thwang reverberated through the night air.

The weasel-faced man was thrown into a stumbling spin by the bolt striking his shoulder. Somehow, he kept his feet.

Three-plates was faster than the sergeant. The young man had opened up a good lead. He roared, axe held high.

“Agony Bolt!”

Dark, ugly magic flew from the weasel-faced man’s outstretched hand.

Three-plates seized up and fell to the street, thrashing violently.

“Pain Is Strength!” The weasel-faced man shrieked.

“Charge!” Sgt. Muttley was within five yards. Well within the space where a melee fighter had the edge over a mage-type or ranged fighter.

The bulldog-like sergeant was a squat, dense ball of muscle. He plowed into the weasel-faced man.

To his shock the man didn’t fall.

The sergeant suddenly found himself wrestling with the rail-thin man. He grasped the handle of his Bowie knife and pulled it out of its sheath.

“Stronger than I look? All my life your kind made mine hell!” the weasel-faced man spat in Sgt. Muttley’s face. “It’s your turn now! Agony Touch!”

The sergeant roared dropping his knife.

The pain was world’s beyond anything he had ever experienced.

It went beyond the physical.

“My master found me worthy and strengthened my magic. Once your heart gives out, I’ll take care of that woman trying to aim her little crossbow,” the weasel-faced man sneered. “The Lindsay women left me unfulfilled. Your rangers should be made of sterner stuff, right?”

Sgt. Muttley tasted blood, but he refused to give in.

Never.

He’d fight to the end for his squad.

A chime in his head. A voice he could barely hear. Text he couldn’t read due to the pain. Still, he knew exactly what to do.

“Adrenaline Surge!”

The pain melted away.

Sgt. Muttley grabbed an over-under. His left arm went over the weasel-faced man’s right arm and pulled it tight to his body. His right arm went under the weasel-faced man’s left armpit and clamped tight.

The sergeant turned until the weasel-faced man’s back was to Dastardly.

“Drill him!”

Dastardly aimed her crossbow and fired a bolt into the weasel-faced man’s back, careful to avoid the sergeant’s arm around the lower back. The ranger pumped the lever which pulled the string back and dropped another bolt from the top-loading magazine.

Thwang.

The weasel-face man grunted in Sgt. Muttley’s face.

Five bolts in less than a few seconds found a home in the man’s back.

The weasel-faced man spat. “Not nearly enough. Pain strengthens me.”

The sergeant roared. He could feel the pain beginning to creep back into his body. He dipped his hips and lifted the weasel-faced man up. Magical strength didn’t always equal physical weight and the thin man was light.

Sergeant Muttley threw the weasel-faced man over his shoulder and slammed the bastard into the ground. He landed with all his considerable weight on the man’s chest.

The ground and the impact drove Dastardly’s bolts deep into the man’s body.

The weasel-faced man coughed blood.

Sgt. Muttley punched him in the face until all movement stopped.

Meanwhile, the rangers were rushing out of the SUV when the heavyset woman sat up and pointed.

“Fireball!”

What formed at her fingertip wasn’t the softball-sized fire that the rangers were used to. It was considerably larger. The size of a beach ball.

The rangers scattered away from the SUV.

Except for Useful, who was still in the driver’s seat.

“Mage Shield,” she got out just as the massive fireball hit the SUV.

The explosion threw the vehicle back end over end to come to a rest on its crumpled roof.

“GS! Get Useful out of there!” Hammers pulled Fin off the ground by his collar.

Flames licked all over the vehicle.

Fin could see that Useful was unconscious, held in place by her seat belt. Black smudges covered the woman’s face, but she wasn’t burned.

The heat kept Fin back.

Fire Resistance.

Fin’s fingers danced and twisted in from of his chest as he visualized the spell. Just as he was shown.

Space distorted over his chest as he felt magical energy flow from within, outward to his skin.

The heat vanished.

Fin pulled the door open and got to cutting Useful free before the magical flames reached the gas.

Loud cackling filled the air.

“Enhanced Body Skill. You barely hurt me with a truck. What do you think your puny weapons will achieve?” the heavyset woman laughed as she clambered up to her feet.

Swampbutt shrugged before opening up with his shotgun.

The woman covered her face with her arms as she was peppered with pellets.

Brighteyes and Hammers charged in from opposite sides.

“Agony Aura!”

Brighteyes and Hammers tumbled to the ground, bodies thrashing.

“My name is Beleth, I would rather spend days, weeks searing it into your minds, so that nothing will be left in your crazed thoughts, but me. Unfortunately, my master has greater prey in sight.”

“Shit!” Swampbutt frantically reloaded.

Beleth dropped the aura.

Brighteyes and Hammers gasped for breath.

“Agony Bolt.”

Swampbutt dropped his shotgun, all thoughts of fighting gone. Only pain beyond description remained.

“My next goal will be to cast spells while maintaining the aura spell,” Beleth muttered.

A hammer struck the heavyset woman in the head.

Hammer stood as he pulled another hammer from his belt.

“Really? You seek to fight me with tools. Agony Bolt,” Beleth pointed at Hammers.

The brawny ranger dropped.

“Bitch!” Brighteyes roared.

“Agony Aura.”

Mage Sight.

Fin saw the boundary of the heavyset woman’s magical aura. He dragged Useful away as the woman walked forward to envelope Swampbutt as well.

Beleth’s eyes narrowed. “You look… familiar.”

Fin lowered Useful to the ground and stepped away from her moving to the left toward the house on the corner opposite the Cruces’. His fingers contorted and space tore open in front of him.

Five glowing orbs streaked across the space and struck Beleth all over her body burning holes through her clothes and into her flesh.

Beleth hissed. “How did you do that? Why does magic beat inside your chest?”

Magic Missiles insufficient.

Beleth’s aura of pain pulsed.

Fin shuffled back to stay out of range.

“Interesting.”

“You’re going to pay for what you did to me!” Fin spat.

Calm. Clarity. Suggest elemental modification to previous spell.

Fin listened.

His fingers danced.

Red orange-tinged orbs emerged from the rent in front of his hands. The magic missiles trailed smoke as they unerringly struck Beleth again, setting her clothes on fire.

The heavyset woman frantically beat at the flames. “You combined spells? How!” she screeched. She raised a hand toward Fin, then choked. She coughed blood. She turned her head to see a dark shape looming over her.

It was Brighteyes with his machete buried in her back.

“How— my aura—”

Indeed, Brighteyes face was wracked with pain. His mouth was bloody from where he bit himself. “Enhanced Pain Resistance, bitch!” he spat. Then promptly toppled to the ground, writhing like Hammers further behind him.

Enemy distracted. Kill.

Fin followed the instructions.

A black bolt flew from the space in front of his hands. Darker than the blackest night, the magic projectile struck Beleth in the face.

The heavyset woman crumpled bonelessly to the ground.

Fin followed suit.

Mana expended. Protective measures engaged.

Fin didn’t see Brighteyes struggle to his feet and hack Beleth’s head off.

The woman was already dead, but it always paid to be sure. One never knew when it came to magic.

Hammers had fallen still.

Three-plates’ eyes stared up into the sky.

Brighteyes collapsed next to the headless body.

Sgt. Muttley couldn’t stand no matter how hard he tried.

Dastardly looked around. “Last woman standing then.” She regarded the Cruces’ home. The upstairs lights were off. The living room lights were on. She realized that she could hear screaming from inside. High-pitched. A woman? A child? She stepped toward the house.

A sudden explosion from within shattered the front window and sent glass shards flying like jagged missiles.

The Vitiator grabbed Rynnen around his pudgy, child’s torso.

“Wait… you said—”

“Cease your prattle, woman. Your first lesson. You have no choices, no control. I am your master and you are my slave.” The Vitiator’s voice sounded like music in sharp contrast to the menace he exuded.

“Please—”

“Ah, ah, ah. You persist.” The Vitiator turned and wagged an impossibly long finger at Cal’s mom. “Your little kin shall suffer,” he held the stone still Rynnen out in front of him.

“No! Don’t!”

The Vitiator spoke words of magic.

Rynnen screamed.

“Your children are always your weakest links. I find it amazing that this holds true across several worlds and species.” The Vitiator ceased his spell. Rynnen slumped over in his grip. “Yes… your human race is not unique. Did you think you were special? No. I know your kind on other worlds. Though they do not resemble the ones I have found here. Differences in skin tones, features and the combinations therein. Although, your world, though I have only seen a small portion of it holds a much greater diversity in human subtypes. More blending as well. You breed like mongrels,” he sneered. “Now, back to it shall we?” his eerily beautiful smile twisted into pure malevolence.

Two shimmering panes of force clamped down on the Vitiator's outstretched arm.

“What do you hope to accomplish? You may hold me in place, but you cannot stop my spell.”

Rynnen screamed again.

Cal’s mom rushed to the closet by the stairs, just a few feet away from where the Vitiator was torturing Rynnen. She pulled out an axe made of materials not found on Earth.

She roared as she brought it down, two-handed on the Vitiator’s arm.

Sparks flew as the blade bit into the Vitiator’s sleeve.

The cloth glimmered like metal for a moment as it held.

Cal’s mom was strong, not to the superhuman levels as the rest of her family, but certainly stronger than the world’s strongest men prior to the spires appearing. Not bad for a barely five-foot tall, petite grandmother.

The Vitiator hissed a curse as he dropped Rynnen to the floor.

Cal’s mom scooped the little boy up in one arm, while holding the axe threateningly towards the Vitiator.

“There are others.” The Vitiator turned and raised his free hand towards the children huddling near the television and fireplace. “Perhaps death by pain will teach you the lesson.”

An ugly-looking spell flew.

A beautiful, shimmering dome of many colors blocked it.

“These shields are interesting. I detect no magic, yet their strength rivals that of the most powerful mages and wizards. More versatile as well. You create different shapes and forms. I wonder… do you have limits?”

“I’m not even close. You can stand there until my husband and children return. Soon,” Cal’s mom lied.

“I was not entirely truthful earlier. Your world does have something unique… you and your family. Your abilities are not magical in nature, nor are they a result of Classes. Indeed, you do not have a Class, at least that I can see. If you do then it is something I have not come across.” The Vitiator smile was all malice, “Which is why I will cut the secrets out of your body!” he snarled.

Magic flashed from his trapped hand.

Fortune favored Cal’s mom.

The axe head blocked the brunt of the spell.

She fell back as pain wracked her body for an instant.

The momentary distraction caused her to lose her hold on her forcefields.

The Vitiator was freed. He lunged at her and Rynnen like a pouncing tiger.

Only to catch a burst of gunfire from the stairs.

The bullets sparked off the Vitiator’s tight-fitting clothing. It shimmered like metal, then resembled cloth in between eye blinks.

Rodrigo emptied his magazine to no effect.

The Vitiator stood tall, unharmed.

“You are an average representation of your kind. Not worth preserving,” the Vitiator raised a hand up to Rodrigo.

“Get out of my house!” Cal’s mom swept her hand across like slapping at a fly.

A wall of shimmering light appeared in front of the Vitiator and swept him out into the backyard with a loud crash along with what was left of the kitchen table and glass sliding doors.

Rodrigo fumbled the magazine as he tried to reload while running down the stairs. “We’ve got to go, Mrs. Cruces! The rangers brought a car. They’re taking care of those two mages—”

A loud explosion from outside rattled the house like an earthquake.

“Kids, hurry, come to me!” Cal’s mom tried to keep her voice calm.

The kids were crying and Rynnen was unconscious in her arms, limp.

Nothing about her was calm.

Where was her husband?

The alert should’ve gone out. Especially if the rangers knew that she and the children were in danger. They should’ve contacted him right away.

She came to the split-second conclusion that she was on her own. The Vitiator and the mages outside had something to do with Cal, Rayna and most of the rangers going north. They were here at her house because her children were occupied. It wasn’t a great leap of logic to think that her husband might’ve been also occupied.

She tore into the closet.

Cal had left her something to wear.

Just in case, he had said.

Cal’s Threnosh armor.

She hadn’t worn it because she didn’t want to scare the children. A foolish mistake she mentally kicked herself for. She tore off her clothes. She had worn the thin Threnosh onesie. The inner layer of the armor went on quickly. The plate pieces followed. The helmet was last.

Cal had made her practice.

Her oldest boy had been insistent.

Practice paid off.

It had take her less than thirty seconds.

The fit was surprisingly good, considering it was Cal’s and he was a lot bigger than her.

The inner layer had automatically shrunk a great deal to fit closer to her body.

Advanced alien technology was amazing.

It did feel heavy, but she hoped it’d keep her safe.

She was the only one that could keep the children safe from the Vitiator.

“Watch out!” Rodrigo shoved her out of the way.

His rifle barked.

The sound was deafening inside the house.

Cal’s mom placed the kids inside a dome-shaped forcefield and turned to face the Vitiator.

“You only delay the inevitable.” The Vitiator held Rodrigo over his head. The ranger was a big man, well over six feet tall and close to three hundred pounds. “Under the ideal situation I would see no issues with that. After all, pain and suffering are best when prolonged. However, you are right. I cannot tarry here overlong.” The Vitiator brought Rodrigo down on his knee.

The crack echoed through the Cruces’ living room like a gunshot.

The Vitiator tossed the young man aside like trash.