Mana Soul: Chapter 66 - The Assassins - Mark and Markus

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Markus took the news with far greater grace than Mark had expected. Instead of losing his temper or freaking out, Markus remained quiet and simply nodded his head.

“Is she planning a double-cross?” Markus asked quietly before smirking wryly at himself, “Is she planning on betraying the firm, I mean.”

“We don’t know,” Mark admitted somewhat reluctantly.

“Yet!” Gregory interjected hastily, “B-But there are others as well. I know them. Most have flawless records but were less selective of the contracts they accepted.”

Markus frowned slightly, “They...We are assassins,” he stated flatly, “How much moral high ground can be found in such a profession?”

Ninety percent of the moral ambiguity maintained by the profession was from the understanding that the majority of contracted targets were objectively bad people who deserved it. However, Markus had reviewed Mark’s memories and had firsthand accounts from their mother that the overwhelming majority of targets were not, in fact, ‘bad people’. They were simply agitators or champions of a cause at odds with a particularly involved deity or their schemes.

“Most of the contractors who have accepted the contract have come out of retirement,” Gregory explained slowly, “I can’t be certain, but I believe that some of them are being coerced. Ashida, at the very least, was something of a rogue before his retirement. Swore off of the business after...after becoming attached to a local...his intended target...” Gregory removed his glasses with trembling hands and cleaned the lenses with a kerchief before replacing them on his face, “He accepted the return ticket back to Earth and killed the woman responsible. Ashida refused all attempts at communication after the fact-”

“Until now,” Markus pointed out curiously.

“Until now,” Gregory agreed, “Make no mistake, Ashida was a coldblooded killer before going rogue, and held an impeccable record, which is profoundly rare for the Artificer archetypes. But I think The Firm has critically underestimated the degree to which he holds them responsible. His vengeance ended with the contractor because The Firm was outside of his reach-”

“But we can provide access,” Mark interrupted with some degree of surprise.

“Indeed,” Gregory agreed shakily as his complexion paled, “We-” He nodded his head toward Peabody who was grinning from ear to ear, “-have managed to lock onto The Firm’s offices and are confident that a two way portal could be maintained for at least a full minute before the safeguards of the facility would need to be dealt with. However, we are also confident that an adjusted mana draining artifice would be sufficient to render the majority of countermeasures ineffective. Only, it would be best to hold such an artifice in reserve.”

Markus looked confused for a moment before rallying, “You want to attack The Firm’s office?” He asked with a small smile.

Gregory and Peabody nodded in unison, “Yes,” Gregory replied sincerely, “There are good people, people who could provide valuable intelligence on the Tiamites. They are still most likely being held in the building while it undergoes the formal decommissioning process.”

“Like your nephew,” Markus noted without malice or condemnation.

“Like my nephew,” Gregory agreed with mounting worry, “But there are others as well,” he added hastily, no doubt wanting to remind everyone that his motivations were not purely determined by nepotism.

Markus nodded but seemed somewhat distracted.

Still unable to read his thoughts, Mark had to patiently wait to hear what Markus was thinking.

“Is it possible to open more contracts?” Markus asked after a short silence.

Gregory seemed confused, but peabody’s grin grew wider, “Yes, Creator, it is. However, we will require access to the central reserves in The Firm’s vaults. Or a willing deity to serve as a donor.”

Markus frowned at the last, “Why aren’t the gods fighting back? The Tiamites are already skirting the rules and are on the verge of victory. If there was ever a time to flip the fucking game board, it would be now.”

Mark understood Markus’s reasoning and knew Markus already knew the answer.

“Self interest,” Peabody stated confidently drawing all eyes to itself, “So long as the slimmest chance of retaining their power exists, the remaining deities will continue to hesitate and hope that the fortunes of war will shift to their favour. Those who have lost the faith, so to speak, have already turned traitor to their own cause, selling out their peers and worshipers in return for promises of clemency.”

“It’s true,” Gregory agreed quietly.

“Of course it is,” Markus stated with disdain, clenching his fists and arching his neck as a maelstrom of thoughts and memories flooded through his mind, “But why don’t deities of lost worlds band together and wipe out the Tiamites?!”

Aela took hold of Markus’s arm and whispered something into his ear.

Markus calmed somewhat but was not deterred.

“They cannot, Creator,” Peabody answered confidently and turned to Gregory, “Would you care to explain?”

Gregory paled and hurriedly wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead, “I, uh, yes, I suppose I must,” he agreed, “Each deity’s power is bound to their respective territories. To surrender that territory or break the ancient pacts would cripple them. A deity can only unleash their strength against another deity, and Tiamat only moves against her rivals once they are suitably weakened by her children, the godspawn.”

“The gods have children? And they can fight without breaking the pacts?” It was the first Mark had heard of it and he found it rather unsettling.

Gregory shifted uncomfortably, “Producing progeny comes at a great cost and normally any deity that makes the attempt is weakened considerably...However, Tiamat has had many years to gather her strength and...and has taken advantage of those who sought her favour...”

“She used traitors to take the brunt of the costs?” Mark guessed.

“We believe so, yes,” Gregory replied quietly, “Tiamat’s godspawn are not as powerful as true gods, but they are not fully bound by the pacts either. The gods can’t fight the godspawn at their full strength, but the godspawn aren’t nearly strong enough to defeat the gods in turn. However, the godspawn are strong enough to bleed the gods' strength in preparation for Tiamat’s arrival.”

“So the deities from that Gaelic world are still fighting?” Markus asked warily.

“Yes, Creator,” Peabody replied before Gregory had a chance to do so, “However, in this instance they are fighting in the understanding that they are buying time.”

Markus frowned, “Why?”

“They have placed their hope in you, Creator,” Peabody replied brightly, “They cannot assist us through more direct means, but they can delay the godspawn and allow our forces to fortify and prepare for the long war ahead.”

Gregory nodded solemnly in agreement, “There is, of course, a certain degree of selfishness to their actions as well, but I think it is understandable in the circumstances. Unlike the other gods before them, they still have worshipers feeding them power, and thanks to your efforts they are currently hidden from their enemies. They have a chance at resurgence, albeit a slim one.”

“Markus could always let other people migrate to their world by using portals,” Aela added somewhat hesitantly, “Right?”

“Unfortunately it is more complicated than that, Mistress,” Peabody shook its head, “The gods do not feed off of worship so much as their worshipers themselves. The worshipers of the gods are marked in early infancy and generate tiny amounts of special mana that sustains and empowers their gods. The Tiamites use the dungeons to scour as many worshipers from a planet as possible in order to cut off the gods' means of engaging in protracted conflict or recovering from potential pyrrhic victories.”

Markus frowned and furrowed his brow.

Mark was surprised to find that he was more thoughtful than angry at the latest revelation. He was about to consider how best to ask when Markus’s attention drifted toward the door.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Markus muttered quietly as he opened the door and disappeared into the waiting room.

Mark was about to follow behind him to see what he was up to, but stopped when he realised Markus was no longer blocking him. Gingerly shifting his perception into Markus’s senses, Mark half expected Markus to cast him out again. However, to his immense surprise, Mark found that Markus seemed to be inviting him to join him instead.

Markus was staring at the pregnant woman from earlier, or at least that is what Mark assumed to be happening until he felt Markus’s consciousness make active contact with his own.

Markus asked, his thoughts lacking Mark’s fluidity and grace but conveying a certain degree of excitement.

Mark tried to squint but failed due to Markus’s complete control over their body.

Mark replied uncertainly.

Mark’s vision shifted through several unfamiliar spectrums before settling back into the visible light spectrum. For the briefest moment Mark caught a glimpse of a faint aura around the pregnant woman's head and shoulders.

Markus repeated with mounting excitement.

Mark replied in shock, now understanding the cause for Markus’s excitement.

Markus replied while slowly shifting through visual spectrums.

Mark suggested, glad that he could elect to ignore Markus’s mounting nausea.

Just as Mark suggested, Markus began cycling through visual spectrums with each eye independently of one another.

“Markus, what are you doing?” Aela asked quietly, “Are you alright? You look ill.”

“Just trying to figure something out,” Markus replied quietly while wavering slightly on the spot.

Mark asked with mounting curiosity.

Markus paused his efforts and shifted his vision back to normal. Markus’s thoughts were somewhat scattered, most likely distracted by the accumulated nausea Mark had elected to ignore.

Skimming Markus’s thoughts, Mark realised the cause for Markus’s fears. If the aura was the divine mana or some sort of precursor for its creation, then tampering with it would not be a good idea. However, if they could find a way to collect it and transport it, the deities masquerading as faeries from Irish folklore on the otherwise doomed planet might be able to put up a fight for that much longer.

Markus approached the young pregnant woman, “When you were marked for the gods as a child, what did the clergy do?”

The religious rites of the locals were something of a mystery to them, so Mark was forced to admit that asking a native might give them some hints toward looking in the right direction.

“Uh, er, I think it was the same as everyone else?” The young woman replied meekly.

Mark felt Markus will himself into a state of calm.

“Sorry, I was a little overexcited and should have been more specific,” Markus apologised, “What exactly do the clergy do when they marked someone as a follower and believer?”

“Oh,” the pregnant woman’s blush faded somewhat, “I think they draw lines on your forehead with holy oils? I haven’t seen it done myself though...” She apologised.

“That’s quite alright,” Markus reassured her, “Would you mind if I took a closer look at your forehead? I just want to see if there are any lingering traces of the oils they used,” he lied.

Given his own curiosity, Mark supported the white lie, confident that he would have done the same if he had been in Markus’s place.

“Um...I suppose it is alright?” The young woman agreed hesitantly.

“Thank you,” Markus smiled and withdrew his smart-phone simulacrum from his pocket and hovered it over the woman’s forehead while gradually shifting through the visual spectrums again.

It only took a few moments for Markus to home in on trace amounts of unidentified golden mana in the bone of the woman’s forehead.

“I will have Peabody provide you with a bonus for your assistance, thank you again,” Markus smiled as he turned away and reviewed a still image on his tablet.

Mark was impressed.

The traces of mana were so faint that Mark could barely make out the five golden dots marking the centre of her forehead.

“Nothing more than livestock...” Markus muttered quietly with disgust and disappointment before shifting trains of thought toward possible means of extracting and copying the marking methods.

The simplest solution for designing a means of copying the marking process would be to seek out a clergyman and press them for answers. But Mark was very aware of Markus’s aversion to established contemporary authority figures. It was one of the biggest differences between them.

Mark felt a flash of irritation from Markus and took it as a sign that his thoughts were unwelcome and unproductive.

Mark suggested instead of backing down.

Markus paused, “Ask them for the method?” He slowly nodded his head, “Yes, I will need to speak with them at some point anyway...”

“Meet who?” Aela asked quietly.

“Hrm? Oh, the royals from that other place,” Markus replied with deliberate vagueness.

Aela glanced toward the young woman and nodded in understanding.

“Ah, Markus?” Gregory asked quietly while standing in the doorway to Peabody’s office, “The contractors will be arriving soon. Would you prefer to-”

“I want to meet her in person,” Markus replied abruptly, “I...would rather have it settled sooner rather than later...If she is going to try and kill me, I want it done with.”

“You’re sure?” Aela asked with justifiable concern.

Markus nodded, “Delaying won’t change anything, and...” His thoughts clouded, alternating between thoughts of violence, rejection, a fleeting moment of hope, and death, “And I need to do this so I can focus on the future.”

“Okay,” Aela agreed supportively, “So we go home for our armour, some weapons, and your shadows, then we deal with this.”

Markus nodded in agreement.

After returning to the castle with Gregory and Peabody in tow, Markus and Aela donned their armour and weapons while a golem escort formed outside.

“You don’t have to do this,” Hector rumbled, “Others can confront them on your behalf.”

Rather than dismissing or silencing the golem, Markus gave Hector his undivided attention while he considered alternative courses of action.

Mark found this somewhat surprising since Markus held no particular emotional connection toward Hector. The golem was his guardian, nothing more. The fact that Hector contained Mark’s memories and impressions of the original Hector, his father, was a non-factor for Markus. Or at least, that is what Mark had assumed.

However, the more Mark concentrated on reading Markus’s thoughts and emotions, the more he realised Markus was actively making an effort to establish the connection.

“I’m sorry, but I need to do this...” Markus replied with genuine regret, “If she is going to reject me...I want her to do it to my face.” He looked at Leona with a determined yet conflicted expression of foreboding.

“Whatever you decide, I will support you,” Hector placed a reassuring hand on Markus’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.

Markus gave Hector a small smile in return before donning his helmet and concealing his face.

Mark decided to leave behind his proxy body. There would already be a small army of golems in attendance, so he figured it would make little difference if a fight was actually going to break out.

Existing as consciousness inside of someone else's head had certain advantages. The most prominent of which was experiencing Markus’s full range of senses. Not having control over the initiation of those sensations took getting used to. However, when compared against the soul obliterating state of extended sensory deprivation, it was a paradise of experiences.

Even the slight pinch of the chinstrap to Markus’s helmet was far preferable to feeling nothing at all.

Then there was the rush of sensations everytime Markus met eyes with Aela. A thousand minor movements and actions all within less than a single second. A shortness of breath, flushing of the cheeks, and tingles that ran down his spine.

Mark regretted not pursuing a relationship while he was still alive and had full control over a corporeal form. Experiencing life vicariously through Markus was infinitely better than the alternatives, but there was no true privacy between them and likely never would be. No matter how much Mark concentrated on ignoring Markus’s thoughts, he was unerringly drawn to them like a moth to the flame.

Therein lay the danger.

Just as surely as sensory deprivation would destroy him, Mark was fully aware that indulging in Markus’s senses was like willfully wading into quicksand. The more Mark revelled in sensation and experience, the more his thoughts aligned with Markus’s own, the more difficult Mark found it to separate himself.

As he had hoped, they were very gradually combining into a single consciousness. Mark could accelerate the process but he felt that doing so would likely make Markus unstable. Resisting the integration would be just as damaging. A balance needed to be maintained so Markus could adjust.

In a sense, Mark knew that the integration represented his death, but there was more to it than that. Markus was becoming a reflection of them both, taking on Mark’s attachments where they did not conflict with his core values and personality. Essentially, Mark would become a part of Markus over time.

Lena and Akane insisted on joining them, and despite Markus’s protests, he finally relented. Stopping Lena would have required the use of force, and Markus had been completely unwilling to take that step.

Besides, the contractors were already on their way toward Arngier. Lena was technically safest amidst the hundred golem security detail than in the castle.

The core party loaded into an armoured wagon while the remaining golems made their own way through the town in small groups to avoid inciting a panic.

“Do you know what you are going to say to her?” Lena asked, surprising almost everyone when she directed the question squarely at Hector.

There was an awkward silence and Mark was beginning to wonder if he should say something to change the subject.

Hector turned his attention to Markus, “Do you remember why Brida was so hard on you? Training you until your bones would break beneath the strain?”

“Survival at any cost,” Leona answered before Markus had a chance to consider a reply, “Push through the pain so you can make it home again.”

Markus’s hand trembled.

To Mark’s intense surprise, he realised that he had been the one responsible for the movement despite Markus’s being in control.

“Survival at any cost,” Hector repeated with sadness and regret, “So you would always be able to return home again. So that even after we were gone, you would have the tools and drive to survive...”

Lena’s face was hidden behind her borrowed helmet, so there was no telling what her expression might be. “Is that why you were always training him so hard?” Lena asked quietly.

“He did not have your mother’s gifts,” Hector replied in a subdued tone of voice, “We believed that extreme lengths would be necessary to give him a fighting chance. Martial Adepts, Warriors, like you and your mother, can afford to make mistakes. Otherwise fatal blows can be negated with minimal loss or risk. He was not so fortunate.”

Lena slowly and silently nodded.

Aela squeezed Markus’s gloved hand supportively and Markus squeezed her hand back.

The remainder of the journey passed in silence.

The hundred strong security detail had caught them up without difficulty.

Crossing the defensive channel took almost no time at all, although it earned curious looks from the soldiers stationed atop the defensive wall. Several Knights offered to join the procession but were denied. For better or worse, Markus was determined to keep events somewhat private and secret.

Markus’s intentions proved largely irrelevant when a ragged band of strangers appeared in the distant treeline. Close to forty or fifty in number, the strangers' modified but otherwise modern tactical armour and firearms immediately outed them as Earthlings. With no doubt that they were the contractors Markus had set out to find, the armoured wagon continued along the trade road toward the forest.

By the time the armoured wagon reached the forest, a full third of the contractors had migrated to flank either side of the road while the remainder spread themselves out within ready access of the cover the trees provided them.

A large man with a kevlar face mask stood in the middle of the road ahead of the armoured wagon. Resting a thick machete against his neck with his left hand, the large man held a large barrelled gun in his right hand with impressive ease in spite of its size. Levelling the gun at the armoured wagon, the man made it abundantly clear that he had nothing but hostile intentions.

“Oi!” The large man called out arrogantly, “You fuckers work for the young upstart right?!”

“Has to be!” One of the other contractors called out from cover, “No one goes running around with that many guards unless they are important!”

The large man turned his head to face the armoured wagon again and collapsed as his head evaporated in a crimson mist.

Two other contractors collapsed a heartbeat later and a trio of incredibly powerful gunshots echoed through the forest.

As one, several contractors with machetes and assault rifles immediately rushed the armoured wagon, emptying their magazines as they closed the distance with impossible speed.

The golems closed ranks the moment the contractors initiated their charge, blocking bullets with their enchanted armour and shields.

The golem manning the repeating ballista mounted on the roof of the armoured wagon ignored the charging contractors and targeted the contractors that were taking cover in the forest.

One of the charging contractors lost his footing as a high calibre round materialised in his leg. Already under the influence of a durability power, the contractor was back up and on his feet in moments.

Torrents of fire and ice washed over the golems, but they gave no ground and maintained their close-knit formation.

Great arcs of electricity washed over the armoured wagon without effect, accomplishing nothing besides restoring the small amount of mana lost from maintaining the protection enchantments.

As the machete wielding contractors closed the final stretch, the golems began moving into action.

Soaking the contractors remaining bullets, the golems intercepted the machete wielding contractors by tackling them bodily to the ground. While one golem held a contractor down, a second began raining blows down on the contractor’s head with a mace or gauntleted fist.

“MEDIC! MEDURGH-” The contractor’s cries for help were interrupted as a golem took hold of his lower jaw and began to pull.

More elemental attacks washed over the armoured wagon, temporarily obstructing the battlefield from view.

The carriage rocked slightly as a boulder the size of a horse slammed into the front left wheel.

“Capture that one!” Markus ordered, despite not knowing who was responsible, “I need that one alive!”

“Indeed, Creator, acquiring the specialty of an earth Mage will prove quite beneficial!” Peabody agreed as he made his way toward the door, “I shall see to it myself!” The golem disembarked and began slowly making his way into the forest.

To their credit, the contractors considered Peabody as much of a threat as any of the other golems. Unfortunately for them, despite Peabody’s rotund belly jiggling and wobbling from the force of the bullets, they accomplished no more damage than those that struc the armoured golems.

“I have a lock on Brida!” Gregory announced shortly afterward, drawing all eyes in his direction, “She is holding a position to our southeast along with two other contractors. They appear to be engaging the other contractors. Should...Should we intervene?” Gregory asked uncertainly, warily eyeing Markus after briefly glancing toward Lena.

“Of course!” Lena demanded, “She’s the entire reason we are here!”

Gregory continued looking to Markus for permission.

The golems would do nothing without it.

Markus slowly nodded his head, “We will provide them cover with the wagon, but they are not allowed inside.”

Without needing to be told, the golem driver brought the armoured wagon into motion. Continuing down the road, bullets clattered against the outside of the wagon. However, as the wagon neared its objective and moved offroad, the intensity of incoming fire decreased dramatically.

With so many trees between them, the contractors were no longer able to unload magazines of ammunition willy nilly and expect a guaranteed hit.

One of the contractors, a short slim man holding a pistol, broke from cover and leapt up onto the small steps just outside of the door. Unlike the other two contractors still taking cover in the trees, he made no signs of intending to rejoin the fight.

Both of the remaining contractors, broke from cover shortly afterward, using the solid cover provided by the wagon instead.

The larger of the remaining contractors then shouldered a beast of a sniper rifle and continued engaging the other contractors.

“That’s her, isn’t it?” Markus asked over their communicators.

Mark confirmed somewhat hesitantly, unsure of how Markus would react.

“Ah, yes,” Gregory confirmed a few moments later, “Brida is the one carrying the large calibre projectile weapon, and the man taking cover behind the door is Ashida...I’m not certain who he is though...” He pointed to the third contractor who was still taking cover behind the trees.

As if on cue, the contractor Gregory identified as Ashida began frantically waving to the last contractor, signalling for them to make their approach to the wagon as well.

Ducking out of cover, the final contractor sprinted across the short expanse of open ground and accepted Ashida’s waiting hand to awkwardly take cover behind the door. Ceding the handhold afforded by the door handle to the newcomer, Ashida hopped off the steps and briskly skirted the wagon.

Drawing two daggers from his belt, Ashida cast them into the air and quickly brought his hands together while strangely clasping his fingers.

The two daggers descended toward the ground were arrested abruptly before they sped off into the forest.

Following the path of the daggers, Mark was astounded as they homed in on the other contractors while following the motions of Ashida’s arms and hands.

“Wind specialisation,” Markus muttered, shifting his vision so he could see the ambient mana swirling around the carriage.

“It is one of Ashida’s specialties,” Gregory explained, “The other is-” He fell silent as torrents of blue-white flames roared to life and set the forest ablaze.

“The earth Mage has been acquired, Creator,” Peabody announced through Markus’s earpiece, “I also witnessed two potential turncoats who terminated several other contractors. They are insisting that they have made a deal with Ashida. How should I proceed?”

Markus turned to look at Ashida through the window, “I’ll send more golems to escort you and the prisoner. Assume the other two intend to betray us.”

“As you command,” Peabody replied.

“What do you know about this?” Markus asked while looking to Gregory for answers.

“Nothing,” Gregory replied with an expression of mild confusion, “It is strange enough that Ashida appears to have turned traitor. I can only assume that Brida has orchestrated some sort of alliance to guarantee her daught-your sister’s survival.”

“Which means they aren’t necessarily on our side at all,” Markus stated with a scowl.

“She probably doesn’t know the full situation,” Lena insisted weakly, “How would anyone know that you are gearing up for an intergalactic war? Let alone that you might stand a chance of actually winning or eking out a stalemate.”

Markus turned his attention toward their mother and said nothing.

The fighting outside the wagon intensified as the first wave of golems moved on to new targets. Without Warriors to maintain a frontline, the golems moved amongst the remaining hostile contractors with impunity.

Amidst the chaos, Peabody returned to the wagon with an unconscious contractor in his arms and two more contractors carefully following behind him.

One of the contractors was a large broad shouldered man, but the second contractor looked short and lanky enough to be a teenager.

The echoing rattle of gunshots began dying down as the last of the hostile contractors succumbed to the golems’ assault.

Given orders to strip the contractors bodies and dispose of their remains, the golems obeyed without complaint. Gathering the contractors bodies first, the golems organised the bodies into neat rows before stripping them down to their underclothes. All of the equipment was deposited in the spare ammunition chests from on top of the wagon, and the bodies were disposed of by temporarily releasing a hungry slime.

The surviving contractors, with the exception of the earth Mage who was lashed to the roof of the wagon like luggage, had gathered into an uneasy group a short distance from the wagon. It was obvious that they trusted one another as much as Mark and Markus trusted them.

With the exception of his mother, Mark was tempted to to push Markus back toward his initial intentions of wiping the contractors out. For the sake of acquiring their combat experience, Markus would be taking on a considerable degree of risk. Not so much for himself, but for the regular men and women around him.

“So...Are we going to just sit here all day?” Lena asked with nervous anticipation, “Or are we going to go outside and say hello?”

Markus clenched his fists, sighed, and nodded, “Let’s go.”

Hector and Leona exited the wagon first, standing watch by both side exits while Gregory, Lena and Akane disembarked from the door closest to the contractors, and Markus and Aela disembarked from the opposite side.

“Mom?” Lena called out tentatively from the other side of the wagon.

“Lena!” Brida called out in a complicated combination of worry, relief and surprise.

There was the clattering sound of armour as the pair embraced one another.

“Are you okay?” Aela asked quietly, once more taking a firm reassuring hld of his hand, “We can get back in the wagon and leave if you want to. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Markus made no reply beyond squeezing her hand in return. His mind was a mess. In stark contrast to his stoic outward appearance, Markus’s mind was a maelstrom of conflicting emotions and ideas. Half formed possibilities played out how he would be rejected, disowned, ignored or killed. The negative thoughts and emotions swelled and increased in intensity and frequency as each second passed.

“Where...Where is he?” The words cut through the storm and immediately seized Markus’s full attention, dragging Mark along with him. Far from the affectionate tone reserved for Lena, barring a slight degree of hesitation, Brida’s tone was painfully neutral.

Markus bowed his head. However, instead of remaining where he was, as Mark had expected him to do, Markus slowly moved forward.

Aela quickly fell into step alongside him, holding Markus’s right hand tightly as Hector flanked him on his left side.

All eyes focused on Markus as cleared the front of the wagon.

The contractors had all removed their helmets and face masks, and so had Akane and Lena, but Markus’s focus was limited to their mother alone.

Tall, especially for a woman, she had a balanced build that maximised her flexibility while affording as much strength as possible. Her once rich dark red hair was lighter with thick streaks of grey, but her bright green eyes were as sharp as ever, matching the aged angular features of her face.

Sparing only a momentary glance at Aela, Brida’s emerald green eyes stared at Markus with an intensity and focus that gave her a predatory hawk-like visage.

Unstrapping his helmet one handed, Markus removed his helmet and matched Brida’s gaze.

Several emotions warred across Brida’s face as she clenched her fists and continued to stare at Markus. “You aren’t him...” She croaked in disappointment as tears began welling in the corners of her eyes.

Markus’s attention shifted to the ground as he released his focus and mentally retreated. Hiding like a wounded animal, Markus’s conciousness continued retreating until it struck emotional bedrock.

“Markus,” Aela pulled on his hand but found him unresponsive. Trembling with anger, she turned on Brida with her serrated teeth bared, “Are you satisfied?!” Aela demanded, “After all the pain and suffering he has gone through?!” She tore off her helmet and Glared at Brida with unbridled hatred, “After everything he has done for your family! This is how you treat him?! You don’t deserve Markus! None of you do!”

Lena winced.

“Markus?” Brida croaked in confusion.

“It’s...It’s complicated,” Gregory interjected nervously, “Your son, he was tortured...extensively, while breaking free of his captors...Mark attempted to imprint his soul onto one of his enemies. However, due to a multitude of factors, the attempt went awry.” He spent close to a half hour detailing Markus’s exploits and achievements before carefully explaining Mark’s presence inside of Markus.

“Mark is still alive?...” Brida asked with conflicting hope and scepticism.

Lena nodded emphatically, “He’s still in there,” she confirmed, “But you can just ignore Markus! He’s as much your son as Mark is! You have no right to dismiss him!”

Brida frowned slightly but said nothing.

Mark tentatively attempted to take the reins and was surprised when Markus allowed it without any form of challenge or resistance. His fears had been proven true and he wanted nothing more to do with any of it.

“I’m still here,” Mark confirmed while glaring at his mother, “But if you can’t accept Markus, then I want nothing to do with you.”

Brida staggered back a step as if Mark had struck her.

“Mark?” Lena gasped in surprise but quickly took control over her emotions, glaring at their mother in solidarity, “He’s right! If you can’t accept Markus then I don’t want anything to do with you either! Markus is the one that made all of this possible!”

“Short of attacking him, you are behaving exactly like he expected you to,” Mark stated with profound disappointment, “After everything he has done!” He pulled his hand free of Aela’s grasp and stalked toward his mother, “After everything you did to us! He-” Mark jabbed his finger into his chest, “-was still willing to give you a chance! For me! You have no idea how little control I have in this relationship! If he wanted, Markus could lock me up forever! He could rip my consciousness apart or leave me isolated until I succumb to dementia! But he has chosen to share his very being instead! Can you even comprehend how impossibly vulnerable Markus has made himself for my sake?! And for yours...” Mark slowly backed away and shook his head,”We haven’t seen each other in the better part of a decade, and after everything that’s happened, what did you really expect? Is Lena the same girl from your memories? Let me answer that for you, she isn’t. Dad’s death and your leaving changed EVERYTHING!”

Brida glared defiantly back at him, but remained silent until Mark was finished, “Are you done?” She asked quietly.

Mark gave her an ugly scowl in reply.

“You’re right,” Brida stated tersely, “I did expect things to remain the same, it’s what kept me going while I was fighting for my life in a disease infested jungle. When I...When I heard that you had died, I thought that Lena was all I would have left...”

Lena’s expression softened somewhat, “Just try to see things from his point of view and treat him like a person. This is how things are now, so it’s this or nothing.”

Brida looked away and nodded, “I understand...” She grunted, “Whenever I want to speak with...to talk to my son, I might have to go through him first-”

“You don’t understand anything!” Mark hissed, “I have a month, maybe two! Then I’m gone!” He snapped irritably before quickly wishing he hadn’t. “Lena, I'm sorry...I was going to tell you...”

Lena slowly shook her head, “You already did, remember? It’s just taking longer than we thought it would.”

Mark tried to give her a reassuring smile, “It’s not all bad, it seems like it won’t be as one sided as I thought it would be,” he winced slightly and looked at Aela, “Sorry, I only noticed recently, but I don’t think you will find much of a difference...He and I are already more like than I first realised.”

“It’s fine,” Aela stated confidently, “I already made peace with it.”

Mark snorted softly and looked back toward his mother and the other contractors, “Gregory seems to think that you all might be convinced to change sides, but I have my doubts,” Mark stated coldly, “Some of you might try to argue that attacking your comrades is proof enough of your dedication,” Mark’s scowl deepened, “Don’t patronise me. You are assassins for hire. Your loyalty began and ended with the contract you signed with The Firm. All of this can be considered nothing more than elaborate theatre, so far as I am concerned.”

“This fucking joker?” The large man swore with a cackle.

“He is right,” the contractor Gregory had identified as Ashida stated neutrally, “So, how will we prove our shift in loyalties?” He asked with deliberate care.

“We must be proving ourselves?” Another one of the contractors, the one who had taken cover with Ashida behind the wagon, asked in a mildly insulted and central european accent.

“Yes,” Ashida replied bluntly, “Do not tell me that you have not noticed the danger we are in Hans?”

The other contractor, Hans, was silent for a few moments as he looked around, “Oh my god!” Hans exclaimed in surprise, very nearly losing his footing as he stumbled away from the closest of the golems.

“What’s got you shitting your knickers?” The big contractor snickered.

“The soldiers surrounding us are all automatons,” Ashida replied before Hans had a chance.

“Automa-what?” The contractor scoffed while posturing in the direction of a nearby golem.

“Robots! Mister Sammy!” Hans stated excitedly, “They are all robots!”

“It’s Sam or Samuel!” The large contractor, Sam, corrected aggressively before becoming visibly unsettled, “But hey, you’re sure? I saw them move earlier, no way they are all robots.”

“Well...Not traditional robots, but functionally? Yes, they are very much robots,” Hans insisted, “Do you not see how they are not breathing?”

There was a lengthy pause.

“Fuck me sideways...” Sam muttered after closely examining one of the golems, “And I saw that one there tackle Broderick like it was nothin!” There was a faint hint of panic in his voice as he pointed to another one of the golems, “Takin’out a Mage I could understand, but Broderick was a hard motherfucker.”

“All Martial Adepts are weakened by a lack of oxygen,” Leona stated contemptuously, earning a disbelieving stare from Brida.

“It’s complicated,” Lena whispered apologetically, “We can talk about it later.”

“What must we do to prove our loyalty?” Ashida asked directly, “You must have a task in mind if you were willing to risk a meeting with us in spite of your misgivings.”

“I do,” Mark agreed and waved his hand toward Gregory and Peabody, “I want you to break into The Firm, rescue everyone on Gregory’s list, and then burn the place to the ground after stealing everything of value.”

“Is that all?” One of the other contractors scoffed incredulously.

“Silence!” Ashida hissed angrily before turning back toward Mark, “You have the means to allow us access?” He asked in a carefully measured tone.

“I do,” Mark replied confidently.

“Then we shall do this,” Ashida stated as a matter of fact.

“Take any of the other contractors equipment you think you might need,” Mark offered motioning over to the pile of collected equipment.

Without further questions, but with varying degrees of suryless, the contractors all made their way over to the pile of gear and began rummaging for anything they thought they might need.

“I will go with them,” Gregory insisted as he made his own may toward the pile, “Otherwise they won’t know where to go.”

“Go,” Mark agreed, “But leave any of our enchanted gear behind. We don’t want to risk any of it falling into the enemy’s hands.”

“Ah, of course,” Gregory agreed, quickly strpping his communication device and a few articles of jewellery, “Can’t be too careful.”

Peabody began setting up the portable portal while Lena quietly talked things over with their mother. Mark could tell that the subject had changed somewhat when Lena waved over Leona and Hector.

After a short planning session, Gregory and the contractors, with the exception of his mother, passed through a portal into what looked like a public washroom. After the final contractor passed through the portal, Gregory shrunk it down to a couple of inches in diameter.

Without warning, Mark lost control as Markus’s consciousness reasserted itself. Markus wasn’t rough about it, he just hadn’t noticed Mark was in the driver's seat.

“Things seem...better?” Markus muttered hopefully.

“They are,” it took Mark a few moments to realise what he had done.

“You spoke,” Markus announced curiously, “Without me needing to step aside?”

“I think so?” Mark felt a thrill pulse through his being as he realised what was happening. The integration was not entirely one sided, he had known that already. However, he had not expected that he would gain any degree of physical control.

“Markus?” Aela asked warily, searching his eyes for signs of who knew what.

“Yes,” Markus shook their head, “But Mark is here too, it’s...strange?” They smirked and shook their head again.

“Weird?” Mark suggested a few moments later.

Aela frowned slightly, “I couldn’t see the switch that time,” she muttered thoughtfully, “This is expected?”

“Yes,” Mark replied before Markus had a chance to even consider the question, “Assuming neither of us force it, and we shouldn’t, our separate consciousnesses should become indistinguishable from one another in a couple of months at the most. The initial melding process just seems to be taking longer than I initially anticipated.”

“You are becoming a part of Markus, or?...” Aela let the question linger.

“We are becoming each other,” Mark replied quickly, “But Markus already has the dominant position, so you aren’t wrong either.”

“That’s right,” Markus agreed while nodding their head.

“Besides, even if I wanted to change Markus’s opinions or feelings about you, I wouldn’t be able to,” Mark added, smirking slightly as Markus became flustered, “He cares too much about you. You are the centre of his world.”

Aela’s eyes widened slightly and she looked pleasantly surprised, “Really?” She leaned in close and stared at them with her beautiful crocodilian eyes.

“Really really,” Mark replied while blushing slightly, “I, uh, well, like I said, the melding goes both ways...” While the fact Mark had been single his entire adult life was no doubt a factor, it had become obvious that Markus’s own affections for Aela were rather quickly becoming his own. If he and Markus were not slowly becoming the same person, that influence over his mind would have troubled Mark.

Aela pressed her lips against theirs for a moment, her teeth gently pressing against his skin before she leaned back for a moment, “I-” Aela’s expression grew troubled, and she shoved them back. Bending over at the waist, Aela retched.

“Aela?!” Markus cried out, moving their body to support her while trying to see what might be wrong with her.

“I’m...Uff...Fine...” Aela groaned before dry heaving again, “It’s...It’s probably the smell-bleurg!” A stream of bile spattered over Aela’s lips and splashed against the ground.

“No you are not fine!” Markus growled, “We need to get you back home so we can figure out what is wrong with you!” Mark could feel his panic and had to fight against joining him.

“Fret not Creator,” Peabody called out cheerily from his post beside the portal, “All is well.”

“What in the abyss are you talking about?!” Markus snapped.

“The queasiness may feel most distressing, but it will pass,” Peabody insisted and motioned toward the windscreen of the armoured wagon, “The condition of the mistress is well in hand.”

“Condition?” They turned their head to look at the windshield, as a thousand different potential illnesses passed through both their minds, they settled on the familiar looking image displayed on the surface of the crystal. Their heart skipped a beat.

“What is it?” Lena asked worriedly while moving closer to take a look.

Aela retched again and spat at the ground.

“Aela...She...I mean we...” Mark and Markus tripped over one another as they tried to process and explain what they had seen, “Aela’s pregnant! We are going to have a baby!”

Aela’s eyes grew wide as she froze in surprise, “Wh-What?! Really?!” Still breathing heavily she smiled from ear to ear and pulled them into a fierce embrace, “We are having a baby!” Aela declared excitedly.

Ignoring their bruised flesh, Mark and Markus stared back at Aela with single minded devotion, grinning like a madman. They were having a baby, and there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do to protect it. Even if it meant challenging a literal god.