🦾Edison🦾

Earlier, a pang of jealousy struck Edison’s robotic heart when he watched his teammates leap off the flying saucer, down to Earth, “Damn that looks like so much fun!” he told the empty command room.

But then his smarty phone beeped and the jealousy was forgotten.

Frantically scrambling for his phone, a huge, metallic grin spread across his face when he saw the screen, “My space WiFi is back! Awesome!”

Being offline for a few hours had given him enough time to accumulate energy points in all of his gacha games, meaning he now had some serious work to do! Turning away from the screen monitoring his teammates, he leaned back into his chair and rested his feet up on the desk. Music played directly into his ears through his inbuilt wireless earphones as he got started.

The outside world seemed to disappear as he put his heart and soul into his games, collecting gems, tapping the screen, and navigating through countless loot boxes. His left earphone tuned into a podcast, where three Smarties talked about how they decided to make a podcast together. His right ear and the bottom right corner of his screen opened to a video of a Smarty-tuber commenting on another video of a different Smarty-tuber playing a video game that neither Edison nor the original Smarty-tuber had ever played before.

With that, Edison's mind entered 'the zone'! Time faded as he became fully absorbed in his smarty phone. Dopamine hit after dopamine hit, nothing could stop him now! Nothing except; an impact slamming into the bottom of the flying saucer, setting the whole room wobbling.

“Whoa, what was that?” Edison blinked, lowering his feet to the floor and grabbing onto the table for stability.

Edison's mind exited 'the zone'.

He looked at the clock on his smarty phone. An icy dread filled his stomach as he became aware of how much time he had spent not doing what he was supposed to be doing. He twirled his chair around to the screen that was monitoring his teammates. The blood drained from the biological parts of his face. Several notifications lit up the screen, “Oh crap, Einstein is gonna kill me!” he murmured.

Warning!

Crewmate: Fred has taken severe damage to his suit.

Say: [Help] to Activate Battlesuit retrieval via drone.

Say: [Email] to send a space email to crewmate: Fred’s family, informing them of his imminent death.

Say: [Mercy] to mercy kill crewmate.

Help→

Email→

Mercy→

Alert!

Scanning complete! Four (4) positive targets for fish magic have been confirmed.

Say: [Capture] to Initiate capture procedure.

Say: [Kill] to Kill targets via laser.

Say: [Torture] to Torture targets via laser.

Capture→

Kill→

Torture→

Warning!

Crewmate: Einstein is Missing In Action

Say: [Locate] to Scan last known location.

Say: [Scour] to Scour all life in last known location via laser.

Say: [Celebrate] to Play celebratory music.

Locate→

Scour→

Celebrate→

Warning!

Ship has been attacked and has received zero (0) percent damage.

Say: [Counter] to Return fire

Say: [Repair] to Repair damage

Say: [Suicide] to Self destruct

Counter→

Repair→

Suicide→

Warning!

Crewmate: Fred’s battle suit is offline.

Crewmate’s Status: Alive.

No longer able to safely retrieve via medical drone.

Say: [Land] to Land ship on top of crewmate.

Say: [Mark] to Mark crewmate’s location.

Say: [Record] to Make a video recording of crewmate’s inevitable death.

Land→

Mark→

Record→

Yep, she is definitely gonna kill me. Who made these awesome menus though? Edison wondered as he read through everything, “Ok, I can fix this. It says Fred can’t be picked up by drones anymore so I'll have to go down and get him myself. Computer, email his family!”

Affirmative.

“Good, now capture the fish magic targets, locate Einstein, repair the ship, I guess, Oh, and mark Fred’s location.”

Affirmative.

Affirmative.

Affirmative.

Affirmative.

“Nice! I need to get ready," Edison said, standing, "Computer, prepare an epic music playlist. Have it ready by the time I depart!”

You got it!

😡Ingrid😡

Hate. Hate hate hate. Ingrid’s feeling’s about most people could be summed up in that perfect four-letter word. But when it came to one individual in particular, it just wasn’t enough. Towards Tomas, she felt loathing? unrivalled spite? endless fury? No word was ever quite enough.

It made her feel sick to her stomach in rage, every time he smiled, spoke politely, and enjoyed the company of others. Who did he think he was being so cheerful? How dare he be so trusting? Why did he deserve special attention from the Matriarch?

That’s what it really all came down to, The Matriarch’s affection. Ingrid was forever grateful to the church for taking her in but secretly hated almost every member. The reason for her gratitude was simple, it was only by joining the church that Ingrid was able to meet the most beautiful, unstoppable, killing machine in all creation.

The church’s leader made Ingrid’s heart flutter every time she walked by. When Ingrid slept at night, she dreamed of transforming into a great hunter and tearing apart weak, helpless creatures alongside the Matriarch. A silly, unrealistic dream; the Matriarch was one-of-a-kind after all. But all the same, Ingrid woke up every day with a heart full of love and an unrivalled drive to commit grievous acts of violence upon the church’s enemies. She would do anything to help the Matriarch take over the world.

Imagine her displeasure then, when she discovered he had gained a supernatural power similar to that of the Matriarch. Imagine how doubly awful it felt when that senile, old, coot, the head priest, ordered her to oversee Tomas’ training in his new powers. The whole situation made her so mad that she wanted to explode.

The only saving grace was that at the end of it all, Tomas was supposed to die. The Matriarch was supposed to eat him up and grow even more magnificent. It was hard work. Looking after Tomas had tested her faith to its limits. Constant jealousy and constant patience took their toll on Ingrid. Now, when she slept at night, she no longer dreamed of the Matriarch; she only dreamed of hurting Tomas.

But she persevered and the day came when Tomas was to be sacrificed. Ingrid even got front-row seats for the show!

The horror of that day… Ingrid just couldn’t… it was... Look, the less said about that day, the better.

Suffice to say, Tomas had clearly made a pact with the devil. Or perhaps he was actually the devil himself all along? Either way, Ingrid would never forgive him for what he did to the Matriarch.

The head priest could see how serious Ingrid was and wisely put her on the black ops team dispatched to some hick town nearby where they had to wait for Tomas to appear. This was another test of her faith. For two weeks there was no sign of him and she hated her teammates. Before she lost her mind and killed them all, Tomas thankfully appeared. The order was very clear that Tomas was brought back alive but they didn’t specify how alive he needed to be. Ooooooo she was gonna hurt him so bad.

The horror of that day… Ingrid just couldn’t… it was... Look, the less said about that day, the better.

Suffice to say, Ingrid had been right. Tomas had indeed been replaced by the devil who was now parading around in his skin and doing wicked things.

There was quite a lot of evidence supporting this fact: For starters, the way he dressed had become outright indecent. No sane human would dress like that. Then there was the way he fought. He moved with more grace and confidence than Ingrid knew him capable of. She had overseen his training after all. Not once did he use his power during the fight, he simply hadn’t needed to.

The most compelling evidence of demonic possession, however, was the way he spoke. Now, Ingrid wasn’t afraid of a little name-calling, but the rancid horror that spewed out of Tomas’ mouth was fricken unnatural. His words hurt more than being stabbed through the chest with a rusty knife. With what sounded like a drunken murmur, Tomas somehow forced Ingrid to recall all of her childhood trauma; She remembered when a boy she liked in primary school called her ugly, when her dad farted on the sofa next to her, and when her goldfish died. It was too much. She went berserk.

The events from then on were blurry. Tears streaked her face, the black ops team got their butts handed to them, Captain Wolfe’s eye was flung into her face; bits of it got into her mouth. She vividly recalled a strange mix of fury and arousal guiding her actions as she tazed the hell out of Tomas, and then it all went dark.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up in the back of an ambulance with a splitting headache and the aftertaste of eyeball juice still on her tongue. A lot of people were making noise nearby. Sensing movement in the corner of her eye, her hand whipped out and grabbed the wrist of the infidel who had foolishly entered her personal space. She recognised him as one of the junior members of the church.

“What are you doing?” Ingrid demanded, squeezing his wrist tightly.

The startled junior let out a cry of pain, “Miss Ingrid, ma’am, I was just removing your handcuffs. Please let go, ma’am. You're hurting me,”

Ingrid squeezed a little tighter before letting go. Something slammed into the side of the ambulance outside, “What’s happening?” she asked.

Rubbing his wrist, the man said, “It’s a disaster, the head priest is dead! I didn’t know what to do so I’ve been searching for someone to help but… Captain Wolfe is blind, Poindexter is on a ventilator, and The Frenchman is incoherent. He keeps mumbling about giants and refuses to leave the ambulance he’s in. There are enemies everywhere and no one to lead us. ”

That was a lot to process. The head priest being dead was huge. She hated the old coot but couldn’t deny his importance. Then there was her team. She hated them also, but they were invaluable in a fight. Furthermore, should anything ever happen to the head priest, Captain Wolfe was next in line to lead. Without both of them, who was supposed to take over to lead the Church next?

Who indeed?

Ingrid shook her head. There were enemies outside. Who, where, why? Actually, it didn’t matter, she hated them already. They would have to be dealt with. And dealing with enemies was something Ingrid excelled in.

So with that in mind, she got up out of her stretcher, holding her head to stop the world from spinning. She looked down at the pathetic man who had woken her and told him in a cold tone, “We’ll discuss why you chose to wake me last after the others later. Come, we have enemies to crush.”

She threw open the doors of the ambulance and stepped out onto the battlefield. This is where she would claim her place as the new head priestess of the Church of the Wolf.

💪Ricky💪

People all around him fought with reckless abandonment for their own safety. They screamed, growled and threw themselves at one another. Many ended up kicking and standing on Ricky unintentionally, well most did it unintentionally, just because he was laying in the middle of the crowd, in the way. However, the pain he felt from their kicks was nothing compared to the pain his own soul was inflicting on him. That pain was so great that he could only curl up, protect his head with his arms, and cry.

Glass shattered, and explosions rang out all around him. Someone threw a tear gas canister into the crowd. Screams were replaced with coughs and gagging. The whole street shook, as something heavy dropped from the sky.

After several minutes passed, the pain subsided and Ricky’s soul began to stabilise. He would live for now, but Ricky knew another soul attack was coming, then another and they would eventually kill him. Not before he finished his mission he vowed. The tear gas had dispersed the crowd around him enough to allow him to pick himself back up and limp back to the fight.

He saw the Matriarch in the distance. She looked even more messed up than Ricky felt. He saw her tripping over her own feet, leaving a trail of blood behind her as she made her way forward, leaning on vehicles for support.

"Perrrfect," Ricky growled as he raised the laser pistol he had miraculously kept hold of and aimed it in her direction.

Just before he could squeeze the trigger, a woman jumped on his back. His shot went wide, “Leave the Matriarch alone!” the woman screamed while punching Ricky in the back of the head.

Ricky threw her off and looked down at his attacker. It was another familiar face. A violent maniac he had met on countless battlefields in his previous life. A malicious smile grew on his face, “Well if it isn’t ‘Ingrid, the Butcher’. I was hoping I’d get to see you.”

Ingrid screamed from the ground, “Matriarch! Tomas is nearby! Get him!”

Ricky dropped down and punched Ingrid in the face to shut her up, "Wait. Tomas?" He exclaimed, eyes going wide when he realised what she had just said. He spun back towards the Matriarch, catching sight of her limping behind a police van towards Madame Wanda’s, looking determined.

His eyes spun over to Wanda's shop, where he saw Wanda standing out front with the guy he had spotted inside earlier.

The blood drained from Ricky's face, "Oh No!" he murmured, gripping the laser pistol tight, he hesitated; thinking could he risk shooting with Wanda standing so close? He decided not, and instead broke into a sprint towards them. Tears of panic rolled down his face; from the fear that he wasn't going to make it in time.

Now he remembered where he’d seen that guy with Wanda before. That man was none other than, 'Tomas, the sacrifice’! An important face from the history books. After being sacrificed, it was his power that had transformed the Matriarch into the unstoppable beast Ricky remembered her as. And now The Matriarch was almost right upon him!

Please, goddess, don't let it end like this, Ricky prayer. Protect Wanda. Protect Tomas. Just for a moment; I'm coming!

🐺The Matriarch🐺

She hurt all over, those lasers had really done a number on her. Limping and stumbling, she reached out and used anything she could lean on for support. Smelling the air, she kept moving forward. Tomas was close now. She rounded some police vehicles and sure enough, there he was, standing on the sidewalk.

The Matriarch almost tripped upon seeing him; he was dressed in awful, mismatched clothes instead of his usual church robes, his left hand was missing from the wrist up, and strangest of all he was smoking! Tomas didn’t smoke! It was bad for his health! What on Earth had happened to him? She could overhear a conversation he was having with a dangerous-looking woman.

“Hey, you know that booze from the jar I drank earlier? Can I get some more?”

“No.”

“Bugger… You said that robot flew through the pub’s window right? Reckon I can get a drink there?”

“No.”

“Bugger. Oh, look at that guy! Haha, all his teeth got knocked out!”

Tomas’ brilliant smile lit up while he enjoyed the violence happening on the street. That's not the kind of thing the sweet, peaceful boy she knew would enjoy. Something was definitely up with him. Was that woman standing with him to blame? She was also smoking. Just Who was she?

The Matriarch stumbled closer towards the two, finally getting noticed. They both grew very tense at the sight of her. Tomas pulled out a stick with a hook on it from his ridiculous pants and held it towards her. A challenge? The Matriarch crouched down, preparing to fight when Tomas suddenly called out to her, "Not another step you pubic hair covered mutt. You leave me ‘n Wanda out of it.”

The Matriarch froze, What?! What did he just call me?!

Tomas kept going, “I’m having the worst bloody day. I'm just out here to enjoy a smoke and watch the show. Get back to your fight, ugly. You keep coming this way and I'm gonna tear your guts out and play around with your intestines like a kitten with a string. I'll punch my hand so far up your butt that I'll be able to control your mouth like a sock puppet. You hear me? Get back!”

What?!

She couldn’t believe the filth that was coming out of Tomas’ mouth! She opened and closed her mouth a few times to say something but nothing came out. No one spoke to her like that! She was the Matriarch! Why was he being so rude? Who the heck is Wanda?! Was she Tomas' girlfriend?! Why hadn't she been introduced?!

Finally, her fury boiled over and for the first time in ages the Matriarch spoke, "How dare you speak to your mother like that?!?!?!"

Anyone within hearing range felt their survival instincts kick into overdrive as they warned them of the danger the Matriarch represented. Besides Tomas, the woman named Wanda Screamed and ran inside.

But not Tomas. He stood firm and looked her straight in the eyes, then spoke; one Apex predator to another, "You. are. not. my. mother." Venom practically dripped from his tongue with each word.

The Matriarch's heart shattered into pieces. He was right. How dare she call herself his mother when she had planned to do such a horrible thing to him? Look at what’s become of him! She should have spent more time with him growing up, and been more nurturing. Most of all, she probably should have never agreed to eat him. The power and feeling of responsibility to her church had gotten to her. What would Tomas’ father say if he were alive to see her now?

Tomas' words gave her the ultimate reality check. She didn’t deserve to be called the Matriarch. She hadn’t earned the right. Guilt choked her throat. She raised her head to the sky and howled in sorrow, vowing to the moon to improve from that day forth.