Softly first, then crescendoing like a swarm of doves taking flight, the sound of countless bells filled the plaza.
With the carillon of bells blasting their melodies into every corner of the burning ruins, lines upon lines of code drilled into my head.
As the divine tolling drove the Ferals into an almost rapturous frenzy, I felt Chris do their magic.
My ears were ringing, either from the cacophony of bells and screams and explosions, or from the massive headache that swelled with every word of code. It felt like my eyes were threatening to pop out of my skull. By the time I had gathered my wits, atop the ridge, the tide had turned.
Specifically, it had turned on me.
Enraged by my use of Logic, the Ferals disregarded Zephyro and the elf, and came pouring down the crater. They were a menagerie of malformed horrors, ranging from the now familiar spiders with metal legs, to wolves (cancerous, putrid), coyotes (gaseous, coughing, heckling), and buzzards (dead and rotting and trailing dark fire). There even were some more mythical creatures, such as living whirlwinds made of debris, swirling around a core that was a cluster of metal fans welded together by a madman.
Their numbers grew by the second. Their formation widened, seeping down from the rim of the crater-like superheated tar. One second, they occupied one-quarter of the circle around me, the next it was almost half.
Luckily, Zephyro and Shellslinger hadn’t been idle. They’d begun disengaging, and were making a fighting retreat to my position. Still, with the amount of Ferals swarming them, there was no way they’d make it in time.
In the end, you will be all alone Samantha…
Fuck you, Olre. I was not alone.
A brief back-fire of my anger slithered through my veins, and my jaw set. I had made my choice. Now there was nothing but to execute.
Willing the command prompt for Nexus into the forefront of my mind, I selected as many connections as I could.
In the blink of an eye, the entire crater was bathed in cyan glow, and my CPU readout spiked.
As I fell to my knees, shaking with sudden exhaustion, I saw bright blue lines falling like rain in slow motion, the wonder of their descent devouring all sound.
Then they hit the ground as one, and the world shook.
Dozens of portals sprung into existence. They took all sorts of shapes, from simple circles on the ground to doors made of starlight, and each of them let forth one of the Old Guard, their expression as varied as their way of arrival. Grim and grinning and glum and glad, it felt as though every emotion humanly possible showed on their faces as they took a split second to survey the battlefield, then immediately sprung into action.
I had to get up, had to get more Logic, had to advance my CPU, otherwise I’d be dead in the water. But my body betrayed me, every muscle screaming for energy that I just couldn’t muster. I wavered on my knees, upper body tilting to one side.
Then, just as I was about to fall, someone punched me on the shoulder and knocked me back straight.
“Ow!” I said, glaring up at the woman who’d hit me. She stared right back, unfazed. Then my body glowed, my exhaustion vanished, and my DPM shot back to full.
Before I could say another word, the woman grinned, grew wings, and shot into the sky, diving down into the fray wherever she was needed next, punching and kicking friend and foe alike.
I got to my feet a little too quickly, and a wave of lightheaded fatigue rushed over me, vision going black for a moment. But at least I could stand, now. Whatever the Old Guard had done, it definitely helped.
The sensation was a bit like when Zephyro had summoned his moon, and everything from running to thinking had just been a little bit easier, somehow. Yeah, very much the same, but more localized. That surplus of energy didn’t seep into my skin like moonlight, but came from within. As if that punch had activated some reserve I hadn’t known I had.
I took one hesitant step, then another. It was tough going, but at least I could move. Grimacing, I made my way over to where the fighting was the hardest, following an instinct I had honed even before arriving on Tobes, and later refined in a decade of war.
Always gotta be the hero, Sam. Why don’t you let people win on their own every once in a while?
I shook my head. Not another memory. Not now. I needed the Logic, needed… thinking was so hard. Hot and slow.
I panted every time my feet hit the uneven ground. Whatever the woman had done, it was fading, and fast. I was so close, though. I could see the Logic tumble out of cracked-open metal, pour from bloated corpses, and evaporate from gelled gasses.
As Shellslinger had said, the Old Guard took their cut, absorbing massive swathes of Logic every time they killed something, but always, something remained. Not just my cut. The Old Guard had formed a circle around me the center around the crater, and me, and it was obvious that they had the same limitations as I had when it came to absorbing the stuff.
Namely, range and strength of pull. I tried to command even a trickle to come to me, but with the legion of Ferals around us, I didn’t have a chance. The same apparently went for the Old Guard, who absorbed everything they could but were still forced to leave a large quantity to be recycled by the ravenous Feral swarm.
I needed to get closer.
So I pushed forward, putting one tired foot in front of the other. It felt like someone was pouring lead into my boots. Each second another kilogram.
I was about halfway there…
I stumbled and fell.
Strong arms caught me. I smelled oil and spices and felt chainmail against my cheek.
“I must offer you two thousand thousand apologies, Sultana. First, for touching you without your permission, which is a crime most grave, and then for not coming to your aid sooner.”
I squirmed, uncomfortable at the touch, but far too exhausted to care. “S’fine.” I said, slurring with exhaustion. He nodded, made sure I had regained my balance, and let hesitantly me go. Still, he hovered close.
“If you wanted, oh Sultana, we could try retreating to the Fortress?” Zephyro asked, but I shook my head, dismissing both his idea and the angry thoughts that tried to worm themselves into my head. He did not think I was a coward. He wasn’t trying to control me. He cared, and he was afraid for my sake.
I kept repeating that truth like a mantra as I fought to formulate my response.
“I won’t hide behind walls while other people fight my fights.” It sounded less brash than I had feared, but the words still cut deep, and seemed to have hit a sore spot within the Vizier.
“Sorry,” I said, putting all the sincerity I could muster into the word. I frowned, my thoughts trudging through the quicksand of my mind as I tried to recover. “I mean, would you abandon your people like that, if you were me?”
To his credit, he shook his head without missing a beat. “No, Sultana.”
I didn’t say, ‘That’s because you are the leader I want to be.’
I didn’t know why.
So instead, I said: “Then come on, help me get to the front. I’ve got a Blessing to reclaim.”