Sci Fi & Fantasy / Majitsu/Mechanica (5 3/3)

They leave Nina’s unconscious body outside. And as soon as Jordan and Wendy pass through the narrow opening, the heavy door slides shut behind them with a reverberating bang. At the moment they’re greeted by a mocking, sarcastic tone.

“Oh look, Silvia, it’s a dead person.”

The interior of the factory is illuminated only by the moonbeams that stream in through the upper floor windows, casting the metal framework shadows on the bare floor. A thick lattice of cross beams, pipes and supporting struts crisscross throughout the upper levels of the factory, and rusted columns hold up the stacked floors which run along walls of the building like doughnut rings.

The voice is coming down at them from one of the upper floors, and, as Jordan looks for the source, a shadow drops to the ground, shifts and disappears, leaving a man in it’s place. It’s too dark to see his expression clearly, but his voice is saturated with gloating.

“Maybe you really are invincible. I thought for sure that you went ‘boom’ with your experiment, Alice.”

The sound of her true name makes her blood freeze in anxiety. More than anything, she wants to glance over at Jordan to gauge his reaction, but she’s afraid of what his expression may hold.

That anxiety comes out as irritation when she replies. “I’m not here to chat, Loren. Where’s the girl?”

A pulse of tension and hostility. It’s apparent that her inquiry is not to the man’s liking. “Don’t ask questions that you already know the answer to.”

Jordan loses patience. No, he was out of patience as soon as this man had appeared, but that answer made his frustration boil over. “Don’t fuck with me! Where is she!? I swear, if you did anything, I‘m gonna--”

“What are you saying? Don’t you understand what’s going on here?” This time it’s not intangible, that pulse of tension is really pressing down on Jordan, pressuring his body. The force of millions of volts of magic swirling within that man is enough to heat the air around him. “That girl was a meddler, sticking her nose in things that were none of her business. We can’t risk the Lodge learning about this…”

From the ground at his feet, that shadow gushes up, and out of it, a small grey cell phone slides across the factory floor as if thrown. He continues. “This beast consumes a person completely. Soul and all. However, I’m not such an evil person to consume the souls of innocent people. Rest assured, I only took her body.”

“Loren.” Wendy interrupts, her voice far too calm and cool, considering what was just said. “This boy isn’t one of us. He’s not twisted enough to see the mercy in your brand of kindness.”

Jordan’s rage boils over, but before his body can even move, Wendy halts him by sticking out her arm.

“Stop. You’re too pure to understand. Moreover, do you want to die? What can you accomplish by hurling yourself at that beast?”

Wendy’s sharp rebuke stuns him into inaction. The sheer absurdity is paralyzing him. Isn’t she supposed to be on his side? Didn’t Wendy come to save Nina too?

With that same maddeningly calm air, Wendy resumes their conversation. “So what are you guys planning? Oh, and I know you’re hiding up there, Silvia.”

In response, on the third floor, a girl steps into the path of a moonbeam, replying with a velvet voice. “Nothing’s changed, the elusive goal remains.”

Finally, Wendy shows some emotion. Her brow furrows in disgust, and she clicks her tongue in irritation. “Wasn’t my failure enough? Eden can’t be reached with our means.”

“You only failed because you attempted to enter the garden that God had already sealed. Of course that angel would come out…I’m surprised that you’re even alive, Number 36.” She talks down to Wendy, mocking her obvious stupidity.

What? That answer is grease for Jordan’s locked mind, and the wheels begin turning again. She’s not denying it. She’s not denying it. She’s not denying it! Furthermore, she shows no remorse for bringing down the same fate suffered by Sodom and Gomorra on a city of millions.

“So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life” --Genesis 3:24

Even Jordan knows that entrance to such a place is impossible. There’s no way that Wendy could have been unaware of the danger…

Wendy’s tone gets hot. “Oh? I’d like to hear how I erred, Ms. Seventy-Five”

“Your first mistake,” Silvia replies, “...was attempting to enter the garden in the first place. That sword will always come out, and nothing can possibly stand up to it. Even Area 51 was obliterated instantly. Let me be clear: Eden is unreachable. I’ve long since given up on it. Instead, I’ve turned my efforts towards creating one of my own.”

There’s a loud snort as Wendy’s laughter slips out. “I’m sorry, oh please, do go on.”

“I see that the ignorant will always mock what they can’t understand. I trust that even you know why humans were expelled from that paradise in the first place--Man ate from the tree of good and evil, and due to that, the entire world has devolved to it’s poisoned state.
But, there were two trees in that garden, the tree of life, and the tree of knowledge. In fact, you can say that the presence of those two trees defined the garden as far as we humans are concerned--the presence of both created free will. The world is this way because of the spirit of the tree of knowledge, all that remains is the return of the tree of life, and humanity can once again be given the choice.”

Wendy‘s laughter is silenced, and shocked realization comes over her. “Don’t tell me--”

“Yes. This network of infected humans is feeding the necessary power to create the tree of life in this day and age.” The mental masturbation is highly apparent in Silvia’s voice, nothing pleases her more than her own genius.

“No matter how much you gather, you’ll never be able to create a means to immortality. That’s even more foolish of a pursuit than the original goal.”

“You’re so stupid, big sis. Who said it has to be a perfect tree? As long as I can imitate it well enough, the world will recognize the concept, and give up the tree of knowledge that exists in the sin of all men. And with both trees, an imitation of the garden, which was defined by the presence of the two trees, will appear.”

“Are you serious?” The older sister takes on a grim tone, and shrugs in disappointment at Silvia’s ignorance. “You don‘t seem to understand what the garden really is. It has nothing to do with that bible story.”

With disgust, she glances down at the cell phone that lies cracked and dented on the dusty floor amid a grid of moon-cast shadows. “The fact that you’re killing people for such a foolish plan…”

System start.

“…I can‘t stand it.”

Like two artillery shells colliding head-on, like a missile intercepting other at high speed, the deafening crack is the only evidence of the two unstoppable forces opposing each other in a clash faster than the speed of perception. Both footholds, both launch pads, both former positions are dug up, gouged out of the ground as chunks of concrete splash up under the heaviest force that reduces the floor’s viscosity to that of cheesecake.

A ten blows pass in an instant. The man surrounded by an impermeable shadow shroud is forced to retreat from the fatal red blur that refuses to give space. A dust storm whips up as enormous momentum is pivoted on a single point, a stomp digs into the concrete, and, in a whirlwind of red, Wendy’s finishing punch slams into the left side of his chest.

A dent. The blow that should have collapsed Loren’s lung is stopped short by the hardness of tempered steel. That shadow had whipped up at the last second, and concentrated on the point of impact to shield its master from the fatal attack. Then, as if the shock of her punch is trigger, the amorphous being expands, tripling it’s area, and clamps down on her arm like a Venus flytrap.

For an instant, her face, illuminated by the moonbeams from above, is contorted into absolute terror as the shadow engulf her arm up to the shoulder.

Application protocol: Connected

Jordan’s brain is stabbed. Something invades his mind. An intruder bursts through the firewall of his consciousness.

Quantum Bandwidth Connection (QBC)
Transfer speed: 314Tbps (Terabytes per second)

“Hadoken.exe!” The spell is cast. The seal is broken. The Program is initialized. No time passes between the utterance of her incantation and the effect. As if a shotgun is fired into a vat of jelly, the immaterial blob convulses and expands as if it’s just swallowed a detonating bomb, and, with explosive impulse, Loren and his beast impact a nearby concrete pillar which cracks under the force.

Wendy’s maroon jacket is unblemished, and the arm that should have been consumed remains attached to it’s owner. Of course. That’s no mere article of clothing, that is her and Jordan’s special brand of magic--Command Line.

Magic is orderly. Magic has rules. These two beliefs are central to this magic. The execution of magic is nothing but taking your reality and imposing it on the world. That is limited--if something doesn’t make any sense, how can it be called a reality? Likewise, the more it clashes with the reality of the world, the more current is needed to maintain it’s existence in the world. Something that disregards the concepts of the universe completely will not work, only manipulation of what is already there is allowed.

Temperature, visibility, gravity…all of these can be recorded and measured. A oceanographer can measure the salt content in water, a geologist can measure the weight of a sample, when consistent values are attached to the world, the recording of the state of the world is called the gathering of information. In that case, substitution of reality must be consistent with that consistency.

Simply put, it is their belief that magic is merely the manipulation of information. And all the spells and sorcery of the past is consistent with common heuristics that are the underlying pins of all magic. Common does not mean simple. Because the processor is different for everyone, these underlying patterns are unique to every mage. But for those who do notice, the path to the creation of more efficient magic is made much easier.

And what is more efficient for information processing than a program?

Perhaps it’s because of their contract, or their love, but this couple is something that should not exist--two mages with the same operating system. That makes their magic possible, because, for her supply of voltage, Jordan is the source. His modest current is split, transferred to her like the peer-to-peer system of a file sharing program. And that unblemished, invincible jacket? That is application software. “Status Armor” ver. 1.1.8.

“How scary. I thought you’d understand.” Despite the blood leaking from the corners of his mouth, Loren speaks calmly through his gasps as he detaches himself from being embedded the concrete pillar. “Or rather, I didn’t expect such blatant hypocrisy. After erasing a city from the face of the earth, and…” His eyes flick to Jordan. “…what you’ve done to that boy, you’re going to chastise me for killing a few?”

Wendy flicks her hair dismissively, “I guess,” Her tone lowers, turning into dangerous warning. “…I simply hate those similar to me.”

“I see.” Loren snaps his fingers, and the shadow erupts, gushing upward like a geyser. “Self-hatred is the strongest type of hostility. It consumes reason, the ability to love, and eventually the soul itself. I cannot say anything to offset your self-destruction…” All of the ejected blackness that was flung into the air, converges, compresses and lands in a heap in front of him.

“--I can only hasten your eventual end…” The heap twists, and morphs, becoming more defined.

“--Come forth, Nameless.”

It can only be described as a phantom. This unworldly beast stands 9 feet tall in a shape that barely resembles a man, with long, thick arms that drag their knuckles on the floor, and no head. No longer is it merely a shadow--in it’s black body stars and galaxies can be seen. It’s possible that this creature has infinite depth, and contains an entire universe within itself.

“I’m impressed, Loren.” Wendy leans her head back, surveying the beast. Then, like a bolt of lighting, the red whirlwind charges forth, and impacts the opposing universe at top speed, smashing the beast’s arm into pieces. As the images of galaxies splash up around the impact point, and Wendy‘s speed slows down to what is perceivable again, she taunts, “But, even for you, wielding a deity is too much. That’s just a cheap imitation. Not even worthy of Natsume.”

“How unwise, you’ll oppose it without your greatest weapon? As Loren replies, the monster’s arm regenerates. And the fight begins in earnest.
*******************

There are too many things that he doesn’t understand. Wendy’s connection with these people, her role in the Frozen Lightning Incident, the reason why Nina was killed…

The list is endless, but Jordan knows for certain that he cannot stand here and let Nina fight that thing alone. There’s a time for everything, and he knows that now’s not the time to stand around like an idiot.

Guingir.exe

Jordan spreads his feet, bracing himself against the blast of air and shockwave of his reality displacing the reason of the world. As the bow of light extends from the back of his left hand, he’s being hit by a gust of wind similar the jet wash of an airplane, and once it’s completely summoned, the air cracks with a deafening sonic boom. It’s not a physical bow, it doesn‘t even have a string. It’s appearance is as if lines of blue light were merely drawn on the air in an imitation of the shape.

In his mind’s eye, the spell is cast. There’s no need for an incantation because the bow itself is a spell given physical form. The unworldly bow takes on an arrow of light, and its concept bends, it deforms till it can be no longer reconciled with reality…and snaps back, firing the supersonic projectile.

It’s deflected. As if an artillery shell simply bounced off of an enemy, as if someone simply swatted an incoming comet with a flick of the wrist, this arrow that can only fly straight is redirected at a seventy degree angle upwards and shatters the thick, dustily glass of the windows on the third floor. The dust whips up around the winner of that contest of vectors, but her hair blowing back is the only indication that this immovable person was even affected by the force of the clash.

“That’s not really fair, shooting people in the back.” Silvia taunts. The pale moonlight finally gives Jordan good look at her. She’s young, around his age, but that’s not the most surprising thing. She looks like Wendy. Her hair is longer, and tied back in a ponytail, but there’s no denying that it’s close. “No doubt you’re my sister’s pet, that was quite an attack.”

“Sisters?”

Silvia waves her hand dismissively. “Let’s just say that we have the same circumstances, there‘s nothing more to it than a label.”

As she speaks, the fight is still underway behind her, and he sees Wendy’s small body flung up through the rusted pipe work and two floors of the factory like a pinball, with that beast jumping up after her.

Jordan raises his bow, warning her. “Move.”

Despite the weapon pointed at her, her tone remains playful. “How rude. I just want to harass you for a bit…” In front of her, a fairly large magic circle appears, suspended in mid-air, perpendicular to the ground, and it’s hot white lines illuminate the darkened factory as it rotates slowly.

A Magic circle is a spell book, as well as being a spell path. The complex, miniature leylines are actually a projection of the mage’s soul on reality. The intricate runes, patters, and images are actually the representation of their knowledge of magic, written in the language of their soul. For a mage, the size of this circle is an indication of the magnitude of their mastery--essentially, among their kind, it’s a penis contest of who has the biggest circle.

“--Ragnarok.” When Silvia invokes it’s name, the path to the selected spell is highlighted, the gate to that area of the soul is opened, and just that section of the circle is activated. What comes out of her heart is an overwhelming surge of power, a bombardment of ice at supersonic speed.

Execute. Jordan does not flinch away from the incoming missile.

Two high speed projectiles, Ice and arrow, collide at hypersonic relative-speeds. Their many sonic booms are visible conic shockwaves as the air compresses so greatly that light is bent through it. Every single window on the first floor is blown outward shattered under the very sound of this horrific impact.

“Hm?” The girl cocks her head, amused. “You’re not even intimidated by the size of this circle?”

“Not really. You barely have the firepower of three mages.” Jordan retorts, not giving any hint of anxiety in his voice despite the fact that the power of three mages is far more than enough to obliterate him. “Wendy‘s stronger.”

Silvia’s expression hardens. The boy has just said something that he should not. “Fool. You think I’d use my full power against such an insignificant ant!”

More sonic booms echo through the factory, as Silvia bears down on him with the firepower of several tanks, and Jordan opposes her with the full extent of his power.

Virtual RAM clock speed: 9747.3 Tetra-Gigahertz

It’s taking every ounce of his concentration to keep from getting skewered by the torrent of ice shards. He has no shield--he doesn’t know magic that advanced, and, most likely, any defense would crumble under the might of her attack. All he can do is intercept each supersonic projectile with one of his own.

“You seem to be struggling a bit, boy.” Silvia’s hair is blown back by the pulses of compressed air that reverberate from each hypersonic impact. Her gleaming white teeth glint in the moonlight as her lips curl up into a feral grin.

Jordan can see all of her movements. His over-clocked mind is like a high-speed camera, pushing the frame rate of his perception faster than the speed of speed. The concept bow on his left hand burns his skin with its constant vibration as it materializes and fires off rounds faster than a humming bird can beat it’s wings. This fight is as if two people with Gatling-guns fired at each other, and intercepted each bullet mid-flight. The cost of that hyper-concentration is a narrower range of perception. Jordan can no longer see what’s happing in Wendy’s fight; if he thinks about anything else for even the briefest moment, his head will be split wide open by the incoming storm of supersonic icicles.

“Oh you’re cute. Talking so big before…” The storm stops. Silvia stops shooting, and his projectiles are stopped short by the activation of her defensive magic. Her invisible shield becomes visible only under the force of impact and her taunting is only audible because he stops shooting the instant he realizes the futility of it--he doesn’t have magic to waste on something hopeless.

“...Still, you’re nothing but big sis’s battery. A wand. I wonder how much you can take.” As she speaks, numerous smaller magic circles appear, orbiting the large one.

There’s no time to consider the obvious inconsistency of Silvia having more than one magic circle--all the portals activate, and the gale of ice surges at him like a horizontal rain. A quick glance tells him that there are over twenty of those guns. With just one bow, Jordan can’t hope to defend against that attack, no weapon is fast enough to bridge such a numerical gap…

Wasp application.

Sixteen more bows of light appear behind him, floating, pointed at the incoming wall of ice. He maxes out his processing and opposes the force of over twenty circles with merely seventeen bows. It’s not a power-up. If the single bow is a high pressure water hose, the seventeen bow array is lawn sprinkler--he’s sacrificing exit pressure for quantity of exit points, spreading his magic thin.

But, he can’t afford to do that. That maelstrom of hypersonic destruction nearly reaches him as he severely underestimates the force of each incoming bullet. Foolishly, Jordan had assumed that, like him, her power output will always have the same net value, and that each bullet had a force inversely proportional to the number of bullets fired. But he was incorrect. The power per bullet is not diminished, in fact, the net power output is even higher than before.

In order to counter, he has to increase the pressure on each sprinkler opening to be just as high as pressure on the hose. But, he only has a finite amount of water. His magic reserves will run out in no time at this rate, and, against supersonic projectiles, it doesn’t matter if he tries to run away or not, since his fastest sprint is merely a crawl in comparison. He has to stand and just shoot, shoot like his life depends on it, because it does.

If Silvia’s network of infected humans is like a botnet, then this magic is like a Distributed Denial of Service (DDoS) attack. A DDoS, in layman’s terms, is using a network of infected computers to flood a website. It’s deadly because the nature of the internet is parallel--there aren’t complex calculations, just a lot of simple ones. If a normal desktop computer can do one of these calculations, a specialized, dedicated server can do ten thousand, but that means that that expensive server can be defeated by simply attacking ten-thousand-and-one regular computers.

Simply put, a million revolvers will have a faster combined rate of fire than even the fastest machine gun.

Those extra magic circles are the projections of the souls of her victims, and this magic is the combined force of her and her network. Essentially, the amount of firepower she can bring to bear is limited only by the size of her network. For all intents and purposes, Jordan considers her power to be infinite, since he’ll certainly run out of magic long before she does, and who’s to say that she won’t pull out even more magic circles. Because Jordan doesn’t know anything else, he’s forced into a disadvantageous, long range fight against what’s essentially the magic equivalent of a tank division.

************************

With the agility of cat, Wendy jumps through the thick lattice of rusted pipe-work like a gymnast, and that unworldly beast simply smashes through everything in it’s pursuit. It’s as if she’s being chased by a bulldozer--the difference in power is so great that narrow spaces are more advantageous to the beast because it can go through everything faster than she can maneuver. If two is running through a maze, then the one who can run through walls will be much faster, tight spaces are only advantageous if the larger pursuant is forced to consider the barriers instead of simply smash through them.

As she speeds through the thick network of crossbeams and support struts, her keen eyes catch a glimpse of something running along side. Columns zoom by, and, through the spaces between, she can see that Loren is simply keeping his distance, watching and waiting. The pursuing devil may be her biggest concern, but the moment she assumes she’s merely fighting one opponent, she’ll be killed.

If she could use Natsume, then blowing both of them away would be an easy task, but Jordan definitely won’t survive the summoning. But, as she is now, she definitely won’t survive either…

“It’s boring if you’re not going to use it.” Loren’s voice echoes through the structure. “You might get killed at this rate.”

“As if I need such a thing!”

He sees a glint of light accompany Wendy’s reply. The light is actually a spray of sparks as she impacts a column of this skeletal metal framework, then the bottom surface of an overhanging pipe like a super ball thrown in an enclosed hallway, or some kind of aerial pinball. Both surfaces spark when hit as if a flint rock is scraped against them. Wendy angled herself perpendicular to each surface and slides across it for an instant before leaping to the next ricocheting through the web of steel like an ice skater not bound by gravity. Her shoes slam down on the pipe he‘s currently running on, her momentum kicking up a whirlwind of dust and flecks of rusted metal shavings as she pivots and aims all of her momentum at him.

And, at that instant, the headless beast capable of swallowing anything opens it’s portal-like mouth. There’s no understanding it, it’s simply incomprehensible alien geometry. If it has no head, then conventional logic says it shouldn’t have a mouth either, yet this monster does. And out of that abyss erupts death.

A ten foot wide hole is blown in the nearest wall, as what can be only described as a beam, or blast of light rams through the air, creating concussion lenses of super heated condensation, and hits the river. As if a depth charge has gone off, the entire pier, as well as every window on the waterfront side of the building, is blown away in a mushroom cloud of erupting water. A passing freighter struggles to keep from pitching up on the opposite side of the bank, and it’s crew is in chaos as several of the sleepy men swear up and down that they seriously just saw a laser beam go over their stern.

It’s not premonition. It’s not a keen sense of awareness. No, it was just simple paranoia that caused Wendy to jump down to a lower level in this web of metal just before her path was engulfed in that light of death. It seemed too easy, and that wariness has just saved her life. But, the speed of the body is not as high as the speed of intuition. In order to survive, Wendy was forced to use some of the power the she’s forbidden to herself.

“Heh, I get it now. For a second there, I thought that you really weren‘t going to use it. But, simply loading it's stats is not enough.” Loren grins as he looks down at her from the roof’s supporting struts, and his beast, which should be too heavy to be supported, also crouches on the adjacent strut.

Wendy’s shoes have melted, and thin trails of smoke rise up around her as she glares up at him. “I won’t say that you’ve been unfair, but if you were really confident in your ability you wouldn’t have called that thing ‘Nameless’. “

“You’ve figured it out?”

“Yeah…that’s just like you to use a legend that’s been perverted over time.” She points her finger at the beast. “The container that once contained all of the evils of the world, was given a name after the fact, so it’s true name is ‘nameless‘, but it’s functional name is ‘Pandora’s box‘.”

Even if the box has never existed, the concept is strong enough to be summoned. And since the strongest part of the legend is the capacity of the container to contain all evil, the world replaced the fictional box with the closest real thing. There’s nothing that can contain all evil, so Loren was merely given a nameless demon with the capacity contain a great deal of evil, and the world gave it the name ‘Pandora’s box’.

“You’re so smart, it’s scary. Of course, it’s in my nature to manipulate the rules to accomplish my goal. What’s strange is how much you’ve changed. You, who only pursed Eden for the good of mankind, why did you sacrifice so many on that day?”

Her expression darkens, and she looks away, avoiding his gaze. “It doesn’t matter. No reason I give can justify it, right? Even if it was a mistake, even if I hate myself with all my might, the blood of millions are on my hands.”

There‘s no sympathy to for such a monster. Loren‘s hard glare doesn‘t ease as he replies. “Indeed. Not even suicide can redeem you. All you can do is continue to suffer for the rest of your life, die and receive the rest of you penance in the afterlife. As hopeless as your soul is, I suppose the weight of one more sin is relatively nothing. Why don’t you use your wand?”

“I refuse!” She stomps her foot as anger overtakes her. “Jordan is--”

“Don’t be foolish. That boy is merely a wand. A wand without use is worthless.”

“That’s wrong!” She stomps again, denting the metal beneath her feat. “I won’t shirk my burden. I know I don’t deserve it after what I’ve done, but, Jordan is…Jordan is the reason I want to keep living. As selfish as it is, I want to be near him for as long as I can. Because you’re right, because I have nothing to lose, because I’m already too dirty to be human, I’ll do whatever it takes to hold on to this happiness!”

“You sound like a child, clinging to things that aren’t yours to have.” As Loren speaks, the demon crouches and opens it’s infinite mouth. Galaxies and stars converge on a single point as the beam charges. “Even to me, you’re an eyesore. Disappear from existence.” The fired beam is so loud that it completely drowns out the sonic booms from below.

No, actually it doesn’t…the sonic booms stop an instant before.

*******************************************************************

A roaring firestorm rages around him. The heat and sound tear at his skin and body as if he stands in the blast wave of a nuclear weapon. That’s okay. Because what’s underneath, what’s inside, what’s stored within is stronger than this force!

Wendy, Loren, and Silvia all gasp in shock as the something opposes the beam that should not, cannot, and never has been blocked. The air condenses into superheated plasma that billows around the unbreakable wall, splashing out as waves that surge against the melting walls of the factory. That boy, Jordan, stands against the light of death with an upright, unflinching posture! His left arm, once the mounting point of the magic bow, is now the attachment point for the greatest shield. The unstoppable beam roars against the impenetrable aegis that has never faltered.

“Natsume!?” Loren lets out a shout of horror. That’s to be expected--how could such an attack possibly be blocked? This display of power is nearly on the level of rejecting reality completely, and that defense, if there’s a limit to magic, has surpassed the limit of limits.

Jordan can’t think. As soon as the beam had been fired, the boy was asked a single question:

Will you save her?

Wendy’s fight had been outside of his perception. He had no idea of what was happening with her battle. Yet, when the final second of the life he loves more than his own drew near, he was given the choice to reject that future. He was given the power to reject the inevitability of her death. He was given the power to cover a distance that could not be covered, at a speed that could not be reached, and to oppose a light that cannot be opposed.

His mind is shattering, being crowded out by the presence of the beast within him. He could stop it at this point, and suppress the will that threatens to consume his, but…

Give me more power!

…He reaches even further into self destruction, and the intruder obliges.

Emergency protocol…
Preparing for full Area neutralization.
Voltage is insufficient. Accessing hidden drives.

The battle of forces continues to rage around him, and even his impenetrable force field begins to thin. While his left hand burns with the heat of death, his right burns with the heat of creation. The weapon is being made, it’s virtual lines twisting, connecting, and rendering his imagination to make concept into reality.

Operations check. Stand by.
System ready. Preparing for hyper convergence.

It’s a cannon. His right arm is a cannon. There are no analogies or similarities to draw--this weapon cannot be described by human concepts. For the first time, the right hand moves in front of the left. The barely holding shield strains under the gushing torrent of heat; heat that could liquefy lead, vaporize diamonds, and burn the surface of the sun…the temperature at the core of this storm is unimaginable, yet the gun does not melt. He hears the “thunk” of it’s prongs digging into the ground, bracing him, and preparing to discharge the heavy recoil.

Ready to fire.
Hyper-bombardment in 3,2,1...

The two lights rage against each other. For the first time on earth, sustained nuclear fusion is underway, as the greatest heat opposes the greatest heat, all of space, time, and reality are burned away in the colliding streams of death. It’s as if this battle has gone off the scale of reason and is no longer even measurable. Or maybe Jordan’s mind, which is being blown away with equal force, is no longer capable of reason. To him, all he can comprehend is the concept of heat, and for the one in the rushing lights, this might as well be the hottest thing in the universe.

Second Stage. Initialize.

And then even the concept of heat is shattered…

 

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
The dull grey clouds are split, blown out in a circular shockwave, and the moon shines, unhindered into the remains of the factory. The third floor is gone, as well as the roof. Loren, the powerful man who wielded Nameless, is nowhere to be found in this world, and the factory’s walls are curled outward, as blown out by an internal explosion.

“…Jordan…”

The single word is broken midway by a waver of emotion. Her mind is locked, unable, no, unwilling to comprehend the hot blood dripping down on her. In the last moment, just before his victory, she’d been knocked flat by the blast. Now, instead of looking up at his heroic, powerful figure framed by the full moon, she sees her boy impaled on a serrated blade of Damascus steel. The cannon disappears, bursting into drops of concentrated magic like an exploding water balloon. Then, with a sickening sucking sound, the blade is withdrawn, and the boy collapses, throwing up blood.

“Jordan!” Wendy scrambles to her knees.

And the assassin speaks, “He’ll live. That suppressed monster will take care of the wound.”

Instead of looking up at the back of her hero, Wendy looks up into the cold eyes of her executor. She grits her teeth, steels her nerves, and tries to kill all fear…but she fails, and all that comes out is a whimper of a reply.

“Why?” Heated tears well up and her voice cracks.

“You should know.”

“Of course I do!” Wendy screams. “I mean, why now?! After seven years, why did you have to come now!?”

His silent expression doesn’t show any wavering or hesitation, and he takes a step forward.

“No!” She jumps to her feet and--

--there’s a sickening squelch as her arm flies off.

“W-wendy!” Jordan, his own bleeding already stopped, struggles to get up. But only the blood as stopped. The rest of his body is still broken. All he can do is lay on the ground, his neck twisting painfully to see what's happening.

Her blood, her life, gushes out, as she staggers from the pain. But that is a mere pinprick compared to the grief that grips her heart. Wendy knows she doesn’t deserve to live. She doesn’t deserve a second chance. She doesn’t deserve forgiveness. All of this would be fine, if she’d had seven years to accept this, seven years to come to hate herself thoroughly.

But, in those seven years, she found a measure of happiness. This grief, this pain is only the result of her taking what she should not have. For the murderer of millions, any happiness only adds to the burden of sin on her soul. It was her lack of discipline, her inability to always, constantly remember what a monster she was, that caused this lapse in judgment. How could she have truly repented, if she, the taker of lives, unabashedly, unashamedly enjoying life?

Yet, despite how unjust it is, despite all of her self-hatred, she can’t let go of what that forbidden treasure, and grasps for her happiness regardless of the morality.

“Please…I…I just want to--”

“What can you possibly be allowed to desire?” The man’s face remains emotionless, but his tone becomes harsh. He is justice incarnated. A monster among monsters. A sentinel.

Wendy response with that same edge. “ I...I want to live!

I want to be happy!

I want to be with Jordan for the rest of my life!

I want to tell him everyday how much I love him!”

That edge is lost midway, and her confident declaration devolves into hopeless sobbing.

“…For you, none of those things can be permitted.” In order to be justice, this man has long ago killed all mercy in his heart.

The blade swings. A fatal arc of moonlight.

And Wendy falls…in two pieces.

His savior, mother, sister, lover, and best friend…all have been instantly destroyed. The core of his life, the only thing that mattered to him, how could it be snuffed out so easily? Jordan, who’s life was built around Wendy, is shown the fragility of his life, and how quickly the most important thing in the world can be snatched from him.

He screams, a blood curling, horrific scream. “You! You fucking murderer! How could you do that! She said she was sorry! She wasn’t hurting anyone!”

“If you’re to blame anyone, blame yourself. Though, you’ll probably never understand.” He doesn’t even turn to look at the crumpled immobile boy as he speaks.

“I’ll fucking kill you! I kill you! I swear, I’ll--”

“You’re free to hate me as much as you want. But, this was a necessary justice. This is the only justice that humans are strong enough to create. If you don’t like it, then defeat me. Become strong to enough to render me unnecessary, and impose your own.” In a billowing of his cloak, the phantom of justice disappears.

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