Revelation (M/F) (F/M) - A sequel to Devastation

[wolfman]

@Bandit666 @Caesar73 @GreyLord @slackywacky

The heavily laden figure emerges from the surf without a ripple. The moonless night is their ally, when the cross the beach, dressed head to toe in black to rest again the base of the cliff.

The figure sits perfectly still for a moment, listening with her mouth slightly open, before taking the first handhold on the sheer granite cliff.

Confident no one has spotted them, they ascend. Picking a seemingly random route up the cliff, occasionally pausing before leaping to a different section of the face. They sail through the dark, cool night air to slip their fingers and toes into imperfections in the rock as easily as a child picks up a candy bar.

An hour before dawn, a thousand feet up, the figure pauses taking a sip of water from their wearable bladder. The predawn sky is alive with all the colours of the rainbow, with the sea a light turquoise lapping at the shore below.

The figure turns to the opening in the rock and slips off her backpack. Laying a towel down, she steps into the opening. Deft fingers strip off her wetsuit, to reveal her naked skin beneath, before donning a silver body stocking. She slips on the gloves and boots and packed everything into her bag and adds a reflective cover, before slipping it back on.

Mia smiles to herself, “Now there will be no trace of the cliff left behind, once I am done.”

She regards the small opening before her, like the blackest night and swallows, “Now the hard part.”

Mia takes a deep breath and inches forward, slowly entering the cave with exaggerated care. “The movement sensors are calibrated to detect movement faster than twenty centimetres a second. This suit will reflect a lot of infra red, but even so I have to be careful.”

After checking everything about her person is secure and unable to slip, she slowly enters the cave.




The rough hewn rock walls, soon give way to the hard steel of the air intake. On all fours, Mia crawls in an exercise of constant slow motion.

Her eyes render the darkness without meaning, in her slow march forth.

Grimly, she smiles, thinking, “For all the evil, that the Pax inflicted upon me, they did give me iron discipline and a laser focus.”

On her slow journey, she thinks back to her training.



Seven years old. Scared. Alone. Her task is a simple one. At least that is what they told her. Get from one end of the field to the other.

Crawling through thick mud.

Under a barbed wire screen, less than two feet off of the ground.

On a moonless night, with thick smoke filling the air.

With her hands bound tightly behind her back and her ankles and legs bound with rope and a thick cloth tied in her mouth.

For good measure, if she stops moving for more than a second, she gets an electric shock.

“Get from here to there and be quick about it. We haven’t got all night.” The lead drill instructor, Avanti, screams in her face. Tears fill the young girls eyes as the uncaring instructors dump her helpless form into the mud. She tries to beg for mercy, but the gag in her mouth renders her unintelligible, under the constant boom of an artillery barrage.

The first shock forces a scream from her throat and she begins to buck and wiggle. She lays back to recover only to be shocked again.

When the third shock comes, the instructor drags her to her feet, “Are you stupid soldier, stop trying to take a nap and get moving.”

She nods weakly and he dumps her back in the mud. She rolls onto her back laying uncomfortably on her bound arms and pushes herself along with her legs.

Progress is slow but it is steady and Mia actually starts to feel OK about this exercise until she realises that the barbed with her is only about a foot off of the ground.

She rolls onto her front, slashing open her left upper arm in the process. The wound is healed almost as quickly as it is torn, but the lesson remains, “Keep low.”

Slithering like a snake, she rolls her shoulders and shuffles forward. Progress is slower but still she is in motion.

A line of gunfire stitches the ground and long the length of the trench, missing Mia by a few inches. She screams and twists away. But another life of gunfire opens up the ground on her other side.

“Nikita wouldn’t panic. All things pass. No pain or suffering is forever. Keep calm and push through.” She thinks and takes a deep breath moving before getting a shock.

Mia dares to look up, powering through the smoke to see the water hazard ahead.

With no choice but to press on she edges forward, at first fearful of putting her head under water, growing more confident as she begins to breathe while submerged. Progress is slow, but continuous.

Keeping her head down the other side of the hazard she presses on until she feels a hand on her back. “Not bad, just under two hours.” Another drill instructors says, checking his stop watch.

She flops face first into the mud and rolls onto her side, gasping for breath.

The drill instructor looks down at her and dispassionately say, “Let’s see if you are quicker on the way back.”



In the air duct, Mia sighs softly, seeing the build up of condensation on the walls, floor and ceiling, barely abated by the cooling fan that whirs less that six inches over head.

She pulls a small magnet from her pocket and sticks it to wall on her left, then produces a screw driver. Slowly, carefully and most important silently, she removes the screws on the cover one by one, sticking them to the magnet.

Gently, Mia lowers the cover to the floor and puts the screwdriver away, taking out a soldering iron. She inspects the circuits and shakes her head, “Lowest bidder piece of junk.”

Using the iron she melts the solder, on one of the circuits until the wire pops off. The fan slowly stops turning and she sequesters the iron and takes out the screw driver once more.

With practiced care she replaces the cover and smiles to herself, “That should do it. Without the fan to circulate air, this will the humidity here will only increase.”

With glacial movements she shrugs her back pack off and pulls on a breathing mask from one of the outer pockets. The full face mask fits her snugly and once satisfied she opens the main compartment of the bag pulling out two large logs.

The wood is not native here, neither are the fungi that impregnate the logs. However, from the moment, Mia sets them down, this place becomes their home.

Drawing back her sleeve slowly, she shows the skin of her arm. She draws a ceramic blade and slices her forearm, letting the blood drip onto the logs for a moment, until the wound seals itself.

Without ceremony, she slowly turns and heads back to the surface. Letting her mind drift back to her training.



Caked in mud, exhausted, shivering. She lays still bound on the floor of the transport after six lengths of the course.

She does not cry knowing the anger it will cause in DI Devon. Instead she focuses on trying to push the cloth out of her mouth with her tongue, so she can get the acrid taste of the mud out of her mouth.

The transport stops sharply and she slides into the vehicles bulkhead. The nasty gash on her forehead, becomes a memory, within the space of a breath.

Devon picks her up by the band of her trousers and roughly carries her into the building.

Dimly she registers that she is being taken into the shower block. Seeing the tiled floor under her.

Devon sets her down and forces her to stand, while he washes his hands. In the blink of an eye she sees everything. The gleaming tiles. The dripping faucets. The rim around the edge of the shower stall. The smell of bleach and shampoo lingering in the humid air.

She snaps to focus, when Devon barks, “Stand ready and don’t move, Prime.”

Mia stands up as straight as she is able, bracing herself.

The jet of water from the large pressure hose, hits her like a bull taking her off of her feet and slamming her into the wall behind her. There is no escape from the ice cold water that blasts her defenceless body and limbs.

“Pain is temporary, peace is eternal.” She repeats over and over, waiting for the water to stop.

By the time the hose is turned off, Mia’s body feels like is it a block of ice.

DI Devon strides over to her, taking off his belt and folding it double, “You were ordered to stand ready and not move.” He barks, angrily.

Mia lays motionless with her back to the wall, curled in a ball on her side. Devon stands over her and raises the belt over his head, “The good thing is I can beat on you for days and a second after I finish there isn’t a mark on you for proof.”

Mia moves like a coiled spring, slamming the soles of her feet into the wall behind her, then straightening her legs, spinning sideways.

Her shins slam into the backs of Devon’s ankles, sweeping his legs from under him. He pitches backwards, the back of his neck connecting with the sharp stone rim of the shower.

His eyes go wide and he struggles to breath, paralysed. Mia lays breathless on the ground until his chest rises and falls no more.

Tears fill her eyes in the way only an eight year old girl can do when she is pretending to be upset. She puts her back to the wall and pushes with her feet, until she is standing.

Mia hops, unsteadily, screaming into her gag. Once she is in the corridor, a young soldier comes to her aid, pulling the cloth from her mouth.

“Please sir.” She says, beside herself, “There has been a terrible accident, my DI fell over and her isn’t moving.”

An hour later, she sits wrapped in a blanket watching the scene unfold. As a precaution, the staff have left her wrists bound behind her.

She closes her eyes, hanging her head, pretending not to hear what is going on around her. “For all his posturing, dumb fucker died, from slipping in the shower.” One soldier says, with a chuckle.

“Why was his belt in his hand?” Another asks, with a sick look on his face.

“I don’t wanna know. Sick fucker. I have been warning command about him for months.” A sergeant says, shaking his head and looking at Mia with pity. “I question what we are doing here sometimes.”

Mia watches the medics carry Devon out of the showers on a stretcher with his face covered, her face shows anguish, but her heart is cold, “That is what you get.”



At the point where the metal duct, meets the rock of the cliff, Mia waits for the last light of the day to fade.

“Be patient and keep pushing forward.” She thinks, like a mantra.

She sits back against a wall for a moment and closes her eyes, “The Clinic is gone and several instructors are dead, by my hand. However the truth is that there are many elements still to be dealt with and that the ultimate blame rests with the Pax Felix and they need to pay.”

Mia shakes her head subtly, “No. That is not right. The people of the Pax Felix, have done nothing wrong. If anything, they have suffered as I have. It is the regime that is at fault.”

“All things in good time.” She decides slowly rising to her feet in the darkness of the night, “First, I need to get the pieces in place. Then all bets are off.”

[Caesar73]

It is very ironic that Pax created the Weapon that might destroy them themselfes. The Backflashes were very illuminating!

[wolfman]

It is very ironic that Pax created the Weapon that might destroy them themselfes. The Backflashes were very illuminating!

How often it is the actions of the unjust that lead to their downfall?

I was on the fence about the flashbacks, but glad I included them to add context to her experiences and outlook

[Caesar73]

I was on the fence about the flashbacks, but glad I included them to add context to her experiences and outlook

A good decision. They illuminate how Mia got the Person she is now. They shed light on the Mia we do not know. The young Mia. The Sequence was well chosen I dare say: Mia in her formative Years.

[wolfman]

@Bandit666 @Caesar73 @GreyLord @slackywacky

Felix Prime is a bountiful realm. Almost three thousand square miles of forests, plains and fields. The rivers and seas teem with fish.

Despite the Roman aesthetic of the nation, the climate is more akin to that of France than Italy. With some areas, dipping below freezing in the winter and pushing ninety Fahrenheit in the summer months.

However, for those who call it home it is not a lush or idyllic paradise. Access to food in tightly controlled and rationed. Wages are low and taxes high.

The Emperor and his Senators rule with an iron fist and the Centurions maintain order with extreme prejudice.

The military is well seasoned, with many serving in over a dozen annexation campaigns. They are equipped with some of the best weapons of any military apart from Atlantis and boast almost half a million soldiers, sailors and pilots in the ranks, in twenty bases across the realm.

One such base is Wolf Rock.



Wolf Rock is an imposing sight, rising two thousand feet above sea level on the Eastern shore. The shadow of the Rock, houses the core of the realms elite forces and support groups.

Today a courier arrives from the capital. The young man stands at ease having lain down his diplomatic bundle on the desk of the receiving officer. His orders are to wait for any formal responses and return accordingly.

The room is small and stuffy. Sweat beads on the young man’s freshly shaved head, however his stance is ram rod straight.

“You are a new face.” Receiving officer, Ciro remarks.

“Passed out of basic three weeks ago, sir.” The soldier responds, professionally.

Ciro eyes the man up, “Well at least you look the part.” He comments on the young soldiers, neatly pressed uniform, shining boots and combat webbing.

The young man looks up nervously, “I have a confession to make.” He glances down at his sidearm for a split second, “I have signed out a pistol, but I was only given one magazine and a load of flashbangs.”

“Idiot. What are you going to do if you get ambushed?” Ciro barks.

“I know, sir. I wanted to sign out a rifle as well but, Officer Lore, shooed me away.” He confesses.

Ciro sighs, “That bloke is a moron.” He scribbles on a piece of paper. “Take this to the armoury and get some pistol magazines and a rifle, drop off the excess flashbacks too. Honestly that guy is a bloody menace.”

The soldier breathes a sigh of relief, taking the paper, “Thank you, sir. Is there anything to return in despatches?”

“No son, off you go.” Ciro says, shaking his head in dismay.



The young man, waits at the armoury and hands over the note when his time comes.

Armourer Creole apprises the note and nods, “That should be fine. Go through and log at each station what you are taking or leaving behind.”

The courier, steps through the security door and traverses the cavernous space first taking three magazines for the pistol at his side, then a Remus sniper rifle and ammunition.

He the goes to four separate stations to drop off the other ordnance he has before returning to the desk. As he waits he checks the bulletin board, absently noting, that almost eighty percent of the bases personnel will take part in the Emperors Birthday Parade in a couple of months. “I had forgotten, that parades are such a big deal.”

Creole inspects his gear and confirms it balances, with the courier’s entries and sends him on his way.

He slowly walks back to his off road vehicle and glances around, as he starts it up.

“With the right attitude and props you can get in anywhere.” Prime thinks, “Enough tape to flatten my breasts. Shaven head. Crisp pressed uniform. Documents official looking enough to be read once, but boring enough to be filed away.”

Prime takes a deep breath before pulling away, “Amazing what you can do with a stolen uniform and a few forged requisitions. The military has protocols, to enforce how things are done. However, they are a double edged sword. Such as having no fixed schedule for couriers. A base may have half a dozen in a day or none for a month, makes intercepts so much harder, but exploits so much easier.”

She nods to the gate guards as they wave her through and she checks her notepad, “Six down fourteen to go. Time to stash the weapons and load up on flashbangs.”



Two days later, late evening, Senator Aphis’s villa, New Amalphi.

The palatial villa is a testament to power and career of hard decisions. The senator, was once a decorated general, over seeing many a bloody campaign. Some against his own people, when they dared to express displeasure at the regime.

He entered office at the right hand of the Emperor, masterminding many critical projects, not least of which was the Prime Initiative. Using his military expertise and the prowess of his finest soldiers and espionage agents, he created the training program that shaped Prime’s skill set, making her the most well trained operator in all the realms.

The rotund senator, sits back in a poolside recliner and watches the newest member of his serving staff slink around the pool with the grace of a jungle cat.

In stark contrast to her perfectly toned physique, Aphis has a body marked by excess, upon leaving the military. A figure inflated by meals without rations. A belly, swollen with a lifetime of beer and wine and a face reddened by the consumption of questionable substances.

The shorts give him the minimum of dignity covering his manhood and backside but little more of his sweat sheened body.

“I have never been more glad of my bikini’s only clothing policy.” He hungrily, stares at her C cup breasts, gently swaying, when the young woman approaches with a glass of brandy.

The young woman, too innocent to know the effect her succulent breasts have on a man such as this, leans down to hand him his drink, “Will there be anything else, sir?” she asks, in a voice that would melt a glacier, tucking a lock of honey blonde hair behind her ear.

“Stay a while, my child. Keep an old man company.” He says, patting the side of his recliner.

She gives a coy smile and perches herself on the edge of the recliner, her perfectly toned bikini clad buttock, gently brushing his thigh, “I don’t see an old man.” She whispers, placing a cool hand on his arm.

Aphis feels his heart thumping in his chest at her touch, awakening something in him, he thought dead and buried years ago, “How old are you, child?”

She looks down at him with her big blue eyes and nervously bites her lip, “I turned eighteen a few months ago.”

He gulps, his mouth dry, “You are so young. So pure.” He glances towards the house, to see his bedroom light has been turned off, thinking, “My wife has gone to bed.”

She leans in close, her long blonde hair teases his chest and her full luscious lips brush his ear as she speaks, “I might be young, but I am not that pure, sir.”

Speechless he gasps, unable to take his eyes off of her. She leans back on the recliner and reaches behind her back with both hands. His heart races, watching her slowly peel off the bikini top, to reveal her perfect breasts.

She nods towards the pool, “Would you like to plunge in?”

He nods frantically and allows himself to be lead by the hand to the pool. Aphis climbs down the ladder into the cool, refreshing water. The girl turns off the lights in the pool and climbs down the ladder, giving him a moonlit view of her toned, immaculate rump, as she descends into the water.

His open arms await the beauty before him. She throws her arms around his neck and wraps her legs around his waist, “There is something magnetic about being in the presence of a powerful man.” She coos into his ear, before kissing his neck.

He pulls her close pressing her breasts into his chest then knees her buttocks with his flabby hands, “This is like a dream.” He gasps.

“More like a nightmare.” She whispers, coldly.

He pulls back confused, opening his mouth to speak, however the trap is already sprung.

Her embrace tightens. He tries to struggle. Lashing out, he grabs a handful of her hair, shocked when he pulls it all off. Horrified, he gasps, in recognition, “You.”

Effortlessly, she pushes him under the water, then with powerful legs, kicks for the bottom of the pool. No matter how he fights, he cannot escape his fate.

Mia looks down on him with disgust, thinking, “You gave the order to condition me for sexual encounters after I turned eighteen and in turn I saw the Pax Felix for what is really is. It seemed only fitting that I use the lessons learned to deal with you.”

Prime watches as he takes a lungful of water and the life starts to leave his eyes. She suppresses the rage she feels, remembering each of the men who forced themselves on her, under this man’s orders.



Following his passing, Mia collects the wig and retrieves the dislodged hairs from the struggle. With precision and control, she exits the water and picks up her bikini top and the brandy glass.

Using a spare towel she wipes away her watery footprints and quietly leaves the estate, no one the wiser for her being there.

The moment she lands on the far side of the properties fence, a serving girl with a brandy in hand, approaches the senators chair. With a scream she drops the glass, seeing her employer floating face down in the pool.

Walking away in darkness, she weeps for her lost innocence.




Pax Felix Network news, 08:00 hours, the next day.

Emperor Carnos, stand at a podium, in a high ceilinged auditorium, he wears the robes of his office and the crown of his rule.

“Friends, Felicians, countrymen. I stand before you on this day, with news of a tragic loss to our empire.” He takes a sip of water before he continues, “In the early hours of last night, our beloved Senator Aphis, was discovered in his pool, unresponsive. Despite several attempts to revive him, my great friend and hero to our people, is no longer with us.”

Carnos pauses again, to take a sip of water, “That a man so revered and respected, has left this plane, leaves a hole in all of our lives. In recognition of this, there will be a period of three days official mourning. Then on Saturday there will be a full state funeral, befitting his office and stature. On this day, no businesses will trade and we will all lend our focus to honouring this man’s passing.”

The screen fades to black, before showing a montage of photos from the senators life, from his service in the military, to his works as a senator as sombre music plays.




The Emperor’s Chambers, 08:00

“Masterful speech your greatness.” Vizier Agga simpers.

“It was masterful horseshit at best.” Carnos snarls, “Was it her?”

“I’m sorry, sire?” Agga asks, confused.

“PRIME. Did she kill Aphis?” Carnos barks, angrily.

Agga feels the vaulted ceilings and fresco adorned walls close in on him, bearing the full force if the Emperor’s stare, “Every indication is that the senators tragic passing was an accident. No trace of Prime has been seen since the slaughter at the medical centre.”

The Emperor sits back on his throne and steeples his fingers, before speaking in a low, threatening tone, “Issue a decree. For the next three nights there will be an eight pm curfew, to allow for greater reflection of the good senators passing.”

Agga stands slack jawed, “Of course, your greatness.” He says pensive, “It shall be done.”

“I want the streets empty at night.” Carnos says, coldly, “At nine pm, I want every war hound we have on the streets. We will run her to ground and tear her apart like the animal she is.”

Agga nods, sagely, “An excellent plan, your greatness. Which unit shall be deployed to support them?”

Emperor Carnos smiles darkly, “The only unit that can hunt her down.” He sneers, “The unit that trained her. They taught her all she knows and know how she thinks. She has turned her back on the Pax Felix. She will learn the price of betrayal.”

[Caesar73]

So finally we learn something about Felix Prime. There seem to be one or the other Reference to Ancient Rome. I like the World you created her. Everything seems to be in Order. Little does the Emperor and his Officers know, that the Enemy is already in their Midst.

How Prime infaltrated the Enemie´s Base was as simple as effective.

The Emperor seems to be a Version of one of the less likable Roman Emperors. He seems not to be as mad as Caligula. More coolly calculating with a cruel Streak I feel. Tiberius? Domitian?

There is a Quote attributed to Tiberius which seems to fit the Bill: May they hate me as long as they fear me.

Prime has done the first Step, if everything continues to go according to Plan remains to be seen. We know already she is a deadly Weapon. I wonder if Kate will make another appearance!

[wolfman]

Thank you very much for ypur comments @Caesar73

As Atlantis, is tinged with ancient greece, i wanted the Pax Felix to feel more roman. You have hit the nail on the head with Emperor Carnos. He is cruel and calculating and rules by fear and restriction of basic rights and human needs. Keeping the populace down while elevating himself. The quite you mention is particularly apt.

Some elements pf Prime's plan will make little sense at this stage but should prove interesting when the plan is fully enacted.

As for Kate showing up again. You never know.

[wolfman]

@Bandit666 @Caesar73 @GreyLord @slackywacky

The normally crowded park, is deserted for the first time in a generation. The eerie silence of the park is abruptly split by monstrous howls of giant War Hounds and deep throated rumbling of idling motorcycles.

If one were to walk through the park, you would see the shadows lengthening in the last remnants of evening light. Cedars and pines dot the park, punctuating its lush lawn. Scattered flower beds and shrubberies line the paths through the grounds, as they gently descent to the lake.

On summer evenings, gondolas lazily traverse the waters of the lake, ferrying passengers to the various restaurants on its shores. However, on this night, the bandstand plays host to a very different event to those it normally does.

In front of the stand, fifty matt black motorcycles stand ready, while their riders wait patiently. They have no need to check their gear, they have spent all day checking their load outs and stripping and cleaning their weapons.

Behind the stand, four articulated lorries are parked. Each trailer has ten cages per side. Each cage holds a War Hound, bred for size, power and speed, trained to hunt and kill from birth. Each race horse sized, wolf snarls and howls, gnashing their dagger like fangs at the air, hungry for the taste of their prey.

The War Hounds scratch at their sides, trying to dislodge the armour that has been buckled to their bodies, having long given up on trying to remove the titanium implants, that replace their natural teeth and claws.



Commander Avanti stands ready, in motorcycle leathers and body armour. “Gentlemen, here we are again. This is not the first time, we have hunted Prime, however this time it is for keeps. It will be her or us. ”

“The last confirmed sighting was her escape from custody and slaughter of the Prime project medical team and the Alphas. She is not the young woman she appears to be. She is a shark in human form. An apex predator. We take no chances.” He says calmly, before lowering his tone, “Not to mention she may bear a grudge for her treatment during her training and conditioning.”

He paces on the podium, with a grave expression, “We all know what she can do.” He shifts his gaze between each of his men, making eye contact, “Never forget that the skills she has, are the skills we gave her. The difference is we have experience on top of that skill.”

“The plan is simple. The War Hounds have her scent from samples recovered from the clinic. We deploy the packs around the city and shadow them on the bikes, until we get a positive, then converge. If you get a positive ID call it in, do not engage her. Let the dogs take her and once she is down and the dogs are clear, we finish the job with thermite.” Avanti says calmly and professionally.




Prime listens from the edge of the lake, mostly submerged with the left side of her head just above the surface.

The sound of the War Hounds being freed from their cages and prepared for action, drowns out the sound of Avanti’s speech.

As she prepares for what is to come, she recalls the last time this team hunted her.



One month after Prime’s eighteenth birthday, Vulpine Mountain range.

The men are restless so is Prime. Dressed in shirts and a t-shirt, with comfortable running shoes, she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

The hard steel of the handcuffs bites into the soft skin of her wrists. After all she has been through, you would be forgiven for thinking that the pain does not bother her, however, you would be wrong. The pinching of her skin is a reminder that she is about to be put through another horrific exercise at the hands of her instructors.

Thick tape wraps around each fist, rendering her fingers useless, unable to release the cuffs, even if a key were to be found.

She grunts at the discomfort she feels. Unable to speak due to the football sized sponge compressed down and cruelly stuffed into her mouth and the many wraps of tape around her head, preventing her from trying to spit it out.

Without warning the dark interior of the vehicle is flooded with light, by the opening of the rear doors. Rough hands drag her into the cold mountain air and force her to stand.

Avanti stands before her, “The base is ten miles due south. The team have orders to chase you down and shoot you on sight. You are ordered not to engage them. If any of the team suffer an injury inflicted by you, you will be punished. Is that clear?” He barks.

Mia nods, with a look of stoicism, knowing that by the end of the day, she will another step closer to escaping or at least exposing this nightmare.

Two of the drill instructors approach her and one holds her shoulders, while the other wraps a chain above and below her breasts, before passing it under her arms and over her shoulders. She frowns confused feeling the click of a padlock between her shoulder blades.

Mia grunts, feeling the constriction on her chest, hampering her breathing. She doesn’t make any sounds of complaint as this is not the soldiers way.

Avanti wraps his arm around her shoulders, and speaks gently, “This will be your roughest test, however if you pass, you will be rewarded later.”

Mia looks at him confused, thinking, “A reward? I hope it is chocolate. Oooh wait, no. I would love some cake.”

Avanti marches her over to a trailer that has a stripped engine block from a Phalanx tank next to it. Drill Instructor Andereman locks a chain around the block and locks it to the back of her chest harness. Before unlocking her wrists.

Avanti takes out a stop watch and starts it, “Get moving, soldier.”



With her hands wrapped, she knows she cannot grip the chain to pull it and must just try to power forward. She moves to the limit of the chains slack and digs her feet. She grunts straining against the weight she is dragging, slowly edging forward until she can build up momentum.

Less than a hundred metres from her starting point, she hears Avanti order the other DIs to begin pursuit. She digs deep and pushes as hard as she dare.

“This is nuts, at best I will be able to run at maybe six miles per hour. They will soon catch me.” Mia realises thinking of her options. “I am not getting rid of this block any time soon and its like an anchor.”

Gauging the length of the chain, she turns slowly, pulling the connecting chain around her stomach and then crouches, hooking her right arm under it, so the chain is over her shoulders, then she fights to stand, lifting the block like a massive backpack.

Breathing hard she powers forward at almost double her previous speed, but with massive strain on her legs.

An hour later, throat burning with thirst, she leans back at the foot of a cliff, gasping for air. “This is brutal. I still marvel at how the sadists on the project devise new ways to condition me.” She pushes away from the cliff and starts shakily moving forward, “Scratch that. It is not conditioning, it is giving me the power to break free from the course they have planned, so I can walk my own path.”

Moving one foot after the other she makes slow progress but still pushes forward, “It doesn’t matter. It will be worth it when I finish my training and can escape this life.”

Metre after back breaking metre she strides on. Never flinching from the pain. Always fighting for the next step. The terrain is rocky and treacherous, however, she stays the course, ever vigilant for signs of her pursuers. “If they had conditioned me against gravity, like they did with magic I could make this as light as a feather.” She think bitterly, “I wonder.”

The crest of the last hill gives way to a most wonderful view. The base sits atop the next forested hill and has never looked so good. Exhausted and in pain, she is spurred on by the knowledge that she is nearly home and picks up the pace.



She barely notices the first pop, seeing the paintball hit a tree inches from her head.

Mia screams when the next hits her shoulder, bursting on impact. The acid within the ball, begins burning instantly.

The air is filled with the pop of airguns and the whiz of paintballs. With nowhere to hide and orders not to engage, Prime does the only thing she can. She endures.

The acid vapour reacts with the moisture in her eyes, virtually blinding her. Her throat burns from the sulphurous vapour, each breath bringing a fresh wave of pain in her throat and lungs.

The firing never stops. For over an hour she is relentlessly pummelled, her skin and throat, healing as quickly as it is burned, with each new volley bringing a fresh hell of pain. Even at the height of the barrage, nothing deters her from her goal.



She painfully marches to the centre of the parade ground, numb, both emotionally and physically. The heavily dissolved, tattered remnants of her uniform barely covering her body.

Three of the men approach and remove the chain holding the engine block and free her hands. Finally they peel the tape from her face and pull out the soaked sponge out of her mouth.

She stands at attention, stoically. Avanti approaches and stands before her as the other instructors gather around.

Without changing expression, she braces herself, ready for almost anything, until the assembled instructors begin to clap.

Mia stands confused when one of them puts a jacket around her shoulders and they begin patting her on the back.

Avanti clears his throat and the applause dies down, “Prime. You have been put through every kind of physical hell and training drill there is and emerged victorious. This exercise signals the end of your martial training and conditioning.”

Mia gapes, dumbfounded, as the lead instructor continues, “As a reward, the rest of the day, is yours to rest and pack. Tomorrow you ship out for the final part of your training at the Carnal Warfare Academy in the Hub.”



The present. The Bandstand

From the edge of the lake, Prime watches the soldiers check their gear and the dog handlers, activate the shock collars on their packs, whipping them into a frenzy.

She silently submerges, gliding from her concealment to the shore on the opposite side of the Hounds to the soldiers.

With a punch dagger in hand she keeps low. Moving faster than a natural human could ever dream of, she grabs the nearest trainer. Her hand clamps his mouth as she kicks the back of his knees. His eyes go wide and then roll back, when her blade enters the base of his skull and she scrambles his brains.

She lays him quietly down and wipes the blade clean. The wetsuit hugs her curves like a second skin and makes no sound to betray her presence.

As she approaches the rear quarter of one of the cage trucks, two more handlers round the corner. Prime leaps, driving her blade through the eye of one, pulling back quickly to slam it up under the jaw of the other, into his brain, through the roof of his mouth.

After rolling the bodies under the truck, she continues. She hugs the side of the adjacent truck, like a lover. Climbing on its roof and laying flat.

“My old instructors are almost ready to roll out.” She notes, before rolling off of the roof, to knock the last trainer to the ground, her blade sealing his fate before he can make a sound.

Prime stares darkly at the last trainers face, as the life leaves him, “The only people I hate more than those who made me who I am, are people like you, who torment animals gleefully, in the name of duty.”



Avanti reloads his pistol and stows it in his hip holster, when one of his men approaches, “Sir, the troops will be ready to move in five, couple of the bikes running rough.”

“Fucking junk. We are hunting public enemy number one with lowest bidder crap.” Avanti curses, “Tell the guys to do what they can. We need to at least put on a good show tonight.”

“Don’t you think we will get her?” The sergeant asks, taking drink from his canteen.

Avanti squints, looking at the last light of the day and strokes his chin, “No chance. With her ability to sense soft spots and a shred of sense, she is long gone.”

“Where do you think she is?” Vincenzo asks, feeling a sense of relief.

Avanti puffs out his cheeks as he breathes out, “No idea. Somewhere with either lots of people, where she can blend in, or no people so she can vanish. Maybe America or Canada, possibly Europe.”

Vincenzo shrugs, “It’s a pay day. With the cash from training her and gigs like this, I will retire within a year.”

Avanti chuckles, “Same here and with the rejuvenation treatments to reset our bodies, we have a long life ahead of us.”




Prime readies her weapon and quietly leans with her back to a tree, mere metres from Avanti and Vincenzo.

She takes a deep breath and without warning spins around the tree and opens fire.

The cacophony of fully automatic shotgun fire is deafening, even in the open air. Every instructor dives but all feel the 12 gauge bean bags slam into them.

At the end of the fifty round drum, Prime reloads and sprays the prone and scrambling instructors again.

Avanti feels his side, soon realising that whilst he has been hit, the round didn’t breach his armour. He sees Prime smiling, with the weapon cradled across her chest.

The Commander is on his feet, pistol drawn and levelled at her head, “You fucking idiot. You should know that a shotgun, even a slug won’t penetrate our standard armour.”

“If I was trying to, I wouldn’t have used bean bag rounds.” She says, with a darkening smile.

Avanti looks down at the spot he was hit, noticing it is wet, he touches it, his finger coming away red, “What the hell? Paint?” he asks, confused.

“Closest thing to paintballs, I could get. Automatic shotgun with bean bags rounds soaked in blood.” Prime says coldly.

“Is this some sick joke to you?” He bellows as the other instructors gather around, weapons trained on her.

“Questions. Questions. Always questions.” Mia says with a smile and a wink, “Shame you never thought to ask if they tested the sample that they prepped the dogs with.”

Avanti looks at the paint at his side and the patches of blood on his fellow instructors, “What?” He asks, breathlessly.

“Do you really think, I would leave a sample of my own blood for you to use?” Mia asks, making a show of looking past the assembled group raising her eyebrows.

Avanti realises that the baying and howling that has been constant since they arrived, has stopped and the War Hounds are silent.

He turns slowly, feeling sweat trickle down his neck, seeing that the War Hounds are silently watching.

Avanti turns back to Prime, his voice barely a whisper, “Not like this.”

“If you are lucky you might be able to jump in the lake and wash off the blood before they catch you.” Mia says, with ice in her voice.




Despite the closest instructor, being a mere thirty metres from the water, none of them make it.

The thick armour they wear does little to stop the Hounds augmented teeth and claws, tearing them to pieces.

Mia watches on from the water. There is no pleasure in this horror show, simply a feeling of relief that they cannot do to anyone else what they did to her.

As the bloodbath comes to an end, she exits the water and moves unmolested through the carnage salvaging everything she can from the bodies of the fallen, before bagging up the remains in two garbage bags.

She begins to turn back to the water to leave, but locks eyes with one of the Hounds, that is staring at her.

Looking deep into it’s eyes, she softens, “Taken from your mother, experimented on and turned into a weapon. Damned to a life of violence.”

Against all instincts, she approaches the bandstand, where the Hound waits. She holds her hand, out palm down and lets the beast, smell the back of her hand.

She turns over her hand and strokes under the beasts chin. The Hound flops to the ground and bows its head. Mia rests her forehead against the massive beasts head and sadly whispers, “We are the same.”

[Caesar73]

Prime´s Hunters suffer from one Disease: Hubris. They they think: We have trained her so we know her. What escapes them? They created a Weapon wit abilities beyond their Grasp.

I did like the look back to the Past: Prime´s final Test.

The Present is equally impressive: Mia is creative and deadly. Almost sad? The last line, when Mia says to the Hound "We are the same."

The Way Prime was forged into a Weapon tells a lot about the Society who does such things.

Impressive Chapter my Friend.

[wolfman]

@Caesar73 Thank you for your kind words.

The hubris of the trainers is the sweetest of fruits for Prime. This is true for the gevernment who allowed and directed the programme that created her.

The last line is in many ways true, both her and the Hounds have been forced into a lift not of their choosing, the difference is Mia was able to break free.

I appreciate your support and patronage

[Bandit666]

Well what can I say other than it’s been an absolute delight to catch up on all I’ve missed over the last month or more of absence from the site and please believe me @wolfman when I state openly I’ve enjoyed every minute spent reading your efforts. Bravo my friend bravo.

[wolfman]

Well what can I say other than it’s been an absolute delight to catch up on all I’ve missed over the last month or more of absence from the site and please believe me @wolfman when I state openly I’ve enjoyed every minute spent reading your efforts. Bravo my friend bravo.

Thank you @Bandit666 for your generous ans kind words.

I am very happy to hear that you have enjoyed catching up with this tale and hope you are well and continue to enjoy it.

Thank you again

[wolfman]

@Bandit666 @Caesar73 @GreyLord @slackywacky

Emperor Carnos heaves mightily, flipping his solid oak desk with a bellow, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN? GONE?”

Vizier Julius, sweats profusely and wrings his hands, nervously, “Local enforcement, confirm that the vehicles are onsite in the park. There is blood and signs of a struggle, but the soldiers and War Hounds are gone.”

“WHERE ARE THEY?” The Emperor demands.

“The Hounds appear to have charged across the city and disappeared into the forests to the North.” Julius says, gravelly. “The soldiers and their equipment are missing.”

Carnos’ face turns from red to purple as his blood pressure spikes, “Find them. I want answers and I want them before the parade for Aphis. You have two days”

The Vizier gives a subjugating nod, “I have our intelligence services conducting a full investigation.”

Carnos has a moment of clarity, “We have been blinded. How could we have been so foolish?”

The Vizier looks on confused as the Emperor continues, “There is no way Prime could have overcome the pursuit team and Hounds alone. She had help.”

The Emperor begins pacing and frantically, “Bloody Halpron.” He exclaims, with a glint of fervour in his eyes, “He is behind this. Trying to undermine us.”

“Sire?” The Vizier asks, confused.

“Don’t argue. Contact the army, I want every non Pax Felician in custody by morning. Commence immediately, I don’t want the bastards escaping.” Carnos says, with a slightly deranged smile.

“What should we do with the prisoners, your excellence?” Julius asks, feeling a pit in his stomach.

“Why, send them to the Hub for processing, you fool. Do I have to think of everything?” The Emperor sneers.

The Vizier nods, knowing not to argue with the Emperor when he is in one of these moods, but thinking, “This will condemn almost a thousand people to agonising deaths. This is madness.”




Prime listens to the orders as they are broadcast and grimaces in disgust. “It was a matter of time.” She thinks, lowering her bags off of the Dock.

Mia thinks for a moment, weighing up her options, before she pulls out a phone and dials a number.

Without emotion at the end of the call, she drops the phone into the water and follows it taking a deep breathe with her gills, as her arms and legs adapt to underwater function. “Drop me in the water and I adapted. Set me on fire and I adapted. Surround me with Mana and I adapted. Shame they didn’t consider that just because they didn’t expose me to some things doesn’t mean I wouldn’t adapt to them too.”

She opens her eyes slowly, taking in the last light of the day, filtering through the water. Mia feels herself nourished by the sun, as her body processes the sunlight via a process similar to photosynthesis.

The vibrant corals and fish take on an almost ethereal quality while she watches and gathers the last of the sun’s energy.

“All my life I have either trained or acted. So few times have I been able to stop and appreciate the beauty of the world.” She muses, with a smile of wonder.

Shaking herself from her reverie, Mia kicks towards the sea bed, ignoring the bodies of her drill instructors, concealed here after their demise. Retrieving the bags she dropped, she kicks hard out to sea, thinking of her destination.



The day after her Eighteenth birthday, helicopter on approach to the Hub.

Mia has a buzz about her, this is the final stage of training before she qualifies and can be assigned an active role and God willing, escape this life.

She is alone in the cargo bay of the helicopter, with her kit. Wide eyed, she keeps looking out of the window, hoping to see her destination, instead of endless ocean.

An hour into her flight she is rewarded with her first view of the Hub. A massive floating city almost two miles across, in the middle of the sea. Glass and steel spires jut from the floating bedrock of the city. A gleaming jewel in the gentle seas.

The island is a giant pumice construction, floating on the oceans surface, anchored and stabilised to the sea bed and thousand metres down.

Home to the empire’s intelligence services and the heart of communications, it is a literal Hub of information and intelligence for the realm and beyond. An unassailable fortress far from harm’s way.

The helicopter dips its nose and banks gently, heading for one of the gantries on the west side of the island. Mia settles back into her seat and takes a deep breath, “I am ready for whatever they do to me here. Once this is done, I will find a way out of this life.” She silently pledges.

The aircraft lands with barely a bump and the rear doors open to show a friendly looking woman in her thirties, with Blonde hair in full uniform.

“I am Cassandra, you must be Prime. Pleasure to meet you.” The woman says, in a disarming tone, offering her hand in greeting.

Mia takes the offered hand and returns a warm smile, “Pleasure to be here. I am looking forward to seeing what you have to show me.”

Cassandra smiles and nods, waving towards the door, “The crew will bring your things, let’s get you set up and we can start getting you oriented right away.”

“Perfect.” Mia beams a smile, unable to hide her enthusiasm.

Cassandra leads Mia around the wing. Dazzling sunshine streams through the large windows, that line every corridor. Everyone they pass, smiles , looking resplendent in immaculately pressed uniforms.

“This is not what I expected. I was thinking, control rooms and data centres.” Mia remarks, passing a fountain, encrusted with diamonds.

“Here at the Hub we deal with the darkness of the realms and the worst humanity has to offer. So to balance that, we have an island of incredible beauty and light.” Cassandra explains, leading down a flight of stairs.

Mia nods thoughtfully, “That makes sense.” She follows her guide , wordlessly for a moment, before asking, “So what is Carnal Warfare anyway. I found no mention of it in any tactical manuals.”

Cassandra’s body language tightens for a moment, before she relaxes “You will see shortly. There is a demonstration set up which will answer all of your questions.”

Not satisfied with the response, but sensing it was the best she would get, Mia let’s it go, allowing herself to enjoy her surroundings.



Mia follows Cassandra into what appears to be a dance studio with a gymnastics horse set up in the middle. “Here we are.” Cassandra announces, taking the room in the spread of her arm.

Confused, Mia looks at Cassandra, “OK?”

Cassandra beams a smile at Mia, with all the warmth of the sun, “Strip please. Need to show you are not hiding anything or holding back.”

Mia shrugs and begins, removing her shirt, “Not the first time I have had to be naked for a training session.” She rationalises, despite a nagging in the back of her mind.

Cassandra watches as Mia undressed, her gaze taking in every curve of her body, hungrily. Once her charge is naked, she leads her to the horse, “Just need to get you in position.” She says, in a clipped and professional tone.

Prime does not resist as her ankles are guided apart and locked into manacles that force her legs apart. Nor does she resist when Cassandra places a cool hand on her shoulder and bids her to lean forward.

She does not resist, but her disquiet builds finding her stomach and breasts resting atop the horse and her wrists manacled on the far side, leaving her bent over and exposed.

Mia opens her mouth to question the procedure but feels a metal ring forced into her mouth with two leather straps that are buckled behind her neck.

Despite a lifetime of torment, in this room, helplessly locked down with this strangely smiling woman, she feels fear.

Heedless of Prime’s garbled protests, Cassandra secures a stiff collar around her neck which forces Mia to lift her head and look straight ahead.

“You need to be ready for anything.” Cassandra purrs, stroking the exposed flesh of Mia’s rump, “You need to know how to use your womanly wiles, to your advantage. However, before that, you need to be desensitised against being taken forcefully.” Cassandra steps back from the horse and loudly claps twice.

A door on the far side of the studio opens and three men emerge, heavily muscled, well oiled, naked and erect. “Today we begin your preparations.” She says, stepping further back as the men approach with predatory looks on their faces. “I am so pleased that bastard Avanti, hadn’t warned you.”

Mia pulls at her restraints, knowing they are too strong to break and she would not be able to bear the agony of pulling her hands and feet off to escape. She screams, in terror.




Present day, a thousand feet below the Hub.

Mia vomits into the water, at the horror she felt that fateful day and grimaces, flushing her mouth with sea water.

“Focus. You have a task to complete. This is just like everything else. A thing that needs doing, before you can get on with your life.” Prime thinks.

She checks the bags and nods to herself, “Avanti and the other instructors were going to destroy my body with thermite. I have no idea why they thought they would need four grenades each, but I will take it as a win.”

Prime looks up through the gloom at the structure she feels above her. “The hub was designed to be impregnable against sea based attack. Able to withstand heavy aerial bombardment with bunkers deep in the pumice to protect from radiation.”

She takes our one of the thermite grenades and fixes it to one of the links of a support chain, “Shame they didn’t make it Prime proof.”

She swims in darkness, with only her thoughts for company, while she moves between various chains, “Pumice floats. However it is not stable, for that you need to precisely anchor the stone and add ballast to keep it even.” She recalls, her science professor explaining, “That is why the Hub is such a wonder of engineering. Never before or since has any such project been attempted anywhere in the realms.”

She nods grimly to herself, “A real monument to the greatness of the Pax Felix.”

As clocks chime midnight in the Hub, below the surface, Prime floats in the inky depths. Every moment of her life has led her to this moment and she takes her time to appreciate the milestone.

“Strike where their preparations are meaningless. Never attack in a straight line. Always approach on the diagonal. Never engage their defences directly, when you can attack their weaknesses with obfuscation.” She recalls the lecture from day five thousand and twenty three.

“I didn’t get it at the time. However, I get it now. Become a scalpel, not a club. Act with precision.” She thinks smiling to herself.

“I had originally planned to do this in a few days, but moving it up, will cover the missing Atlanteans.” Mia thinks, pulling out a detonator and pressing the button.

Deep under the Hub, thermite grenades erupt silently, superheating the metal around them and cutting chains seemingly at random.

Prime kicks hard streaking South under the Hub, between falling chains and weights, unable to see what is happening on the surface.



Cassandra feels the earth move and not in a good way. She climbs off of her bed without regard for the man chained spread eagled to it. She reaches the window as the alarms start to blare.

“Impossible.” She gasps, seeing the far side of the Hub reach towards the sky and building all around, start shedding glass and loose stones.

She looks down at the base of her tower and sees waves gently lapping around its base. “How the fuck?” she asks, quickly dressing and grabbing a go bag.

She casts a gaze at her former plaything and blows him a kiss, “It was real and it was good, but it wasn’t real good. Gotta go. Hub is sinking.”

Cassandra marches from her apartment, followed by his screams and garbled pleas.

Despite the apparent emergency, no one blocks her path for fear of becoming her next target. She barges everyone out of the way and steps into the next lift, wordlessly daring anyone to join her as she selects the roof.

She emerges into a scene of chaos, with people scrambling to get to overloaded helicopters before they can depart. She stands tall and fight through the crowd, with merciless abandon, as the ground beneath her shifts.



Meanwhile, below the surface of the sea, the water churns. In some cases ballast plates falls away. In others anchor chains are cut. Whilst in some places chains are cut causing ballast to partially drop, falling away from the centre and swinging towards the outer sections of the hub.

The sudden shift of several hundred tons of weight, changes the Hubs centre of gravity and the whole island shifts, pivoting at the centre, with half the island inexorably sinking below the waves and the other raising hundreds of feet in the air.

With the catastrophic orientation change, any building above the water, over four metres tall, snaps. The sea is a soup of cascading steel, glass and stone, seasoned with screaming intelligence officers.



Cassandra watches the carnage from the calm quiet of the helicopters interior. Everywhere she looks, she sees bodies in the water. Most dead, some feebly clinging to life in this nightmare, their wails and cries a mournful dirge.

She sits back in her seat and sighs, “Such a shame you rebelled Prime, we could have remade the world together.”



Two miles from the carnage, Mia drifts in the current, deep underwater. The vibrations from the devastation of the Hub bringing peace to her.

Flashes of the horrors done to herself and others in the brightly lit faux paradise, play out in her mind like a litany of evil.

She sighs to herself, knowing that at least for now, the once glittering jewel of the Pax Felix is now a shattered and soon to be rusting ruin.

Mia puts her hands together and closes her eyes, saying a prayer for those who will lose their lives today, begging God to forgive them of their sins and allowing them peace in whatever afterlife awaits them.

When her prayer is done, she sighs, letting the blood and chemical stained water flow through her gills, before turning back to shore for the next stage of her plan.

[Caesar73]

The Entry is very illuminating: We see a Tyrant who loses Control - who thinks he has finally worked out all: It does escape him that they forged Mia into what she is. That there is no outward foe.

I wonder who Mia phoned .... we will learn in due Cause I guess.

The View back to Mia´s Training once more show us the depravity of Mia´s Handler to full extent.

Then Back to the Present: Mia wreaks Havoc ....

[wolfman]

Starting with the Emperor, we see his indignation and hubris, where in the training it comes full circle to show that the regimes treatment of Mia, is rhe reason this is happening.

Without her treatment she would have no cause. Without her training she would have no means. This is a fate the regime set in place for itself.

[wolfman]

@Bandit666 @Caesar73 @GreyLord @slackywacky

Imperial Pax Felix Freighter, Veritas, departing the port of Eternus, midnight.

An uneasy silence, descends like a pall over the Bridge, as the captain eases the ship out of port and onwards to its destination. The half dozen lights dancing across the deck do nothing to settle his disquiet.

He glances to the left of the wheel at the photo of his family and shakes his head, “If you knew what I was being made to do, your hearts would break.” He thinks.

Captain Bruj looks around the bridge and knows each of his crew is feeling the same disquiet as he is.

He pulls a flask from his jacket pocket and takes a deep pull. He tosses it to his first mate, who takes a drink, before passing it on. The flask does a full circuit of the Bridge before being returned to the captain.

“Sir?” the first mate asks, uneasily, “Should we be doing this?”

“What else can we do?” Bruj sighs, “We have orders from the office of the Emperor compelling compliance and a company of battle hardened troops stalking the decks of the ship.”

“It’s just not right.” The navigator says, the words bitter in his mouth.

Bruj pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes closed, “I know. But we are but a crew of twenty and there is little we can do against a heavy armed company of legionnaires.”

“Why us?” First Mate Keen asks.

“We are the only available ship that can take fifty containers of prisoners on a long haul to The Hub. Such is the blessing and curse of this ship’s draft.” The Captain says, grimly.

“What will happen to them?” a young ensign asks, nervously.

“At the moment, their only crime is being an Atlantean. If it comes to pass any of them are an actual spy, they will disappear into a hell of pain, never to see the light of day again. For those who are not spies, if they are lucky, they will be ransomed back to Atlantis.”

“What if they aren’t lucky?” The ensign says, immediately darkening the mood in the room further.

The First Mate sighs, “If that is the case, they will be either lost to the sea, or cremated.”

“Poor bastards.” The ensign says, feeling nauseous.

“All we can do is pray for their souls.” Bruj says, solemnly, “And ours.”



Centurion Martini stalks the mezzanine floor, silently observing the floor below. He stands tall, in heavy assault armour, with his helmet removed. This dark hair is close cut with signs of grey at his temples.

His grey eyes scan the hold where the dark shipping containers, sit in darkness. Soldiers with insectile helmets slink silently between them, vigilant for any signs of escape.

He nods to himself, seeing calm professionalism of his troops flawlessly performing their duties, “To a man they are the best soldiers in the empire.” He thinks, sadly, “It is my shame, that I could not protect them from this ignoble duty. They have faced the worst of the realms and triumphed with honour every time, however this is....... repugnant.”

His soldiers wear the same heavy armour as he, composite alloy and Kevlar plates over bullet resistance cloth of Pax Felix design. Ammunition graces several pockets in their webbing alongside grenades and medical supplies. Each carries a Damocles heavy assault rifle and Reaper handgun for good measure.

Like a caged animal, he prowls the upper mezzanine, “There is no honour here. This is a stain on the soul of the Pax Felix.”

He takes a deep breath and rests against one of the many support beams, with his hand on the hilt of his assault rifle. Glancing down he sees the red laser dot on his chest. Pretending he hasn’t seen it, he looks up casually, spotting several Individuals with weapons aimed at him and his soldiers.

Without any sudden movements, he dons his helmet, keys his comms and loudhailer before speaking aloud, “Before a blood bath ensues, let’s be clear on a few things. The weapons you carry cannot penetrate the armour we wear, however, the rounds that ricochet off of our armour, can penetrate the containers holding your people.”

As he pauses, his troops spot the laser designators and raise their weapons to the dimly lit combatants above them.

“With the firepower you have you will kill more Atlanteans, than you do Felician soldiers.” He announces, calmly, “By the same token, you are in an elevated position and my team will find it difficult to engage your forces.”

“So we are at an impasse.” Martini says, in an overly controlled tone, taking a sip from his canteen, “I wish to speak to your field commander, to discuss how we resolve this.”



Everyone in the room holds their breath, waiting, until a lone figure steps from the shadows onto the mezzanine.

Where he is clad in bulk armour, she is dressed in sleek form fitting armour, which shows every contour of her muscled body, with a transparent left sleeve, showing a tattoo of an eye and the names of liberated realms.

He nods to her and in deference, removes his helmet and clips it to his belt. She matches his gesture, making her helmet disappear.

Martini gasps slightly seeing his opposite number, “A young face scarred by battle and weathered by war. Perfect physique and a palpable aura or power about her. Looking at her now, I believe, she could kill me and everyone on this boat on her own, without breaking a sweat.” He thinks, feeling every moment of his forty year military service.

Kim bows slightly, “You asked to speak, Commander.”

“Thank you for meeting with me. I am Commander Martini. May I call you Cyclops?” He speaks respectfully.

“By all means.” She pauses, “Commander Martini of the Operations executive? The tales of your campaigns are a thing of legend and your tactics revolutionary.”

He raises his eyebrows, surprised she knows of him, “As is your liberation of so many lost worlds.”

“Here we are heroes to our respective people, in this most non heroic of situations.” Kim says, trying to get a sense of the man.

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Martini says with a sigh.

“How are we going to resolve this without a bloodbath?” Kim asks, thoughtfully.

“Again. Couldn’t have put it better myself.” The Commander says, softly. “In theory, I could persuade you that a direct battle will slaughter everyone and you leave.” He pauses seeing her confusion, and smiles, “Then as my people have had a hard few days, I would send them on deck for some air and to get some coffee.”

Kim frowns, “In theory, that would leave you very exposed.”

“True.” He says glancing at the containers for a moment, “We have not seen the inside of the containers. We don’t even know if anyone is inside them. If you and your people could get in and out of them without us seeing, we wouldn’t be able to say if they were there in the first place.”

Kim produces a flask and two shot glasses with a flourish, “That would be a tricky one for your people. Why would you suggest that?”

“There is nothing honourable about this night. The Atlanteans we transport, have done nothing wrong. My people do not deserve to meet their fates for this mission and neither do yours.” He says, before spitting as if to clear the taste from his mouth, “I know you only by reputation, but here and now, in this place. I ask you to help me prevent a massacre.”

She pours two shots and passing one to the Commander. Martini takes the offered shot with a nod and clicks glasses with her, before they knock back the ice cold vodka.

“That works for me.” Kim says, thoughtfully.

“I will brief my people. You will not be disturbed. Good luck and Godspeed.” Martini says solemnly, returning the glass.

“You are an honourable man. In turn I honour you with my respect.” Kim says, with a salute before vanishing.



He stands alone and releases a long slow breath, he didn’t realise he was holding, “Erase all recordings. The last ten minutes didn’t happen.” he orders. “Resume patrols and report anything strange outside of the shipping containers.”

Without question, his people follow orders, knowing that he has cheated death once again.

Martini lurks in the shadows and lights a cigar, “I feel like the Angel of Death has looked me in the eye and casually said, ‘Not tonight.’ I have faced insurmountable odds, gone toe to toe with ancient Dragons and Gods, but with one look into her good eye, she scared me.”

He shudders, “I thought the Prime program was folly, a pet project for the Emperor’s ego in light of the Atlantean fours exploits on Babel and beyond. But seeing Cyclops in the flesh, I cannot help but wonder what the wars of tomorrow will look like.”



Respite Facility, Peace Realm, South of the hot springs.

Confused and relieved Atlanteans, gathering in small groups in the field below, discussing the narrow escape that they share.

Kim leans back against a tree and rubs the back of her neck, feeling tired. “What a night.” She says bitterly, under her breath.

Hidden from the view of her clan, she sinks to the ground and sits for a moment, thinking back. “Still have no idea, how Mia was able to call me.”




Respite facility, Peace realm, three hours earlier.

Kim shifts back to her office after her evening realm run. Stepping into the en suite shower, she sets the water to ice cold and highest pressure, before stepping in.

The jet of water blasts her skin and pummels her muscles. She scrubs herself as part of her daily ritual and by the time she is finished, the no longer has any dead skin on her body.

She snatches up a towel and wraps it around herself, letting the warm fluffy fabric welcome her to the close of her work day and beginning of her evening.

Kim dons a black leather eyepatch, with matching leggings and sports bra, before picking up the tablet on her desk, “Meeting with Galton about hydroponic options, then a sit down with Corven about Raptor upgrades. Nice change of pace tomorrow.”

She frowns seeing a video call come in on the tablet, from an unknown source. With a shrug she sets the tablet onto a stand and accepts the call.

Kim settles back on her office chair and ties her hair back, as a blue eyed, shaven headed woman appears on screen. “Can I help you?” she asks, curiously.

“Is this Liberator Cyclops?” The woman asks, with a sense of urgency in her voice.

Kim’s eyes widen with shock, “Mia?”

“Yeah.” Mia confirms, “Sorry to call like this, I need your help.”

“Are you joking? Everyone is looking for you. If you come in, we can protect you.” Kim says, pressing record on the call.

“Tempting, but there is much to be done still. Besides, if I come in, it will cause you no end of troubles, which is kind of why I am calling.” Mia says, her eyes flicking so something behind her camera.

“OK, I’ll bite, what are you after?” Kim asks curiously, trying to read Mia.

“The Pax think I am being supported by Atlantis. They have rounded up every Atlantean on Felix Prime and loaded them onto a ship. They will take them to the Hub, where they will be tortured as spies, to find who I am working with.” Mia explains, looking out over the horizon, “I could storm the boat, but, I have no way to get the people out of the realm. Is this something, you could do?”

Kim listens closely and thinks for a moment before asking, “How many people are we talking? How long is the boat journey?”

Mia nervously chews her lip, “Upwards of a thousand people. Ship departs at around midnight local time, will take around eight hours to get to The Hub.”

Kim watches, fascinated, thinking, ”Her body language is so similar to Niki. Looks wise she is different, but you can see the resemblance in the eyes.”

Kim pours a glass of scotch and takes a slug, “I will need approval on this. If I do this, then that in itself could be proof of you working with us.”

“I know, unless you are able to say that you got a tip before someone was put on the boat or one of your people picked up a lead.” Mia says, almost pleading, “If you will at least try to get approval, that would help. In the mean time, I will deal with The Hub. That way if you’re unable to get them out, the boat will have to turn around and we have a little more time to come up with a solution.”

Kim exhales slowly, “I will make some calls, but I make no promises.”

Mia visibly relaxes and smiles, “Thank you. I won’t ask you to make a promise you can’t keep, I appreciate you not just hanging up to be fair.”

Kim relaxes seeing her counterpart soften, “You’re family. You are one of us and we always have each others backs.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.” Mia says, awkwardly, “Erm, is Kate OK?”

Kim chuckles, “She was a little pissed at you for leaving her tied up in a jungle, but she has calmed down a bit now.”

“Oh God, did she find the knife alright?” Mia asks, wide eyed.

Kim cannot stop laughing and nods, “Yeah. Managed to avoid getting humped by a sloth and then freed herself.”

“I feel so bad for leaving her. I hope she understands.” Mia says sadly.

“She is cool.” Kim says, gently before exhaling slowly, “Niki would love to hear from you.”

“I would like that too.” Mia says, caught off guard, unable to prevent tears well up in her eyes, “However, once this is done, I am not sure she would want to see me, after everything that is to come.”

“Let me come to you. I can bring you in.” Kim begs.

“Thank you Kim. However, when all the dust settles. The Pax Felix will be irrevocably changed and to preserve the standing of Atlantis in the realms, I will probably be dead.” Mia says, smiling weakly, “I am a soldier of the old world. There is no place for me in the new.”

Before Kim can speak, the screen goes blank, plunging the room into deafening silence.

She sits staring at the screen for a moment before, composing herself and calling the King’s Chambers. “This is turning into one of those days.”

[Caesar73]

Honestly? I do not know how you pull this off @wolfman - one incredible chapter after the next. This was one of Contrasts: It started on the Bridge of the Ship. The crew is uneasy about the Duty they have to perform. Then switch to Centurio Martini who finds his "Duty" conduct unbecoming of Elite Soldiers. Enter Kim. Their Parley. Another Switch to Mia and Kim ....

This Chapter tells us a lot about the depravity of the Emperor, the Spirit of his Soldiers, who have more honour than him.

[wolfman]

@Caesar73 thank you for your very kind words and comments, bith now and over the years.

In any war, there are heroes on all sides. History may judge some with pure hearts and motives to be heroes or villains, depending on their side. This chapter was about right thinking and moral individuals, forced by circumstance to partake in evil plans. Contrary to the movies, most people have a level of decency and honour.

Here we see Commander Martini choose to take the high ground to protect his people and the Atlanteans in their charge, at risk to himself.

We also see Kim step into the role of leader in a very different way than ahe has before and at the same time also being true to herself and offering support to Mia.

This was a hard chapter to write asI didnt want to detract from Mia, however, I am very please with the way it turned out.

[Caesar73]

@Caesar73 thank you for your very kind words and comments, bith now and over the years. [...]]
This was a hard chapter to write asI didnt want to detract from Mia, however, I am very please with the way it turned out.

My Friend it was and it is an honour and a pleasure. You created a very special World and follow your Characters on their Journey is always fascinating. Centurio Martini is a Hero in this Chapter - I do like this Character and you captured him well.

I absolutely belief this was no easy Chapter to write. But as it frequently turns out? The Reader cannot see that. And yes @wolfman it turned out really really good.

[wolfman]

Thank you for ypur kind words my friend.

Often in my tales there is a focus on the family and those around them again faceless and nameless foes, i wanted to change it up a little for this arc. Whilst there are numerous mooks who fall, there are a few characters with a bit more to them. Martini is one of those.

[wolfman]

@Bandit666 @Caesar73 @slackywacky @GreyLord

Midday, Felix Prime, two days later, Senator Aphis’ Memorial Procession

The air was a buzz with anticipation. Crowds lined the streets to honour the procession of Senator Aphis. A procession that would see almost eighty five percent of the military in ceremonial uniform parade in the streets.

But make no mistake, this is more about a show of force and display of the might of the Pax Felix empire than the honour of a fallen Senator.

Preparations have been made. Uniforms cleaned and ironed. Chrome and steel polished and all there is now, is the event.

It starts with a low sonorous voice carried on the wind, throat singing a dirge. Then the first thunderous crash. Two hundred thousand soldiers take their first step on this march.

The ground shakes and the air ripples. The crowd gasps, seeing the first red and gold legionnaires hove into view, ceremonial swords at their waists and spears against their chests.

The air shudders with the roar of fighter and assault helicopter engines overhead. Aircraft laden with firework style armaments more for spectacle than utility on this, the most sombre of days.

The city gleams, every marble wall polished and every brick painted white. A facade. All for show to tell all who watch of the prosperity here. All a lie.

The people line the streets. Not for Senator Aphis, but for the promise of a crust of bread to fill their empty stomachs that night.

Carnos sits on a throne overlooking proceedings. Immaculate White robes, topped with a crown of gold and diamonds. Surrounded by toadying Senators and those who seek favour.

This was never about Aphis. It was always about the Emperor. His power. His glory. His legacy. His vanity.

Carnos reclines on his throne, eyes flicking to concealed snipers and smiles maliciously to himself, “The trap is baited, you traitorous little bitch. Come for me and find oblivion.”



Mia opens her eyes slowly, letting herself adjust to the dappled light, through the water. Gently she unwinds the kelp that wraps her curled up body, before she stretches, cautiously for a few moments.

Without warning she kicks for shore. Powerful legs and arms pulling her effortlessly through the water, like a torpedo. Almost absent mindedly, she plucks a fish from its course and devours it.

She smiles to herself, emerging from the surf, rested and sated. Ready for the day ahead. “It all comes down to today. All the pain, planning and preparation up to this point, leads to now. Time to end this.”

Rising from the water like a Wraith, she crosses the beach silently and digs up the bundle of equipment and weapons, she stashed the previous night.

As she sits under a rocky outcrop, cleaning her gear, she clears her mind, to attain the focus she will need for the day.



The Sniper assembles their rifle with measured precision. The .60 calibre Remus Sniper rifle can normally engage targets at up to four thousand metres away in the right conditions. However, with the current load out, range is somewhat reduced

Today, conditions are almost perfect. The flag set up near the target area flaps lazily in a five mile per hour wind. The heat haze, seen through the scope, prompts a two click adjustment, then all is ready.

The Sniper rolls away from the weapon and reviews the shot profile.

Single high value target. Just over one thousand metres distant. One shot required. Once target down, evac to realm egress. Eight possible routes scouted and several more available to account for ad hoc adjustments.

“Main problem is getting away clean, even with the options at hand it will be hard to evade everyone without bloodshed.” The Sniper, thinks off handedly, before checking their watch. “Shouldn’t be too long now.”



Crouching among the eves of the cathedral at the heart of the city, the Custodian watches, dispassionately, with her one good eye. “Everything points to Mia attacking the parade somehow.” She surveys the thronging crowds gathered and shakes her head in dismay, “It will be a Massacre. My one chance is to stop her before this starts.”

She checks the shotgun once more before extending her senses, the fear, hunger and dread of the people washes over her leaving her with an unclean feeling, whilst the thoughts of the soldiers focus on boredom, obligation and getting out of their ceremonial uniforms and back to real work.

Every mind is open to her and she senses the trap laid for Mia, feeling the thoughts of the snipers and Emperor, “She will be cut to ribbons before she takes two steps. I can’t allow this.” She thinks, nervously.

On and on she searches, probing all minds before her until she probes the mind of a small child on the Western edge of the city, far from the parade route.

“She sees someone, who isn’t there as far as I can sense. I can’t even tell if it is Mia. Probably a trick of the light.” Kim thinks, watching the target through the child’s eyes as they enter a small abandoned building. “Even if it isn’t her, it’s worth checking out.”

She picks up the weapon and considers calling for support, before shaking her head, “No. We are not supposed to be here at all. It is bad enough that if I am caught I will be treated as a spy.” She exhales slowly, “At this stage there is nothing to report. I will verify if it is Mia, then call it in and wait for back up.”



Kim shifts to a rooftop overlooking the abandoned building and takes a moment to observe, “All quiet so far.”

In her minds eye, she sees the layout of the structure and dons a Sheath with a flourish, “Narrow corridors, low ceilings, rotten floors. No place for bulk protection. I go in light, Sheath and Arrester.”

After a moments consideration she stashes the shotgun in favour of a CAP pistol and stows the helmet, to allow her to tune in to her surroundings better.

Unseen by the crowds nearby, she shifts into the foyer of the building, which appears to be an old sewage pumping station.

She stands perfectly still, listening, tuning herself into the regular sounds of her environment. The low hollow sound of a breeze through an upstairs window. The tick of wood expanding in the midday sun. The low buzz of flies, feeding on something unseen in the floors below her.

With agonising precision, she advances, taking care to avoid every loose floor board or easily knocked hazard. “I can’t sense Mia, so will have to search the old fashioned way.”

The ground floor, is mainly offices apart from an old locker room, the problems come in the first basement. Inching forwards, a board creaks beneath her feet and Kim freezes, listening for other noises in response to her breaking of the silence.

Kim stands completely still, feeling a single bead of sweat trickle down her cheek. Then almost imperceptibly, she feels a breeze on the back of her neck and the faint scent of seaweed.

Forcing her body to relax, she exhales as she spins on the spot to face the source of the scent.

She can barely react as a thick, slick, sticky cloth is slapped across her face, covering her mouth, nose and eyes.

Kim reaches out to her sisters with psi and finds nothing there. She tries to remove the cloth with a flourish, but the magic escapes her. The flourish to bring a knife to her hand, yields nothing. Everything she tries fails.

Dropping her weapon, she claws at the smooth rubbery material sealing her face. Panicking as her fingers find no purchase on the material. She tries to scream with what little breath is in her lungs, finding her cries stifled by the strange cloth.

Blinded, she flails desperately clawing at her face, her lungs burning and her mind swimming.

“Fuck. Not like this.” Kim thinks reaching into her boot for a knife. She begins hacking at the material, but it refuses to yield to the blade.

She screams in frustration, wishing she hadn’t stashed the spider silk blade Anya had given her.

Lungs burning, her senses begin to swim and her legs buckle under her. Her attacker watches, concerned as her prey’s struggles, become less focused and more feeble, until she finally stops moving.

“Easy now. Just relax and let it happen.” Kim’s attacker whispers, exhaling slowly.

[Caesar73]

Magnificent. The Procession. Thrilll. Suspense. Kim coming to aid Mia was a surprise. But who is Mia´s Captor? Splendid Cliff Hanger.

[wolfman]

Thank you for your kind words. Up until now, we have seen the pieces, soon we will see the whole and Mia's plan in its full form.

In the mean time, Kim's fate hangs in the balance.

In Mia's game there is much to play for.

[Caesar73]

In Mia's game there is much to play for.

Yes, so much is clear. As always you web an intriguing yarn.

[wolfman]

@Bandit666 @Caesar73 @GreyLord @slackywacky

Kim gasps sharply and jolts awake. She coughs harshly and breathes deeply, as she begins taking stock of herself and her surroundings.

She feels the tape wrapped tightly around her hands, forcing them into fists, just as tightly as the tape wrapped around her arms, from her wrists to just under her armpits, forcing her arms together behind her back.

A quick attempt at flexing her legs confirms that her calf muscles are pressed into the backs of her thighs by more tape wrapping her legs, forcing her to kneel.

However, the worst realisation comes when she looks up and sees her clothing, Sheath and Arrester, neatly placed on a table above her current position, leaving her naked save for her eyepatch.

She squirms and fights the tape that binds her, however she is stuck fast. Magic that could free her is frustratingly beyond her grasp and she settles back to save her energy.

“OK I am not dead, so that is something. However, there is no way, I am getting out of this any time soon.” She closes her eyes and tries to remember what happened. “Mind you, I have been tied well and am certainly not going anywhere. However, I am not gagged. Maybe whoever did this, knows there is no point screaming.”

“One minute, I was in the sewage plant and the next, I was blindsided and had something stuck to my face, stopping me from breathing.” Kim shudders, “I didn’t see anyone, it was like a ghost, or maybe Ali. Never been jumped like that before.”

Her eye begins adjusting to the gloom of the room and she begins looking for anything that might help free her, “No windows and a single door. Old table in front of me, a couple of chairs and an old looking filing cabinet that might contain something useful, but nothing obvious.”

Hearing a noise the other side of the door, she closes her good eye and slumps down as if sleeping.



Mia takes a nervous breath and opens the door to the former office. She smiles, with a sense of relief seeing Kim slumped, but breathing easily.

She sets down a bottle of water on the table, with a bag pulling out a camping lantern.

Mia reaches down and puts her hand gently over Kim’s mouth, until Kim opens her eye. She looks down kindly at her prisoner and asks, “Will you make a fuss?” When Kim shakes her head, Mia removes her hand and offers a drink from the bottle.

Kim leans forward and takes a sip, whilst appraising Mia, “Five feet eleven. Lean, hard muscle. Black cargo pants and tank top, with steel capped boots.” Taking another longer gulp she continues, “I don’t need my powers to sense she is a predator. I feel like a mouse trying to crawl out of a tiger’s mouth without waking it.” She stops her thoughts for a moment, looking at up at Mia, “Every inch of her screams controlled power, although, it’s odd that she has a tan line just below her left elbow that seems very sharply defined. Thought Kate might have mentioned that.”

“Thank you.” Kim mumbles, leaning back against the wall.

Mia chews her lip and then her body language relaxes, “I am so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be sorry, just let me go.” Kim says with a shrug, knowing the response.

“Sorry, I can’t do that. There is much to be done and I can’t risk you interfering.” Mia says, unable to look Kim in the eye.

Kim takes a deep breath and decides to take a chance, “Look, we know you are going to attack the parade. It is not too late to stop. You have done enough. Those who took you are all gone. It is over.”

Mia smiles with a look of mild surprise, “You have no idea, do you?”

Kim looks up confused, her mouth hanging open, “You aren’t attacking the parade?”

Mia shakes her head and sighs, “No. It’s a means to an end. A distraction, not a target.”

Kim cocks her head to the side and frowns, “So what are you going to do?”

Mia snorts a laugh, “Nice try. I have seen that film where the good guy, tricks the villain into revealing their plan.”

Kim shrugs, “Can’t blame me for trying. For the record, I don’t think you are a villain.” She twists her arms against the tape to no avail, before huffing, “I get you needed to tie me up, but did you have to take my clothes?”

“Quickest way to make sure you weren’t concealing anything. Plus, it gives me a psychological advantage, as I have clothes and you have the vulnerability of being naked.” Mia explains, matter of factly.

“Says you. From my perspective, I am tied up and naked, on my knees. You could do anything to me and I wouldn’t be able to stop you.” Kim fires back, warily.

A mixture of anger and betrayal flashes in Mia’s eyes and she clamps her hand over Kim’s mouth, tightly pinning her head to the wall behind her, “How dare you? Do you know what they did to me? Do you really think me the type of monster who would take advantage of another?” she says with a mixture of horror and disgust.

Kim breathes fearfully through her nose, staring at her captor. She sees a look of genuine dismay place across Mia’s face for a brief moment, before returning to it’s normal calm.

She tries not to let the pain of Mia’s grip show, however, feeling her jaw creak from the pressure, she whimpers.

Mia focuses and realising what she is doing releases Kim’s face and stares at her hand. Eventually she breaks the silence in the room, “I’m sorry Kim. That was unnecessary. I would never hurt you or your sisters.”

Kim sees Mia hang her head and slump down, sitting on the floor. She thinks for a moment and then painfully shuffles next to Mia, leaning again her arm, “It’s OK. I am sorry too. I wasn’t thinking. Kate only told us what you told her.”

Mia hesitates, then puts an arm around Kim, “They made me into a weapon. Then they strapped me to an exercise horse and assaulted me. Then when I became too swollen and sore, they cut new holes to use. That was the first day, of my Carnal Warfare training and the only day, I will ever put into words.” She swallows, bitterly, “All in the name of making me a better soldier. Now they are all dead and all the research files are gone.”

“If that is true, you can be free, now.” Kim whispers, feeing a strange sense of comfort from the embrace.

“You would think that. But the Pax is always looking for the next great tactical advantage. They create a weapon, they test it and approve it, then they create better armour to withstand it, then a better weapon and the cycle continues. Sooner or later they will either come for me or someone like me and start again. I cannot allow that.” Mia says, sadly. “There is no UN out here in the realms. The closest we have is Atlantis.”

“We can help.” Kim says, gently. In that moment, she wishes she were unbound, so she could reach out and take some measure of her cousins pain away.

“A path is set before me and if anyone affiliated with Atlantis helps, accusations will be abound that Atlantis motivated and supported my actions. It will start a war. This begins and ends with me. With everything that is about to happen, the only way this ends is when I am dead.” Mia says, choking back a tear.

“What do you mean?” Kim asks, sensing a change in Mia.

“A new beginning for the Pax and peace for me.” Mia says cryptically.

“What the hell are you going to do?” Kim asks, fearfully.

Mia takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling, “Shortly, I will leave. I will go to the largest grain warehouse in the district and after disabling the guards, will throw the doors open. So that all who subsist with hunger in their bellies, will go hungry no longer.”

Kim can only watch as Mia slowly rises to her feet. “Please don’t leave me like this.” She asks, calmly.

Mia closes her eyes for a moment then hangs her head, “I am currently suppressing your ability to use magic. Once I am gone, your powers will return after a time and you will be able to free yourself.”

“Don’t do this. The streets are lined with snipers and they are looking for you.” Kim says, almost pleading.

Mia smiles, “That’s why I came here. Free access to the sewer lines, I can enter the city or escape to the sea completely concealed. They won’t see me before I enter and at that point it will be too late.”



As Mia starts to leave, Kim has a realisation, “Bullshit. This is not about grain. What is really going on?”

Prime stops and turns, weighing up her options, “You have said, all you planned to say. You could walk away.” She takes a breath and thinks, “Someone needs to know the truth. Everything I am responsible for, so no one else gets blamed.”

Mia looks Kim in the eye, thoughtfully, “Do you really want to know?”

Kim senses the subtle sense of reticence, in her cousins voice and pushes aside her fear, “Yes.”

Prime leans back against the wall opposite Kim and rubs the back of her neck, “A few days ago, I planted a number of specially modified flashbang grenades, in strategic locations across the realms. Each device is small in itself, however, is packed with a particularly nasty isotope, with a half life of a thousand years. Don’t worry though, I am immune.”

Kim’s heart lurches and her head begins to spin, “You can’t.” She says breathlessly, “You could kill millions.”

“Steady on, Kim. I said strategically.” Mia says with gentle smile and a wink, “Upon detonation, what do you think will happen?”

“I don’t know.” Kim struggles to remember the local procedures for a national emergency, “Depending where they are, I guess an emergency meeting of the Emperor and Senate would be called?”

Mia nods graciously, “Exactly. A closed session under lock down conditions, which once it is unlocked, has a time delay of thirty minutes, before it opens.” She sighs, “Only thing is there is a problem with the air supply for the chamber.”

Kim can only watch in horror as Mia continues, “The main duct bringing clean air from the coast has been laced with a particularly virulent fungus, fed with my blood. Those in the chamber will show signs of respiratory distress after around three minutes of exposure. Respiratory failure and organ shutdown will take another ten or so minutes. By the time the chamber is reopened, everyone will be long dead.”

“You are insane.” Kim whispers, softly.

“That is what they will say, but with the Emperor and Senate out of the picture. The people will have a chance to be free.” Mia says, calmly.

Kim shakes her head, subtly trying to fight her bonds “No, they won’t though. The military will take over and it will become a police state, possibly with tighter laws. It will make things worse for the people here.” She pleads.

Mia winks, “Steady on, Kim. I said strategically. The devices are planted in every military armoury and will irradiate every weapon and round of ammunition held within them.”

Kim stares at Mia in open mouthed shock, “Oh God. With most of the military on parade in ceremonial gear, they have no field weapons. The military would be de-powered in an instant.”

“That was my plan, when I killed Aphis. All the people need is a chance at freedom. This gives them that chance.” Mia says, gently.

“Ah.” Kim exclaims, seeing a flaw, “But not all units are in the parade. They could be rallied and deployed to quell uprisings.” Kim says, thinking aloud.”

“True. The only problem is that The Hub is the heart of military and civil comms for the whole realm. Or rather, is was.” Mia says, calmly.

“I can’t let you do this. There has to be another way.” Kim says, as she hears a soft beep from Mia’s pocket.

Mia nods to herself, “Time I was going.” She reaches into a pocket and pulls out a clean microfiber towel, “Sorry about this.” She apologises, balling up the towel and pushing it into Kim’s mouth, stuffing her cheeks and pinning her tongue down.

She holds it in place with a hand, while she snatches up the remainder of the roll of tape. With care not to trap too much of Kim’s hair, she wraps the tape tightly around her cousins mouth, covering the lower part of her face.

Mia gently hugs Kim and whispers softly, “I am sorry about this.” With a look of sadness, she checks Kim bonds. “I wish things were different.”

Mia sighs, and puts her face in her hands for a moment, before looking Kim in the eyes, exhausted, “This is the only way.”

Kim screams into her gag in frustration and hot tears begin to flow down her cheeks. Mia gently brushes her tears away and kisses Kim on the cheek, “I don’t think you will see me again.”

With that Mia gathers her things and turns off the light before leaving. She closes the door behind her, feeling each of Kim’s cries cut her like a knife. Wearily, she pulls a small box from her pocket and punches a code into it.

She stares at the box for a moment, then closes her eyes and pushes the button on the front. “It is done.” She thinks with a year in her eye, before walking away from the door.

Kim screams incoherently for her to come back and stop this, but it is no use. Mia is gone and no one can hear her, as she lies helpless and alone in the darkness.