Authors: Stuart Meczes
“Ballsy, I like it.” Zero flicked the consignment for good measure and nodded. “Right, you should use this time to rest up and get prepared.” He shouted across the pub, and the barman glanced up. “Do me a favour, Minoro, and give this lot a room for a couple hours. Good rate.”
The barman nodded, “They can have the attic room for one coin. I’ll throw in four Blackheart beers too.”
“That’ll do.” He turned back to me. “It’s not a great room, but it’s somewhere to put your heads for a while until I come and get you.”
As he finished speaking, a booming voice came from everywhere at once, speaking first in Qi’lern, and then a variety of other languages.
Warning residents and visitors of Concavious, the Freeport City. A powerful storm has descended on the area. Any attempt to leave the city until it has passed risks death, and thus you do so of your own volition. Thank you and have a good day.
Zero pointed at a small speaker, hidden among the copper pipes that lined the ceiling. “As I said, storm. Anyway get some rest, you all look like you’ve been through the wars.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” said Danny.
“And I don’t want to know the full of it either. I’ll come back in a few hours. Go speak to Minoro, he’ll sort your room out.”
The mercenary gave a final nod and then left the pub.
*
The attic room was a dusty, cramped thing up two flights of crooked stairs. It had three lumpy cots bunched together, a sink basin, and a sofa that belonged on a rubbish tip.
“This is me,” said Delagio as he threw himself down on the sofa, crossing his winkle picker boots on the arm and placing his Stetson over his head.
“God, it’s hot in here.” Hollie threw her things down on the rightmost cot and then climbed onto it, shuffling over to the only window in the room and popping it open. The muted sounds and smells of the city poured through the opening. “Huh, there’s an old set of stairs right here,” she said.
“Probably so people can make a quick getaway from Lawbringers,” said Danny, flopping down onto the cot and making its springs squeal. “This place has got a real Wild West vibe to it.”
“More steampunk, in my opinion,” said Hollie lying down and tucking a thin pillow under her head.
“What’s a steampunk?” asked Danny with a frown.
“Dude, you don’t know what steampunk is?” added Delagio from under his hat.
“No.”
“It’s like Victorian industrial, but a bit more modern,” explained Hollie. “Steam powered tanks, zeppelin airships and clockwork cars, that kind of thing. Basically how the world would be if the Victorian era had kept going, and steam power and mechanics had continued together instead of getting replaced by modern electronics.”
“I’m confused, is that an actual thing?” said Danny, with a look of confusion.
“No it’s a concept. Like in books and films. But if it was a real thing,” she raised a lazy hand and pointed a finger at the window, “Concavious would be it.”
“Okay, that’s pretty cool I guess,” said Danny with a big yawn.
“Oh just shut up and go to sleep,” groaned Hollie and chucked her pillow at his face. “Actually give that back, this mattress is awful.”
Danny laughed and threw it back to her before settling down and closing his eyes. It wasn’t long before all three of them were fast asleep, Danny letting out muffled snores from a face squashed into his own pillow.
I turned a valve on a copper pipe descending from the wall into the sink, and water spluttered out. After smelling and deciding it was clean enough, I drank a few handfuls, and then cooled my neck and forehead. Felling refreshed, I turned the valve back off and mopped my face dry with an old towel, marvelling at how such a small action could make such a big difference. Before lying down on the cot, I unsheathed Crimson and placed it next to my pillow. Then I settled down, trying to wriggle my body into the spaces between the hard lumps of mattress.
When I was relatively comfortable, I unzipped my jacket and pulled out my Biomote, changing over to the vocal-link screen. I tapped Gabriella’s name and pressed down to receive. As usual, nothing but the hiss of static poured through the receiver.
“We’re coming to save you all,” I whispered. “Just hold on.”
Still there was nothing but the rush of static feedback.
“I love you, Ella.”
I switched off the link and returned the Biomote to my uniform, and then closed my eyes.
Sleep took me in seconds.
*
The eerie, primordial music woke me.
Rain pattered down on my face, tapping against my eyelids until I parted them. I blinked up at the red sky, which swirled around a dark vortex. It was the same as the one that had settled over Chapter Hill, preceding The Sorrow’s arrival on Earth.
The Red Storm.
Something was pressed against my hand. I curled my fingers around it and bought it into view. It was a Reaper Mask, the bronzed faceplate styled with decorative flourishes and ancient symbols, and a thin line where the mouth would have been. The mask had been scorched so badly on one side that it looked completely black. I turned it over and my stomach tightened in revulsion when I saw the charred flesh that filled the concave space. I threw the mask away from me and then used my aching limbs to push myself into a sitting position. As I stared groggily around, the rain continued to beat down on me, soaking my hair and sending cold beads of water dripping down my neck. I saw that I was back in the ruins of Chapter Hill, the buildings collapsing in on themselves and leaking water from broken pipes. But there was something different about the mountains of rubble this time. They were darker and glinted in patches, as if hiding precious jewels. I glanced down and let out a gasp of horror as burned masks, incinerated robes and charred bones filled my view.
“What the hell?”
I scrambled to my feet and stumbled backwards, breaking the brittle bones and masks under my step. What surrounded me wasn’t hills of rubble and mortar.
They were mountains of dead Reapers.
“This isn’t real. None of this is real,” I told myself.
Then why the hell does it feel so real?
I scrambled over the sea of dead bodies, trying to ignore the repulsive crunch and crack of their scorched remains as I climbed up a steep mound to get a better view. The detritus around me was so brittle and loosely stacked that it felt like I was trying to move up a set of crumbling stairs. I had to keep every movement as light as possible as anything heavier shifted the remnants beneath my boots and sent my leading foot sliding from underneath me. As I forced my way upward – sending an avalanche of skulls and masks tumbling down behind me – the eerie music continued to play, tickling my mind like melodic feathers.
I finally managed to break to the top of the sinister mountain and stared out across Chapter Hill. The view was sickening: a field of dead Reapers covering the area as far as the eye could see, as if the whole region had become the mass grave for an entire species. As I stared out I saw a familiar figure standing on another hill of Reapers in the near distance. The person was wearing a shimmering Reaper mask, but I instantly recognised the flowing black hair that whipped out in strands as the breeze tugged at it.
“Gabriella,” I shouted, my voice echoing out among the destruction, followed by the cracking sound of a few Reaper skulls as they came loose from the masses and tumbled down the hills of death. Gabriella pointed upwards at the tormented sky, where I saw a mass of colossal shapes swirling beyond the dark clouds, and heard them release guttural roars. Gabriella lowered the gesturing hand and then hooked her finger towards herself, beckoning for me to follow. A moment later she turned and jumped off the pile of bodies.
If this is a dream – or even a vision – then I have control of my abilities.
I closed my eyes and slowed my breath, willing the switch to come. After a few moments I felt the shift inside and snapped my eyes open. I launched myself off the pile of bodies, my footsteps feather-light as I sped along the top of the Reaper mound, not dislodging a single remain. I crested the next hill of bodies and flew over the top, sliding down to the bottom like a pro-surfer. Gabriella still managed to stay ahead of me, her body shimmering and jerking forward, like a CCTV image on time-lapse.
I kept rushing after her, moving like a streak of light through the body-littered ruins of Chapter Hill. When buildings came close, I jumped up and sprinted along their sides, before jumping to adjacent ones, never disturbing a single brick or piece of wood.
The music got louder as I chased the bizarre masked version of Gabriella through the town and towards the bridge from my previous vision. This time, when I reached it, there were rows of dead Reapers bowed down on their knees in reverence. Unlike the ones piled around the city, they hadn’t been burned or ripped apart, but had simply died from exposure, their bodies decayed to yellowing bones and rusting masks. I reached out and pulled one of the masks off, the sound like paper tearing. The skull on the other side had only two eye sockets and then a blank section of smooth bone from that point downward.
“Just what the hell were these things?” I said, dropping the mask to the ground.
Looking up, I saw Gabriella standing at the threshold to my house. The door was open and a bright red glow poured out from behind her. I rushed along the bridge, feeling it start to break away underneath my feet once again. Glancing over my shoulder I saw the whole of Chapter Hill tearing itself apart, and all of it – including the countless remains of the Reapers – was vacuumed up in a tornado of bone and brick, towards the Red Storm and the creatures beyond.
I broke through the threshold and the door slammed shut behind me. This time I was surprised to see that I wasn’t in the weird pit area, but rather back in the Reaper Archives, standing in front of the Blood Veil. Dozens of versions of Gabriella and I were stood in ranks, weapons drawn and facing the shimmering wall, ready for battle. The masked Gabriella was standing, facing me in the central aisle of space between our doppelgängers. My stomach knotted as she slowly removed the mask, but underneath was her beautiful, smiling face. She held out her hand and walked towards me. I reached out with my own, and as we connected she guided me around to face the Blood Veil. A single Reaper had been blocked from view behind her, kneeling down with his arms stretched out towards the portal.
See and understand,
she said in a soft voice.
We walked between our doubles, towards the pulsing red wall. As we did, our doppelgängers started a low chant.
We are the first. We are the cycle.
The Blood Veil reacted to the words, swirling around itself and releasing long, slick tendrils that snaked towards the waiting Reaper. The celestial music had become so loud it was almost deafening, trying to drown out the chants of our counterparts. As we kept moving closer, the chanting grew louder and more ferocious.
WE ARE THE FIRST. WE ARE THE CYCLE.
The tendrils wrapped tightly around the Reaper and started to drag him into the Veil; he started to struggle, trying to prize himself away, but it was too late. The Veil had him. I winced as I heard his bones snap under the enormous pressure of the tendrils, and a deranged, soul-searing sound came from within his mask.
See and understand,
said Gabriella, gesturing towards the Veil.
For a long while nothing happened, and then slowly a gigantic form emerged from the crimson wall, like a demon emerging from hell. It was a figure I recognised well. Dark armour covered in spikes and ancient symbols. Arching horns. A sword so big it was almost the same length as a person. A metallic mask secured by old straps, abyss-deep eye sockets, and vertical slits where the mouth should have been. I saw and I finally understood.
The Sorrow had once been a Reaper.
*
I woke up gasping in a pool of my own sweat. My head was swimming and I felt so nauseous that I could feel saliva rising up into my mouth. I opened my eyes to see thick smoke swirling around the attic room and panic hit me.
The pub is on fire!
I tried to sit up, but my body wouldn’t respond. Confused, I tried to wiggle my fingers, but it was as if my brain had forgotten they were connected to me.
It’s just sleep paralysis, that’s all…surely.
That theory went out the window when I strained my eyes to the side and stared at the others. They were fixed rigid in their sleep, their arms pinned down at their sides in a way that made them look dead. I tried to shout out at them, but my voice just emerged as a garbled moan. A moment later I realised that I couldn’t smell smoke, but rather a sweet and sickly scent that was so strong I could taste it at the back of my throat.
This isn’t sleep paralysis. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I speak?
It was like when I’d first had my Awakening and I had been paralyzed on my bed, whilst Gabriella and the other Guardians had come to collect me.
Once again people came to collect me.
The window was kicked in and I saw four gas-masked figures climb over the sill, landing next to Hollie on the cot and then jumping down onto the floor. As they moved through the thin mist, I recognised the numerous belts and holsters, and the trademark leather trench coats they wore.