Broker-Chapter 227

Above the widening melee, above the flames that Kerauna stirred with her ceaseless storm. Ishtar looked down from within a weave of illusions upon the heroes and cultists facing one another in battle. The cultists had formed up within what appeared to be a well disguised single-story fort. The walls glowed faintly as gunfire from the hero side peppered it. Ishtar narrowed her eyes, Pandora Committee soldiers, I suppose even Carla understands the purpose of fodder troops. She frowned, Or is she misguidedly expecting the majority of them to walk away from this? If so, that’s tragically foolish.

A pair of heroes raced out from within the ranks of the soldiers, both of them she recognized. The first was a young man with steely-gray hair and a tight-fitting shirt that revealed his bare arms. The second was a young woman with black hair and off-white eyes. Magnus and Crane, Ishtar observed. Magnus threw his hands out, pivoting to the right and turning his entire body with the movement. The bullets flying in the direction of him, his comrade, and the troops behind them, seized in the air before whipping around with his turn. An instant later, they were returning to where they’d come from.

He threw himself forward and landed with his palms on the ground before wrenching his entire body up, fingers coiled. As he did, Crane drew a sword from her hip, swinging it with a series of blinding flashes, and deflecting rounds heading her way as her comrade worked. She didn’t stop moving, on a clear collision course with the wall before it ripped itself from the ground, an entire portion hurtling into the air before falling back down with a sharp change in momentum. It crashed into a small group of the cultists as Crane hopped over the wreckage and began her dance.

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A clump of trees exploded to Ishtar’s right and she tilted her head, observing a new addition to the battle. A group of poorly dressed and equipped men were waving weapons and laughing wildly as they charged into the fray. Not heroes. Ah, Villain’s after the bounty. I’d almost forgotten, she thought with amusement as two of them were gunned down immediately, by a startled band of cultists. There’s probably more of them causing trouble. I wonder if Graff will make a showing, she thought before turning her attention towards a different clearing that had formed in the forest. A flash of yellow-gold light flared up within it followed by a burst of golden flames.

She tilted her head forward and sneered, There you are…

–

Blackrazor slid across the ground, slithered along the walls and crept across the ceiling. A living shadow. He did not know the floorplan of this place, which was less than optimal. Normally he would have memorized every corner and recorded every guard pattern before inserting himself like this, but circumstances did not permit him such luxuries. He could only make do. He knew what his targets looked like, they were somewhere in this place, he just had to find them.

“Dame Song, we have everything set up for you ma’am,” a voice came from a nearby room, making Blackrazor slow his movement. He drifted towards the door and wrapped his mercurial body around it, listening through the surface.

The only response to the words was a wordless grunt of affirmation that seemed to come from a young woman. Dame Song? Not a primary target, but I should deal with her before moving on, Blackrazor thought, sliding down to the ground and becoming a puddle of murky black, he slipped beneath the door and spread out, casting himself across the small room that looked not unlike a recording studio. There were several cultists sitting behind control benches and a single woman in drab clothes holding onto a microphone. Her eyes were glowing with coppery light.

“Just a little bit longer, ma’am,” one of the cultists said, “The body count hasn’t reached the right levels yet, Liberty wants you to use your ability at the appropriate time.”

The girl in the booth turned and shot them a glare, her lips parted and two of the men reached for what looked like high-end earmuffs, pulling them over their ears. Blackrazor knew danger when he saw it and cut off his senses from the outside world for a moment, diving deep into the shadow sea. When he resurfaced, one of the men at the booth was dead, his ears bleeding and rot spreading across his skin. Dame Song turned away with a huff as Blackrazor took a look around, How best to attack? Perhaps-

The wall behind Dame Song dissolved, crumbling before Blackrazor could make a move. The dust that was kicked up swirled and it looked like a person was taking shape inside of it. The two cultists hopped to their feet but not before there was a squeak of pain and the dust dispersed. Dame Song was hanging by her neck, held in the grip of a blonde haired man with lean muscle and an almost bored expression on his face. His cold eyes took in Song for only a heartbeat before he spoke, “You the necromancer chick?” he demanded.

Dame Song squeaked again, reaching up to grab at his hands. She kicked her feet, striking his chest but he didn’t even blink. He tilted his head as her lips opened and she whispered something. The skin on his face grayed, the veins turning black. He frowned, reaching up to touch it curiously before it abruptly flaked off and new flesh grew in its place.

I know this man’s face, Blackrazor thought, A villain. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the two cultists grab their weapons and one grab something that looked like a hand trigger. He darted across the ground and leaped out of it like a fish from water, knives drawn. Violet blades slipped between vertebrae and two corpses fell to the ground. Blackrazor looked up from the bodies to meet the man’s gaze as Dame Song turned to dust.

“You are Graff,” Blackrazor said.

“And you’re one of Ishtar’s, right?” Graff grunted.

“How did you get here without alerting them?” Blackrazor asked.

“That’s my fuckin’ business,” Graff said with a grin and rubbed his wrist, “Bitch’s power hurts,” he spat on the ground and tilted his head up a bit, looking at Blackrazor over his nose, “You tell your boss that we’re even now, got it? I want to be left alone. I ain’t her friend and I ain’t gonna come running. My boys are off the hook too.”

Blackrazor frowned, “You do not command me or my mistress,” he said and pointed his weapon at the man.

Graff grinned, “That’s what she’s into, huh?” he laughed before his smile turned into a scowl, “Don’t press your luck, kid. I can tell you’re top dog material, one of the badasses,” he raised his hand and pointed it at Blackrazor, “But you got a long way to go before you survive me. Give your boss my message, go it?”

Blackrazor tilted his head forward and gripped his knives tighter, I can’t tolerate his rudeness, but I’m not fool enough to fight him. Even the Pandora Committee puts him on the Mistress’ level. My mission is more important. He lowered his weapons and nodded, “I’ll deliver your message, whether she accepts is her business.”

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“Figured you say that, she knows better than to piss me off, though,” Graff growled, “I’m done here, killing that brat should have been enough. Later, edgelord,” he sniped before his body began to dissolve from head to toe, the last thing Blackrazor saw of him was his raised middle finger.

Blackrazor scowled before turning away, I know he’s a villain like us, he thought as he dissolved back into a shadow and slipped beneath the door again, But I really want to kill that man.

–

Crusader snapped out a kick, sending one of the bigger cultists flying. She pivoted back a step, maintaining her momentum before driving her weapon into the ground and taking a stalwart stance. Her shoulder set, her eyes forward, she let her aura spread out across the clearing as her comrades went to work. Gold flames danced on the skin of friend and foe alike. A flicker of movement behind her preceded a small back pressed against hers. Gunshots rang out, but she didn’t look back as Snow covered her.

“Shouldn’t you be hiding?” Crusader asked with the ghost of a smile on her face.

“Do it when I find a half decent place with a good view,” Snow shot back with a hiss of static.

Not far away, BLF’s arm stretched out and grabbed hold of a pair of cultists. He turned in place, throwing his back into the movement before he hurled them bodily into the air, “Thanks for the heals Crusader!” he shouted. An instant later, Harbinger landed a few feet from him and kicked off the ground, throwing herself like a missile towards another squad of cultists that had charged into the clearing, weapons raised. She collided with them, swinging her hammer with all her eight feet of might. The air between her weapon and their group froze for just a moment before exploding with terrible force, scattering them like bugs.

Crusader smiled to herself, She doesn’t seem hung up, that’s good. Hang in there Cass, today it ends.

She turned her attention to a pair of men charging her way and frowned, raising her head up as she felt heat on her neck and along her scalp. Her eyes burned and a terrible avian warcry split its way through the din of battle. A hawk, wreathed in a halo of golden flame streaked down from the sky. One of the men dove out of the way while the other was cut across his torso and arm, he staggered back only for the bird to right itself and flap its wings, incandescent flames catching on his gear. He let out a scream and dropped to the ground, trying to roll it off.

Crusader firmed her heart at the sight, This is war, she reminded herself, This is nothing compared to what they did to Tokyo.

Alphonse, the glowing hawk, flapped his wings again and darted over to land on her shoulder, raising his wings and letting out another cry of warning. No one would approach her while she used her powers to aid her allies. She smiled at him as the second cultist staggered to his feet only for a flash of yellow light to bloom at his back. His eyes rolled up into his head and he fell onto his face. Behind him, Otis stood with his sword slung on his shoulder.

“You didn’t need to follow me,” Otis said, “Better to cover more ground.”

“We’re going the same direction,” she said, “It’s not a problem, is it?”

He shrugged, “Of course not, just figured you’d want your own chance to take down a few of the big bads, not gonna get any challenging fights with me around.”

She laughed and shook her head, “You’re a crazy man, Otis.”

She didn’t notice his lip twitch as he reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, “I’ve been called worse, now! Let’s get a move on! We didn’t come here to deal with foot soldiers, right?”

Crusader pulled her sword from the ground and nodded at him, she raised a gauntleted hand and threw it forward as more Pandora troops arrived to join them in the clearing. He was right, it was time to move on. Given how much headway they were already making she was feeling optimistic. The elite teams with the Guildmaster and her teacher should have arrived at the main part of the compound by now. All they needed to do was support them with all their might.

She smiled, “Right! Alright everyone! We’re pushing-”

DOOOOOOOOOOOM

It took her breath away.

It felt like all the air had been pushed out of her lungs.

Like a boot on her neck.

Like an ice cold knife in her spine

In just a single breath, it felt like a mountain had landed on her. A weight so terrible it drove her gasping to her knees. The colors of the world around her seemed contrasting, scratchy, distorted. Her fingers dug into the soil beneath her, tearing at the little tufts of grass. She coughed as that overwhelming feeling crushed her. It was unreal. Unholy. Impossible. It took her hopes and dreams and courage and ground down upon them like it was trying to turn them into powder.

It’s so… cold, what’s happening? She barely managed the thoughts before she forced her chin up, to look for her friends. Harbinger was on a knee, trying to pull herself to her feet with her hammer. BLF was half way pushed up off the ground, straining to rise. She felt Snow’s trembling hands as they clung to her armor. Her eyes turned towards where Otis had been standing and… still was. He was on his feet, looking up at the sky, his sword held out to his side.

She followed his gaze, her vision blurring now and then, flickering, like static on a television

White armored boots.

No.

Gleaming white armor backed by a cape of flowing silver hair.

Why is she here?

An unfeeling faceless helmet and two blazing pink eyes that bored down on her with ruthless malice. She felt something rise up and she heaved, coughing and spluttering as animal terror scratched at her instincts. Her basic, lizard-brain desire to survive, to live, her natural sense of self preservation, going back throughout every stage of her genetic history, back to humanity’s most primitive senses. Awareness of death. This was death. This person was an inevitable demise.

“Hello, little heroes,” the voice was so much worse in person. A hissing rasp through the helmet. It sounded like someone dragging a slick knife against ice. It sent a chill up her spine. “Ishtar is here!” the supervillain declared as Crusader’s vision swam. She clenched her jaw and concentrated only to realize that the movement of her mana had been stalled. She shuddered at the thought that this person’s mere presence could do that.

She grit her teeth so hard it hurt, I need to stand!

She forced here internal energy back into motion, punching the earth once before letting out a groan of effort as she forced herself to her feet. She panted and glared up at the wicked woman hanging in the air above them.

“Ishtar!” Otis laughed, “Finally!”

Somewhere nearby, someone let out a horrified shriek. Crusader looked to see Riot on the ground, pushing back like a child as he shook his head at the person before him. “No, no no no, no oh no, what am I looking at?!”

Crusader turned back to Ishtar and clenched her fists, raising her weapon to point it at the supervillain, “Ish-”

“Crusader, Snow, B L F, and Harbinger,” Ishtar said dryly, “Riot, Felwinter, and…” she let out a sigh of delight, “Otis.”

Crusader froze, she tried to move herself to stand between Ishtar and Snow who was still recovering behind her, “Yes. I know your names, I know your personal histories, I know your strengths, I know your weaknesses,” Ishtar declared, “Most of you anyway,” she added with a cruel laugh as the unforgiving pressure suddenly lifted from Crusader’s shoulders. Behind her she heard Snow start coughing.

“Don’t you ignore me!” Otis roared, “We have a score to settle!”

Crusader glanced at him, What? She looked up at Ishtar who was staring straight down at him.

“Yes we do,” Ishtar said mildly, “It’s about time we had our first tussle, as for the rest of you” she said languidly before slowly turning her tyrannical gaze on Crusader, they locked eyes, Crusader felt a chill run up her spine. The enemy of the world’s heroes' eyes flashed as if she was savoring their moment of terror, “Run.”