Children of Terra

~Waylaid and off the path~ ~Between Los Angeles and San Diego~ ~Tucked in eroded ranges, best left forgotten~ ~Vykan, outnumbered~ Vykan was following the old highways when he could, with the main problem of such being the pursuit vehicles. It appeared as though Militech deployed mother-rigs with launch trailers for drones, armament batteries, or all manner of off-road pursuer-craft. Bikes, sand rails, ATV's, explosive RCC's. Roads were decided against after a day or so of that. Too permitting to the hunters. And while Vykan had more than once commandeered a vehicle for himself, it was inevitably remote shut down by the overhead satellites always in geostationary. Very not cool.       They were days off course now, pushed into the old Peninsular ranges slightly inland of the coastal skirt of California. At least there was a positive -- the rough country limited access to Pruflas' insane family. Vykan no longer had to deal with fully armored chase vehicles, the largest craft now were sand rails. And, it turns out having a magic air-defense demon hard countered the more troublesome air support, that would've been otherwise sent to suppress the pair. The thinking wasn't about gaining some huge advantage or anything. It was simply to bleed the opposition of resources. Cost a hell of a lot more to Militech to fund this than it did Vykan to run.       And so, he was hiking in the Palomar mountain region. A good activity for the body. Slipping between pines as he clambered, he found it interesting to see how November treated these lands. Ice packs were present in the shade, and small shanties of long-gone hopefuls were plentiful all around. So many people fled the old world, evidently. So many grave markers and dead dreams. Vykan was catching his breath in one such intended campsite, hiding in a converted c-train container.       It was actually immaculately well done, furnished and lived-in. Must've taken the builder's entire savings to do this out here. All the work it must have been. He allowed himself a moment to stare out of the common room window, to the rolling hills of snow-touched high-altitude trees, rock outcroppings, and vegetation in between. Life itself continued on, it was the human population that was sundered. What happened?       Pruflas had been staying in his mind more and more. The demon gave the reasoning that he could think without much distraction, and this was true. It's not like he could be shot while in the co-pilot seat. As Vykan kicked his feet up in a recliner, he felt the sensation of the demon coming about.       What happened, is mostly radiation. While the worst is gone and will always be gone, even altitudes this high up were dusted by the poisons a time ago. Bombs not meant for just destruction. Bombs meant for generational denial. Dirty bombs. The fallout was so bad that one of the first things the megacorporations did was recombinant weather control -- firing chemical reagents into the stratosphere to capture air-radicals. Didn't do much about the topsoil. But that was decades ago now. General rule of thumb out in the wastes is to avoid washes and areas where erosion settles.       Vykan relaxed into the chair to take that in, before getting up and setting out again. Let's go. Memories are best left to the past. I was never a part of the dream laid here.       Pruflas didn't reply. He couldn't. The id was roiling too much for him to distract from it.       The sounds of motorbikes could be heard in valleys past, which meant the hunters were in a parallel line and either bearing straight for the Stygian, or away. Vykan huffed, glancing at the love poured into this small patch of earth. And then to the skeleton lying sideways in the front garden. How many millions have a story like that? How many billions?       As he set out along animal trails to more and more remote country, Vykan felt a twinge of regret.       He shouldn't have given his heart to Stygia. He should have given his brain. ~Deeper along the mountain skirts~ ~In the Palomar range~ ~Where shadows hide things best left to memory~ ~Vykan, stumbler~ Vykan was off the side of an animal trail, hidden among granite when a motorbike cruised by. Then more. Chatter from the helmets was indistinct, but nearly constant. They were following his footprints, which was fair. What they didn't figure was him doubling back. He was peering from the upside of the mountain trail, in the shadow of some large boulders as they sped down the path. Too close, fellas. The first was decapitated by the long-set trap line -- courtesy of Pruflas -- head almost comically flying flat forward to a grind against the ground. All but two shared the same fate; instant decapitation as they traveled too fast and too close to one another.       The last two in the pack wiped out, unable to turn so they dumped the bikes and rolled off the trail. By the time they were recovering, Vykan was already on them. He had the first down on the ground, his now-cleansed xiphos digging deep into chest while the other was hobbling for the trail rifle still holstered to his bike. Pruflas fired a magic bullet from behind the shoulder, puncturing center mass out like a paper punch. Fairly noiseless. Not bad. Pruflas spoke from within.       If I know my brothers enough, they'll cut losses soon. We've regained too much momentum. I would expect an indiscriminate strike of some kind, or they'll imbalance themselves in the world. Too much competition to leave an exposed back open any longer on this game.       Sunk cost fallacy, huh? Vykan got up from scavenging, having taken actual underwear for himself. The Duke had shown himself the past days a wonderful traveling companion; able to provide mobile services like washing and bathing as necessary. Like cleansing the clothes off dead people. Vykan had also taken a pure white shirt as well, being the best for sunlight ablation, and thus coolest in direct light. Kept the rugged Grecian sandals, though.       Using the Palomar peak as a navigation tool, they placed between it and the Laguna Mountains; hugging the northern Palomar with Laguna to the south. How Pruflas knew all this was beyond Vykan.       I actually pay attention to the world around me, Vykan.       Vykan would have retorted with sarcasm, but he truly did make an effort to stop. So, he simply sighed as he trekked along the trails, coming to within view of some minor wash and divergence points. He was scanning the area when the Duke continued.       That's not a natural wash. Mine tailings. Let's see if we can't find the source and use it to shield from the satellites. Ground-penetrating radar shouldn't be able to isolate us in a deep mine. Perfect.       You'll have to guide me, Pruflas. We're making a left here?       North-west, but yes. See the erosion patterns along the trail there? There was a hand cart once. Ripped up a long time ago, but still obvious.       Vykan didn't agree, but he also wasn't some learned genius like the Duke of Limbo. He was on the new course for a while, following cues and guidance. Tucked far up the southeast body of Palomar, they were within a small crevice before too long, high shoulders of rock on either side. Nondescript to the Stygian, but Pruflas was getting excited.       Collapsed mine head straight ahead. You can tell by the way gravel forms a perfect gradient up the wall face. See how the overhang undersides are less weathered than the stones around? Excellent! Come on!       Hm. Well, I see it now . . . Vykan walked forward, pulling his hands through the gravel. He didn't notice that Pruflas had ejected until a hand was on his shoulder.       "I can help here. Step back and watch the magic."       Vykan chuckled as he tossed some gravel chunks behind. He took a place a couple feet away and watched as the Duke began to ease the great mass of earth away from the entrance with invisible ease. The duke coaxed the tonnes of soil and sand into an overhang, then turned over his shoulder to smile at Vykan. The Stygian nodded back, speaking: "I take it you like magic when used for things like this?"       "Yes, actually. So many ways for the betterment of life, and I don't think my brothers use it much, for other than the subjugation of people. Come on. We waste time."       Vykan stepped forward and into the decrepit mine tunnel. The air was rank, stale, and felt; wrong. He hesitated.       Pruflas had followed, packing the soil into place and reinforcing to make it all the harder for pursuers. He placated. "You don't need oxygen, that much is obvious. It's the fact you're susceptible to radiation; which means poisons and toxins as well." Pruflas nodded to himself, stepping to in front of Vykan. "I'll lead, and purify the air. Stay close." He began walking, before stopping again. "Oh, you can't see, can you?"       Vykan hummed. "No. I have only the Stygian blessing." While that was true, seeing the duke turned backward showed a minor detail about Pruflas he didn't know before. The demon let down the masquerade when it was just them, and his yellow eyes glowed. A soft hum just to himself as he followed the aether mote; incandescent like a jellyfish stinger in the otherwise dark mine tunnel. ~A while before a stop~ Pruflas had been silent for the walk, his step bouncy as though pleased at the turn of events. Vykan shared that sentiment. It was good to finally shake the eyes in the sky. What the hell were they gonna do about the rest of the journey?       This was thus until the duke had stopped suddenly. Vykan focused on the behind of the duke's head, looking for body signs. He spoke after a moment. "What?"       Instead of answering, Pruflas knelt down, staring at the floor. It didn't look out of place to Vykan, but he knew better. He looked back in the mine shaft, where nothing past the light of the mote made itself known. Pruflas spoke up after a bit. "There's a false wall here. Unless my sense of direction has been turned; this tunnel will take us directly east, away from Palomar." He began running his palms along the tunnel wall, until he closed his eyes. Probably using magic. Vykan stood by. This wasn't his forte.       The duke breathed in, offering elaboration. "This is conglomerate. It's done very well to match the mine composition, but it's just a face over a metal door." Pruflas channeled magic into the earth, brute forcing the sealed entrance. The sound of metal security bars sliding into position could be heard in the tunnel, before the false wall split open in two, revealing the addition to the mine. Vykan noted just how clean the break was, how smooth the bearings were that they swung with no sound. Serious money was here. What have we just found?       The air that joined from this new tunnel was cooler, and stung with the bite of chemical recycling. There were newer rail lines on the ground, which was also packed far more neatly and orderly than the antique tunnel Vykan was still in. Professional. Non-corrosive metals for the lines, soil hard-packed for stability. The Stygian cast his eyes up, mote following as though bid from will. The walls were smoothed. If he wasn't sure, he would have guessed -       "Did someone come through and smooth the walls by hand? Even if it was a crew, by the Rings . . . " Pruflas was staring down the tunnel, far beyond what Vykan could see.       "The whole way?"       Pruflas turned back, yellow eyes and their slits highlighted in the dark. "As far as I can see."       Once Vykan stepped through, Pruflas sealed the false doors again, reinforcing them so that the next opening would have to be forced. The duke looked to Vykan, who simply shrugged as he followed. ~Down the tunnel new~ ~A long damn way~ ~Easily miles~ The distance was a bit of shock to the both of them, how far they had been and yet still going. They were definitely past the Palomar uplift and into at least foothills if not flat lands. No way to tell from inside the tunnel; at least without stopping. And that was something the duke abode by: go fast with evasion. There would be no stops for such matters. That said, the duke knew he had more stamina than Vykan, and turned around to ask about it.       Vykan was doing deep breathing, forcing whatever the hell powered him into his lungs before he replied. "I'll manage." He followed up a while later. "You're impressive. I don't even see a hint of sweat on you."       Pruflas nodded. "I run on aether. Technically vitae, which is the transmuted variant. Think crude versus gasoline. I just happen to have had eons to gather it into myself."       Vykan didn't reply. Just followed. Followed the tunnel as it drew on and on. He looked at the shining rails, and wished he was on a cart. Pruflas gave the reprieve he needed after a while.       "I see the end. Deposits to another door. Not false at least, but it looks that power to the facility has been gone for a long time. Nothing a pinch of aether can't solve."       'Ah.' Vykan resolved to do more cardio on the way. This was intolerable. He put his back to the smooth stone, relishing as it wicked the heat from his core while he watched Pruflas finagle the sealed door open. Hermetic from the construction, but long since derelict. He looked down at his body, finally having gained control over his breathing before the duke called for him.       "We're in. It looks to be a decon corridor, no surprise there. Place looks scuttled, but orderly. Neat piles for document disposal. Come on."       Vykan eased himself up and walked inside. The mote danced through the air after his scanning gaze, highlighting beyond the observation glass either side of the entry hall. It was a sterile place, ceramic looking walls that were likely dampening. To prevent outside signals getting in. Places like this never bode well. Vykan shook his head at the sound of Pruflas opening the end of the corridor. The next room appeared to be security. Weapons still lined racks, riot gear in lockers. He walked over, taking one of the uniforms from a hanger. Running a finger over the epaulette, he noted the organization.       Pruflas noticed the same thing from a different place. His night-vision allowed faster scanning of the area. "West Tek. A subdivision of. I believe they were a defense contractor formed back in the 50's. Part of McCarthy's legacy. We know them today as one of the pre-merger companies of Militech." Vykan was looking his way, walking over to rejoin. Pruflas continued down the hallway, making for a marked staircase behind more hermetic doors. "If I remember right, West Tek specialized in wartime subcontracting. Working on mechanized infantry, a lot of the theorems for laser applications . . . and biochemical research." He had opened the doors in the mean time, moving from the lower command level to the next higher one. "We might be able to find something damning to my brothers here."       "I hope so. Hate it here."       "Scared of the dark?"       "Scared of humanity."       They were exploring the next level, which appeared to be secured testing from the amount of smaller observation rooms and reinforced glass. A bench with a long-dusted glass of once-water vibrated, breaking the otherwise silence of the place. The mote ripped from left to right to follow Vykan's gaze to the noise source. Pruflas took a breath.       "They're getting desperate. Probably shaped charges to blast their way in. If we can feel it, they likely found the false door. I reinforced it fairly substantially. That means the mine probably collapsed. And if it collapsed . . . "       Vykan could see this one. "Unless the hunters are dead, your brothers sent some serious borgs. You've got a toxic family relationship, don't you?"       Pruflas laughed. "I haven't seen them this agitated in a thousand years. I like to think that's you more than me."       A playful exhale. "What'd I do?"       "You're a charmer. People just seem to love you."       "Thanks."       They had reached another hermetic door sealing a decon corridor. Pruflas opened it, sealed it after Vykan followed, and opened the other side. It took a fair bit as Pruflas made sure to give it extra binding magia. Once they were past this hallway, a second, closer explosion could be heard. Below. Many unsecured objects hopped around, and dust kicked up from nearly every surface. So quick!       "War-borgs. Yeah, this got serious. I can only act within my reflex range, and those guys are chromed way past standard. I'm hopping back in." Pruflas vanished.       Vykan continued down the hall, peering into side rooms. Plan?       Be yourself. They might even lower their guard seeing just you. That's the best time for me to strike.       Vykan exhaled. He drew his 2011, compulsively checking the mag level. Topped off. Then the chamber. Hot. He exhaled again, slow. Nerves are getting me.       Relax. I'm here with you.       Let's hope 'they' don't know that.       He was off a side room when the third explosion thrummed the complex. Fucking A. Are they heading straight for me?       Likely. Pheromone tracker, DNA scanner. No, thinking too much. Footprints in the dust. Dammit. I should have wiped those.       Vykan opted to hunch down in an observation room, facing inward to the main hallway when the fourth explosion shook his core. The barely muted blasts felt to be just on the other side of the decon corridor of secured testing. Many of the glass beakers, vials, and jars had shattered on the ground by now. He could feel the heightened blood pressure beating in his veins. Adrenaline panting. ~Moment of truth~ The silence offered just one split-second advantage. Vykan heard the electronic signal before the fourth explosion. Not enough to do anything, as the explosion ripped out the hermetic doors like a microwave lid and tannerite. The blast pressure forced Vykan down into a pain wince, and the borg was already fucking on him before he could re-brace on the door sill. His eyes widened, pulling the 2011 up to bear, when the mostly-machine man backhanded him. Straight through the holding room wall. The 2011 skidded far across the room.       He gasped out as his brain was rattled, vision swimming. The deep tramping of the borg told him he was fucked before he could even get off one knee, and it had him by the throat. Vykan was lifted clear off his feet, grabbing at the metal arm uselessly. He could see out of the corner of his vision a whole team of these monsters.       Oh fuck. Vykan . . .       The borg pulled him close. Those mechanical eyes performed a function before the thing spoke. Inhuman tones. "We've got your face now, ugly fucker." The left arm shicked as a hydraulic needle sprung from the palm. It brought the needle savagely into his gut, which winded Vykan out. His arms went limp, barely holding on anymore. The borg retracted the hand, looking at the bent needle. "Fancy skin. Good thing we got other ingress points." The mechanized drawl was dread-inducing on its own.       The borg dropped Vykan, and caught him by the arm before he even hit the floor. It pulled his right arm around him, horrifically shattering his shoulder and elbow like a twig. He screamed as he was forced on the ground face down, metal foot planted firmly on his ribs, cracking them. "Fiona. Needle's fubar. Would you be a dear?"       Vykan, I can't do anything. These fucking things have us pinned.       The Stygian couldn't perceive the words.       The borg designated Fiona stepped from the pack. "My pleasure." Mechanized female voice. Dripping with intoned hatred. She grabbed his shattered arm from the first, pulling it up to make him squeal in pain, before flipping him over, belly up. Her own metal leg forced down, nearly blowing his intestines apart from how hard she crushed his core. She yanked his arm as he hunched in pain -- blood wetting his mouth as he was groaning. "Protocol says I should squirt the sedative in your mouth. But this is potent stuff. I wonder if it'll work through the eyeball . . . "       As though a hive mind, the first borg clamped Vykan's head in an iron-crushing grip. At this point, adrenaline had him back from hysterics, and he was shaking. "What? Don't. Don't do this. I'll go quietly! Just - "       The female borg had none of it. She stamped his gut again, winding him and breaking a rib or two. "This is the best fucking part of the job, bitch. No where does it say 'cargo untouched.' Now be a good fucking rat and squeal." The palm-needle was brought to his eye before he could think next. It didn't puncture. It forced the whole eye into his orbit. He was hysterical from the pain, shouting. Thrashing and kicking as she forced the needle deeper and deeper, he was held in place by the first; before the second borg checked what the fuck was happening. "The hell? The eyeball's ganic. What is this?"       "Well, if we can't sedate him, let's just fucking break every bone in his body. Turn him into a fucking nugget. Come on, boys. Pick a limb." Without letting go of Vykan's head, the rest of the pack chose a limb.       "Wai - "       They stamped in unison, flattening the Stygian's limbs in hydraulic crush. It appeared the worst part of the blessing revealed itself then. He wasn't unconscious. Vykan was exasperatedly screaming, throat given out. It was a hoarse sounding noise that delighted the borgs. Not like they could feel the pleasures of much else. While tramping his limbs to make sure they could absolutely not be used again, the first borg forced his head over to watch as his body was mashed into putty. The skin didn't break, so he looked like an inflatable tube man with his jellied limbs flopping. By this point Vykan was near catatonic, and that did not delight the borgs.       "Too fast with it. Should'a kept the torture slow. Aw well. Maybe they'll give him some shit prosthetics."       "That body was unusually hard, right?"       "Yeah, Surprised you didn't yank his arm off."       "Right? I could've sworn I popped his guts, but there he is."       "Goddamned creepy how the limbs are. Shouldn't they have popped like grapes?"       "Whoever came up with that RealSkinn is gonna be rich . . . "       The first grabbed Vykan by his long hair and began dragging him through the halls, the rest of the pack following behind in abrupt order.       Pruflas quietly ejected. He gathered magia in his palms as he prepared a sneak attack, when the borgs all whirled at once. What fucking sensor arrays! The duke had to bail to the side as mounted gun systems popped port and riddled the old lab. From within a side lab, Pruflas heard them chatter.       "The other target. Good. We get bonus pay after all. Watch the exits. You and you, encircle. Watch out for that cloaking device. Good enough to fool us."       His teeth were grit so hard his gums bled. He wasn't primary target! How could he have been so fucking blind! Of course they wanted the anomaly!       The duke was preparing lightning in his hands when a grenade tinked off the wall and toward him. He transported back into Vykan on instinct. The explosions -- more than one -- ripped the labs where Pruflas had just been, blowing glass and fragments all into the hall.       Team leader called out in its inhuman drawl. "Got him?"       A moment before a reply. "No."       The first borg holding Vykan's catatonic body gave new orders. "Flush out the whole building. We don't need him alive. Just proof." The rest of the pack went room by room, throwing grenades in, which was the easiest thing to do. Explosions began rocking secured testing, room by room, until the leader dropped Vykan's body.       Pruflas was watching from in Vykan's mind, wracked at himself but focused on his hatred to these things that still lived. What happened?       The leader spoke up. First to the borg next to him in the decon corridor. "Stay here. Watch the target. In fact, put a foot on it; keep that conniving fuck from whisking it from under us."       "Boss?"       "Fiona just flatlined."       What?       Before Pruflas could figure out what was going on, the first borg changed its mind. "Alan's down." Chattering into the comms, it updated. "Scuttle it! We're leaving with primary! Now!" Signaling by hand to the sentry in the corridor, the borg began a jog out. "Pick him up and go. We'll be executed if we fuck this up."       The other borg hasted to follow orders, grabbing Vykan's body and strapping him to a back harness like some overgrown meat bag. Pruflas was torn between everything happening. What the hell is happening?       Next was team leader. The pair of borgs were fully sprinting down the secret tunnel out when team leader just fell over, as though dead. The underling looked back once at the limp metal, before continuing. It didn't make it to the mine shaft either, pitching forward like its systems were given out in sabotage. Pruflas was just about to eject and bring Vykan out himself, when the Stygian suddenly vomited blood. A lot. He went still, blood sieving from his nose and mouth.       The next thing Pruflas knew, he was in an ocean. Cerulean. It was calm here. Like he could just forget it all. What am I doing? Where's Vykan? Why can't I move? Vykan?!       Pruflas tried to move around, but he was anchored still. No, that wasn't quite right. He could feel his body drifting on the currents. His mind went somewhere after a while, the strong emotions muted in the sea's calm. West Tek. Chemical and biological testing.       Their name was in papers a while ago. The 80's? That's right, I remember now. They experimented on human subjects.       Pruflas tried one more time to move. Nothing.       What the fuck is happening? Where are you, Vykan?