Spires

2.5



Now

Cal sat at his office desk. He pulled up an overhead map of a mostly wooded area, framed by mountains to the north and northwest. He knew from his research that the rest of its boundary was sealed in by a very strong and very tall wall, which was also electrified. The place was roughly pentagonal in shape. It covered almost 300 square miles.

It was the site of an Encounter Challenge in the early days of the Threnosh’s apocalypse. Since they, as a race, didn’t find much use for the wild spaces of their world it had gone unnoticed. As they knew now that meant it turned into an out of control Spawn Point. It had spewed monsters that took a grave toll on the nearest population centers before the Threnosh were able to fight back and seal it behind a wall that was under constant surveillance and armed with automated defenses.

That was enough to keep it mostly contained. Only the strongest monsters managed to breach it and were immediately met by Threnosh soldiers.

However, there was a developing problem. Such breaches had been increasing in the past two years. The Threnosh were finding it harder to respond. Add in the end of their ten year initial phase, which heralded the incursions by singular angelic aliens from the Dominion of Immortal Joy and Light and even the extremely conservative Threnosh realized they needed to change their framework.

“I’ve been super busy with the T-Men, so I didn’t have a chance to really dive into this place. Which is why I’m glad you’re here, Tides. So, tell me about it.”

“T-Men?” Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337’s frown was practically imperceptible. The interrogator, who was not actually functioning in that capacity any longer, was in many ways a victim of their successful handling of Cal’s interrogation sessions, at least in Prime Custodian 3’s eyes.

“It’s nothing, just a working name for the project and team.” Cal waved the question away. “Please continue.”

“Very well.” Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 gestured at the holographic projection. “Designation: Spawn Zone 315349. Adequately contained by the wall and automated defensive measures. Primary invasive organism,” they tapped on their PID attached to their power armor gauntlet and brought up a still holographic image and several recordings of the monster in question. “Designation: Invasive Organism 1417. Bipedal, segmented body, strong carapace composed of fibrous substance consisting of polysaccharides. Unable to withstand standard ammunition. Biological redundancies enables it to function for an average of twenty seconds despite suffering catastrophic damage. Exhibits reactive camouflage capabilities when at rest. Three known variants. The standard one displayed and two others.”

“Wait a second.” Cal took control of the projection. With deft swipes and pinches he focused on a smaller recording and enlarged it. “Dear god, that’s terrifying.”

Invasive Organism 1417’s head, face, resembled that of a sleeping human woman. It was like death masks and coffins of old queens and princesses carved in their likeness. It was a mask that hid the terror beneath. It split open to reveal the monster’s true face. Bulbous, segmented eyes and a maw of sharp mandibles and what looked like jagged teeth. As call watched the recording it tore the front half of an unfortunate Threnosh soldier’s face right off. The metal of their power armor helmet might as well have been made out of paper.

Cal cringed. “How can you not be affected by this?”

Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 stood straight without apparent concern, as if he was watching a report on projected weather patterns instead of a frightening monster in action. Some of which included killing and devouring others of their race.

“I do not understand your query.”

“Never mind, show me the other types.”

Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 brought up two more holographic images to accompany the first one. “Classified as heavy variant. Significantly thicker carapace and strength increase at the cost of speed. The third is classified as aerial variant. Membranous wings allow for limited flight capability. Thinner carapace, less physical strength.”

Segmented bodies, chitin carapace, a pair of scythe-like claws. It looked familiar. The bipedal multi-jointed legs threw the picture off. Made it truly scary. “It’s like a person combined with a praying mantis… weird that a lot of these things are humanoid,” Cal frowned. “What else might we run into?

“Organism 1417 is the primary threat. There are also small number of altered native organisms.”

“Any idea on the location of the core?”

Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 zoomed the map to an area of about 10 square miles. It straddled the region where thick forest met mountains. Right in the middle of the entire range. “Surveillance of invasive organism 1417 movement patterns indicate seventy-three point five six two three percent accuracy that the core is located in this area.”

“Any way we can narrow that down?”

“Not without more penetrative scouting measures.”

“Alright, I guess that’s what I’ll be doing tomorrow.”

“You will go by yourself?” Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 inflection remained steady, but their eyes widened a fraction.

“Just to scout. I think this spawn point will be a good proving ground for the team. Might even have the chance to clean it out completely depending on how they progress.”

“Will not cleansing it eliminate a resource to farm, as you called it?”

Cal shook his head. “Our facility is located in the middle of like five different out of control spawn points. I don’t get why you guys put it here in the first place.”

“The Collective determined that your interrogation was to be conducted in this isolated area to protect from potential contamination,” Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 said flatly.

Cal snorted. “I guess that didn’t work out like they thought.”

“What shall the special candidates be tasked with in your absence?”

“Practice and working on their power armors with the fabricator and engineer. I sent instructions to everyone’s PIDs. I’ll be counting on you and Loaming to make sure everything goes according to plan.” Cal looked at the still images of the monsters. “Oh, one last thing. We are going to re-designate those things. We’re going to call them Mantisors. The regular one is just Mantisor. The big one is Mantisor Brute and the one with wings is Mantisor Flier.”

Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 stared at Cal without blinking for what seemed a long time, which he knew was pretty normal. They blinked a lot less often than humans. The time stretched on noticeably longer until the interrogator final spoke. “As you command.”

“Riverport, got my gear ready?”

“Yes, Designation: Honor.” Fabricator Riverport 11725 directed an automated cart over to Cal.

“Nice,” Cal said appreciatively as he ran his hands over the minigun modified with a handles and a trigger for him, similar to Caretaker’s, but without the need of a gimbal-mounted attachment to an exoskeleton.

“Two thousand projectiles are already loaded into the carrying case, which I modified as per your vague instructions.”

Cal nodded absently as his eyes drifted to the dark metal object that suspiciously resembled a camping ax. “Is that…?”

“Yes, again to your specifications. The ax was made with our densest metal alloy. However, I must inform you that its weight will make it unw—”

Cal picked up the dark gray ax in one hand and gave it a few experimental swings and chops. The smile on his face grew wider. “Now, this takes me back. How’s the edge retention?”

“Adequate.”

“I guess with how heavy it is and my super strength the sharpness won’t be that critical,” Cal nodded. “Thanks, Riverport.” He tucked the ax under one arm while throwing the large ammo pack over one shoulder and picking up the minigun with his other hand. “I’ll let you know how they perform when I get back.” He walked over to the flying van that was waiting to take him to the spawn point.

Just over fifty miles to travel gave Cal a little bit of time to think. His new weapons led him to think about his old ones. The trusty camping ax that lasted a surprisingly long time before it finally gave its last against a tough foe. The impractical and impossible hand cannon that had him feeling a little bit like a video game character. That gun he lost against another foe, one that he didn’t need to be thinking about, so he shut that off quickly.

Thinking of the past led to thinking of his family, loved ones, friends. He didn’t know what was worse. Not knowing if they were still okay while he was a world away. Or the knowledge that the day he was able to see them again was also the day that they would be exposed to wonderful visitors like Zalthyss, an angel that apparently ate people for power.

“Shit, how the fuck can cannibalism be a super power,” Cal muttered. “Double shit, if the Dominion are all angel-looking assholes then half the world might sign up on the spot.” He groaned. How could he have just realized that possibility? He was too distracted. Maybe he was emotionally off-balance?

Soon enough the pilot signaled that they were over the target location. A thousand feet over the center of the suspected core site of the spawn point.

The mantisor fliers couldn’t truly fly. They glided and performed wing-assisted jumps. They had been recorded reaching heights of five hundred feet straight from the ground. A thousand felt safe just to be sure.

Cal got the distinct impression of malice and hunger coming from the forest below. “Why are all monsters the same?”

“I do not understand the query, Designation: Honor,” the pilot said.

“Just talking to myself,” Cal said.

“I will await you at the designated site to convey you back to the facility.”

Cal had ordered the pilot to wait outside the wall at the main southern gate. He wanted to see what it was like traverse the area on foot. It wouldn’t have been a proper scouting mission otherwise.

“If anything dangerous happens you get out of there,” Cal said as he strapped the cumbersome ammo pack over his back. He checked to make sure the ax was secure at his side and gripped the minigun at the ready. “I’ll contact you if anything changes.” He opened the side door of the flying van with a touch of his telekinesis and jumped out into bright daylight.

Cal slowed his fall at the last moment and landed with a thud. There was no super hero landing with the bulky pack on his back.

The first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. Nothing at all like a proper forest. No animal calls, no rustling of small critters through the brush. Just a bit of wind through the leaves. For all intents and purposes it appeared as if he was the only living thing in the place. His telepathy told him otherwise.

They were there, around him, converging on his position. Mantisors.

“I’m not too sure about that now,” Cal sighed. “Mantisoids? Mantisorians?”

The first group came at him from behind, but he was already spinning around. Just like the barrels on his minigun.

Human-like masks suddenly opening up to reveal an insectile face. Cal was glad that there was nothing quite like 2000 rounds a minute to turn nearly anything you wanted into a fine mist.

Firing the minigun by hand was just as awesome as he expected. Unfortunately the monster density was a lot higher than he had projected. A couple of minutes and he was dry. Piles of mantisor bits surrounded his position. More were coming.

“Stupid logistics,” Cal muttered. “Should’ve done it like the Threnosh. Set up a base camp. Get that drone supply chain going.” He hurriedly unclasped the ammunition pack, then set it and the minigun on the forest floor. Ax in hand he rushed for the nearest group of monsters. Best defense is a good offense he had always heard. Besides, he didn’t want to get overwhelmed by sheer numbers, which was going to happen if he stayed in one place.

The mantisors moved quickly, not super speed fast, more like charging tiger fast. Not fast enough to unduly press Cal’s superior perceptions.

He threw his ax at the monster in the front. It spun end over end. Only for the handle to smack the monster in its creepy woman-faced mask. Fortunately the ax weighed around fifty pounds. The monster dropped. Its face was crushed.

The rest of the monsters had covered half the distance to Cal in that second. He threw them back with a forceful shove of his telekinesis. He pictured a big wave that he sent crashing into them.

He held out his hand and pulled his ax back across the distance. It reached him just as the monster were picking themselves back up off the ground.

“Classic!” Cal laughed. “I wish Eron was here to see that.” The smile fell off his face. “I wonder if Riverport and Mechanica can make an electrical discharge mechanism. Maybe get a huge hammer made instead?”

One mantisor recovered quicker than the rest. It rushed at Cal. He grabbed it with a telekinetic grip. Held it in place while he ran up and took its head off with a swing. Monster blood, red, gushed out of its neck. Cal turned his head away, but not before a few drops struck his face-plate.

Cal ignored them. He rushed at the rest of the mantisors. One slashed at him with a wicked-looking scythe-arm. He blocked it with a telekinetic shield. He grabbed it and threw it into the other one attacking from the opposite side. He struck at the one coming in from the front with the ax. Then spun and slashed the one that thought to attack from his blindside. Sadly for the monster, telepathy eliminated blind spots.

Two left. Two swings of the ax.

Cal took in the bloody scene for a moment to gather himself. He reached out with his telepathy. The situation was unchanged. There were multiple groups of malicious hunger all around him, moving toward his position.

He suddenly went deathly still. He almost missed it beneath the overwhelming amount of mantisors in the forest. There was still a presence close by. Very close.

He stalked carefully through the trees, ignoring the large number of monsters moving closer by the second.

He focused his telepathy. Pushed aside the larger view and narrowed it down to his immediate surroundings.

There.

He found it. A thick tree. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the wood of the trunk. It was brown, the surface was rough and knotted.

Subvocalizing into his helmet he rotated through a variety of scans. It told him the same as his eyes. It was a tree made of wood.

Cal feigned turning away. Instead he quickly threw his ax at the tree trunk.

The camouflaged mantisor was already halfway to Cal when the ax sunk into its torso. It crashed to the ground. Cal took his ax out of its chest and lopped its head off.

It seemed that decapitation was a reliable way to get around their ability to soak damage and keep moving.

Unfortunately their camouflage ability was extremely dangerous. It had fooled the standard Threnosh sensor suite. That was a problem that needed solving before he took the rest of the team into the spawn point.

After a quick check with his telepathy to make sure he was actually clear Cal rushed off to meet the next mantisor group.

“The mantisor nest or hive is in this location.” Cal zoomed the holographic map to the spot.

“There are only trees,” Caretaker said.

“It’s partially buried in the ground, so that’s why it’s hidden by the trees. It’s pretty huge. Three levels above ground and from my limited scouting I’d estimate at least twice that underground. I sent a bunch of drones scouring the entire spawn point and they found nothing comparable.”

“I note that we are down to ten percent of our drone fleet,” Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623 said.

“Right, so I’m betting that the core is in there.” Cal brought up images and recordings of the structure that the helmet camera took.

It looked like a termite mound, except much larger. Dirt, rocks, large pieces of wood and an enormous amount of leaves all mashed together in a way that looked impossible, yet somehow worked. There were dozens of openings in the section the holographic projection was focused on.

“It appears that ingress will not be difficult,” Primal said.

“There is no telling if these openings will lead to the place that we seek,” Caretaker said.

“And what is this core?” Kynnro piped up.

“Did you not read the briefing?” Primal scoffed. “It is the place which we must reach to defeat the prime invasive organism.”

“Boss monster,” Cal said.

“Correct, that is what I stated.” Confusion furrowed Primal’s brow.

It was strange looking at the smallest Threnosh outside of their power armor. They only came up to Cal’s waist, but the challenging look on their face was encouraging. Aggression and inner fire was something that Cal was hoping to cultivate in the participants of the project.

Prime Custodian 3 agreed with Cal’s theory that the individualistic attitude missing from much of the Threnosh was the key to obtaining greater power armor and other sundry items. Unique power armor was the providence of a minuscule portion of the Threnosh. With one exception. The Defective, at least the ones permitted by their overseers to venture into the spires, all obtained something unique. If not power armor, than powerful systems like Caretaker’s predictive combat algorithm.

And thus the reason why the Collective agreed to the project.

“Must be the spires’ translation system,” Cal shrugged. “But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. We’ve got to get to the lair before we need to figure out where exactly the core is located.”

“What did you discover in your scouting mission?” Caretaker nodded in a very Cal-like fashion.

“A couple of issues. Mantisor camouflage can defeat baseline Threnosh sensors. And the spawn point is full of them,” Cal said. “I’d like to open up the floor for some suggestions on how we want to tackle this.”

“Designation: Honor. I have a question. May I ask?”

“Sure, Frequency.”

“What purpose will opening the floor serve? Would we not fall through?”

“It’s something my people call a ‘figure of speech’,” Cal smiled. “Basically, what I’m saying is that I’m asking all of you to share any ideas you might have.”

“Invasive organisms are greater in number and strength near the location of the core,” Caretaker said. “I have reviewed the recordings of your battle and the number scanned. And I calculate that without your direct support our team will not last beyond three minutes if we enter the zone in the same location.”

“Well, I killed a lot of those things, so depending on respawn times the area might be less populated.”

“A reasonable supposition,” Ebbing Tides 2337 said. “However, I must point out that to rely on that assumption is irresponsible.”

“We drop directly over the hive and assault the core before the rest of the spawn zone monsters can reach us,” Shira said.

They were being uncharacteristically vociferous.

Cal shook his head.

“Chances of success of such a gambit are too low,” Caretaker said.

“Discussion of tackling the core is pointless,” Primal said. “Your own words indicate that without Honor’s involvement our team is too weak to defeat the… boss monster and bring the spawn zone under control.”

“Our purpose is to grow strong,” Frequency said. “Then that is what we must do.”

Caretaker nodded. “We start at the outer edge of the spawn zone. We fight our way through to the hive, while establishing a proper supply chain. This accomplishes multiple aims. By fighting mantisors we gain practical experience and Universal Points. We gain strength enough to challenge the core and defeat the boss monster.”

“I concur,” Shira said quickly.

“Agreed,” Frequency said.

“I defer to Honor’s judgment,” Kynnro said as she looked over to Cal.

Primal merely grunted.

“Sounds like a plan,” Cal said. “We’ve got three more weeks with you as my primary focus. So, why don’t we say two weeks of spawn point clearing. Get practice as team against the mantisors. Gain points. You’ll hit the spire for your next upgrades. Then the last week I’ll join you in attacking the hive, taking out that core and the boss monsters.”

“That is acceptable,” Caretaker said.

“Alright, Loaming, Tides. Can you please get together with Riverport and Mechanica. I’ll leave the details of the resupply chain up to you guys. I’m thinking we’re going to need lots of ammo and way to get it to us quickly and we’ll need the larger transport for Primal,” Cal said. “Can you get that reserved for our use?”

“Your words are difficult to understand,” Interrogator Ebbing Tides 2337 said. “However, I believe that I understand your request. It will be done.”

Interrogator Ethereal Loaming 5623 nodded as well.

“Great planning session, guys,” Cal smiled. “It’s only been a week, but I think you’ve already come a long way.”

The spire-produced exoskeleton was seamlessly integrated into Caretaker’s baseline infantry power armor. The strength increase it provided allowed for a larger ammunition pack, which meant that they were no longer empty after one sustained burst. This didn’t mean they could squeeze the trigger and sweep their weapon indiscriminately across their enemy’s path. Precision was still a requirement.

Caretaker was responsible for the 270 to 360 quadrant of their circular formation. Aligned to the north, south longitude line, as was standard procedure.

Mantisors came rushing through the trees.

Caretaker’s minigun whirred as they sent projectiles into the spots where the invasive organisms were going to be. Light squeezes of the trigger sent just the right amount of metal death into mantisor bodies to render them combat ineffective if not outright killing them. As Honor had learned, outside of completely destroying the body, decapitation was the most reliably way to gain a quick kill.

To Caretaker’s right in the 0 to 90 quadrant, Frequency created a zone of sound that violently vibrated the insides of the mantisors with frightening quickness. They moved fast, but none could get any closer than a three meters from the Threnosh before they collapsed to the ground, leaking a gooey slurry from their orifices.

Directly to Caretaker’s back, Primal held the 90 to 180 quadrant. Unlike Caretaker, Primal’s use of their weapons was indiscriminate. Their massively strong power armor could carry much more ammunition. They didn’t need to watch their rate of fire. Minigun and grenade launcher tore everything in the space in front of them to pieces. Nothing was spared. Trees, bushes, plants, the very ground itself. It was difficult to distinguish the bits and pieces of the mantisors from the rest of the rubble, but they were certainly there.

In the 180 to 270 quadrant, Kynnro created blooming, hot death. As part of their preparation Caretaker had Primal knock down and haul away dozens of trees so that Kynnro would have a clear space where they wouldn’t need to worry about starting a forest fire. The Threnosh sprayed the flammable ash cloud in the mantisors’ path and set it on fire with their laser when the invasive organisms ran headlong into it. The immense heat cooked their insides and robbed them of oxygen, so that when they staggered out of the cloud of fire they were easily cut apart by Kynnro’s more powerful laser. Lances of light swept across their bodies, straight through tough carapaces.

The invasive organisms briefly clung to life, but there wasn’t much they could do when they were in multiple pieces on the forest floor.

Shira had the least to do. Filled with fresh blood they were responsible for any mantisors that made it past each individual quadrant’s kill zone. On the rare occasion that one made it through unscathed they met it in a blur of slashing claws and cutting scythes. The Threnosh proved superior each time.

The engagement took mere minutes when Caretaker’s algorithm told them that there were no longer any immediate threats in their quadrant. They turned to the others and found them similarly finishing theirs.

“Status report.”

“Clear.” Primal crushed a wriggling mantisor with a massive metal hand.

“Clear,” Kynnro piped.

“Clear,” Frequency said.

“Shira?” Caretaker had to look around to find them.

The black-clad Threnosh had one hand deep inside a mantisor’s chest cavity. The invasive organism movements grew steadily weaker as they drained it of its vital fluids. “Clear.”

Shira stood at attention, though Caretaker could see their eyes darting to the numerous bodies of dead and dying mantisors.

“Fill your stores,” Caretaker said.

The excitement Shira displayed disturbed Caretaker. They suspected that it was subconscious. That Shira didn’t truly realize how their behavior appeared. The two had fought together for some time and the changes in Shira were measurable. It made them a better combatant, but it also meant they were moving further away from how a true Threnosh behaved.

A frown creased Caretaker’s brow. They were deemed defective. Was this their path? By fighting for their world were they also removing themselves from it? Even such thoughts, they realized, were not of the Threnosh. They longed for an answer, but they knew bitterly that is precisely what made them defective.

“Kynnro, battery level?”

The sleek-armored Threnosh glanced at the battery pack on the ground behind them. It was connected by a heavy duty cable to the back of their trueskin. “The engagement drained sixty-three percent.”

Caretaker nodded. The external battery that provided added power for Kynnro’s enhanced laser was created by the fabricator and engineer in the span of two days. It allowed Kynnro to be effective in extended combat, but limited their mobility, which limited the team’s mobility in turn. This wasn’t a hindrance to their defensive strategy.

Caretaker had decided that the camouflage ability and speed of the mantisors meant that their ambush capability was especially dangerous. To counter this they would have the invasive organisms come to them in a position of their choosing. Thus they cleared the spawn zone by staking out defensive positions and drawing the mantisors to them.

At times they had Primal snipe distant targets with his bow until the mantisors attacked. Other times, Shira would go out alone into the forest, attack a mantisor, then retreat back to their set position. Apparently, Honor’s people had a name for the tactic. Drawing aggro. Caretaker was still having difficulty with Honor’s speech patterns. The human avoided simply stating things in the most direct manner.

“Shira,” Caretaker spoke into their helmet.

“Yes, subleader.” Shira’s response came back almost immediately into Caretaker’s ear holes.

“Did you obtain enough fluid to scout our next target zone?”

“Yes, but my stores are not filled. I can obtain more.”

“Negative, this task is to scout.”

There was a pause. “Acknowledged.”

Caretaker watched Shira’s black-colored form melt away into the shadows of the thick tree cover. The way the surface of the trueskin seemed to drink in the darkness bothered them on a level they couldn’t articulate.

“Shira will scout our next target zone. We will perform necessary repairs and rearm.”

“I require assistance,” Primal said.

Caretaker nodded. Then they went over to the ammunition crates stacked in the center of their four quadrants and began the process of reloading Primal.

As they worked, they wondered what Honor would say of their performance over the last two planetary revolutions. They had not been in direct contact for that entire length of time.

Honor was back at their temporary base camp just outside the spawn zone’s perimeter wall. Far enough away that they couldn’t rely on him for immediate aid, but close enough to intervene in the event of total disaster.

Caretaker was determined to avoid that. They would consider the overall task a failure even if they achieved their objectives if Honor was forced to intervene in an incident outside the plan.

The experience under Honor’s leadership was certainly strange. The closest thing that it reminded them of was their earliest days in the creche. At least before their defect was detected and they were removed. The team was being trained to function with complete autonomy. They had a limited amount of time to achieve this capability. As far as they were concerned the sooner they proved their capabilities the sooner they could leave Honor’s creche and begin proving their worth to the Threnosh.

Ten years it had slept in deep darkness, placed inside its chamber in the heart of a mountain of solid stone. How that was possible? None could say or at least any that could were worlds distant.

Perhaps in time the denizens of this world, newly drawn into the spires’ network would gain enough knowledge to begin deciphering its mysteries. To do that they needed to grow strong enough to survive and thrive long enough to see such an outcome unfold.

Sadly, the probability was slight. Most worlds drawn in were destroyed by the monsters or subjugated by those rare worlds that triumphed over their own monsters.

None of this mattered to the monster that slowly woke. It only knew that it was hungry. That it needed to feed. It was a ravening thing deep inside that was all-consuming. And so it began to dig out of its impossibly hollowed-out womb inside a mountain.

The Threnosh had cataloged every Encounter Zone, Spawn Zone and Invasive Organism that they had discovered. They had sought out as much as they could. To them comprehensive knowledge was the key to unlocking what had befallen their world. The key to formulating a detailed plan to respond to the changes. Randomness was not something that they were culturally equipped to handle.

Ten years of meticulous study and planning was upended in one moment of awakening.


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