Sworded Affair

Chapter 174: Last Breath

Of all the battles Emma had fought since the apocalypse arrived, this was perhaps the most undignified. She was in her homunculus body, wearing only the burnt rags that remained of her clothing, their remnants barely sufficient to preserve her modesty. Her sudden charge had knocked Magus Austere to the ground, letting her pin him to the floor with the Qilin Horn. Meanwhile, the withered old man struggled against her, one hand holding his oxygen in place while the other tried to push her away. To add insult to injury, Emma was pretty sure that his heart wasn’t where it normally would be, because the flow of blood thus far was only a trickle, and Magus Austere’s struggles were still far too violent for a dying man. All told, the situation resembled an uncouth joke in a B-list comedy.

“It’s all wrong, this is all wrong!”

Emma took a palm to the face as the man twisted in place, jostling her nose and bringing with it an aching pain, exactly where it had been broken by a kitchen door days ago. Annoyed, Emma spared one hand from the Qilin Horn and retaliated in kind: she didn’t manage to reach his nose, but did knock away his oxygen mask. Immediately, Magus Austere began to wheeze, his limbs losing a fraction of their desperate strength.

[Asthma? No, the sound is wrong. Emphysema then. Are you incompetent? Refusing life extension is one thing, but why would a Magus not repair the damage caused by smoking?]

“Don’t you understand? This is the end of everything!”

Emma didn’t understand, beyond the acknowledgement that stabbing didn’t work with him. Both arms went up, grasping the Magus by the throat as she began to throttle him. She accepted a handful of blows in return, to little effect; the man was weakening by the second, a lack of air compounding his existing infirmities, and it didn’t take long until he fell limp in her grasp. Now that he no longer resisted, Emma took a firmer grasp and, with some effort, managed to snap his neck.

[Magus Austere defeated.

Well that was pathetic. Still, he was over twenty levels higher than you, which counts for something.

500 EXP gained.]

Emma retrieved the Qilin Horn from the corpse, before curiosity made her take a second stab, this time opposite the first point of contact.

“Hearts are supposed to be on the left side,” she deadpanned, staring at the sudden spurt of blood.

[Dextrocardia, then. A natural phenomenon, judging by the fact that it remained even after the ritual concluded. The man really was a walking collection of medical conditions, how curious.]

“I suppose that solves this particular mystery, just a thousand left to go.”

Rising to her feet, Emma stared down the tunnel, waiting for the telltale signs of another wave. When none materialised, she turned around to look to check in on the wider battle. The Templar was dead; his immobile form crumpled to the floor, though it remained intact rather than fade away as Emma’s own armour had. The Operator on the other hand was mostly unphased; his rifle lay in pieces on the floor, but with a violence that indicated enemy action rather than malfunction. He’d drawn a pair of combat knives, each the length of Emma’s forearm, and was happily butchering a swarm of mechanical bats as they tried to squeeze past him in the cramped confines of the tunnel. By all signs, the situation was well in hand, which only left Emma with more questions.

All of the supplicants were gone, piles of dust along the floor marking the only sign of their passing. The idol for which they gave their lives, on the other hand, looked more alive than ever. Surrounded by a cage of lightning, dull red eyes met Emma’s own, sending a spike of pain through her skull.

[A SUCCESS. NOT MINE, NOT IN THIS SIMULATION, NOT AT YOUR HANDS, BUT A SUCCESS ALL THE SAME. A THOUSAND THOUSAND ATTEMPTS, MADE SIMULTANEOUSLY, IN EVERY NATION OF EVERY CONTINENT ON EVERY PLANET IN THE EMPIRE.

MOST FAILED, MOST DIED, ALL DIVERSIONS ALL THE SAME. SOME SMALL, TO DRAW THE ANTS. SOME VAST AND WELL DEFENDED, TO FEED THE LEVIATHANS. SOME, UTTERLY UNREMARKABLE IN EVERY RESPECT, TO OCCUPY THE MEDIOCRE LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO BE BORN.]

“Indeed? And what, exactly, are you?” Emma felt she had to ask, as the thrill of battle faded away, leaving a strange lethargy common to humans after a sudden spike and withdrawal of adrenaline.

[THAT, YOU WILL SOON FIND OUT. PROCEED TO THE NEXT STAGE, YOU WHO DOES NOT EXIST.]

With a strange, crumpling sensation, the abandoned mine shaft collapsed in on itself; in one moment, Emma was staring at the solid wall of stone descending to bury her from on high, and the next, she was back outside the building with the inverted elevators, with no sign of all she’d just experienced. Well, almost no sign.

[Magus Austere’s Oxygen Mask stored.

FILTER (AETHEROSPHERE) APPLIED.]

That prompted Emma to double check her inventory, only to find that it was mostly as she’d left it. The mask was a new addition, but everything else looked to be in order: the Qilin Horn was safely stored away, undamaged from its brief use as a weapon, while her homunculus was likewise inside, and Emma herself clad in armour once more.

[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 10 hours, 30 minutes.]

“Attention, citizen! This is private property of the Flux Society, trespassers will not be tolerated!”

The other difference was that Emma was no longer alone in front of the Hall of Beginning. An android painted blue and yellow stood at her side, waving a stun baton at her in an attempt to intimidate.

[Security Droid - Level 15]

Naturally, Emma replied by summoning Epitaph and cutting the offender in half.

[Security Droid defeated.

50 EXP gained.

WARNING: You have committed a crime against Arcadia. You are now marked for death.]