🚀 go-pugleaf

[Continued From Part Four]

     Behn and her group ran through their blasted, nightmare landscape,
dodging behind the sparse cover which could be found as they were harried
by a horde of warped creatures. Dickens tried not to grimace in pain as he
nursed an arm that had been torn badly by a flock of pseudo-demons which
had managed to grab him as he lagged behind. Spenser had managed to cut his
friend and comrade free, though the red cross on his armour was now hidden
behind the ichor of a dozen demons' blood. Grey Leopard now brought up the
rear, occasionally whacking aside the savage giant insects that continued
to best the group.  He had lost several patches of fur in these minor
squabbles, and his tail was looking increasingly bedraggled.  Liz hung
nearby him, her face full of concern.
     Dodging and running, the group finally dove behind a pitted stone wall
carved in the macabre shape of a near-human ribcage. Milton tripped as he
dove, falling to the ground with an audible thud, as his already twisted
leg gave out again.
     "John? John, get up, we can't stay here!" yelled Aphra, trying to haul
the man to his feet. An air of desperation and despair settled about her,
but she pushed it back, determined to see this to its conclusion no matter
how it ended.
     "Go on," muttered Milton, groaning slightly in pain. "I think I
twisted my ankle in the fall. I can't run anymore."
     Aphra's eyes widened. "You can't stay here! They'll find you in a
second! You're coming with us. Spenser, Leopard, we need to carry John--"
     "I _said_ go on!" shouted Milton, his eyes blazing with love and fear.
"If you keep me with you I'll slow you down! Aphra... I can't do that to
you. I can't sentence you to a sure death. Go ahead and I'll decoy them if
I can. I might be able to control a good number of them, get them fighting
each other..."
    Aphra cut him off with a long stare, as she looked the man in the eyes.
Finally, she shook her head. "No. They're coming, and they'll be here in
moments. You are not sentencing me to death, John. We've lost one member of
this expedition already." Aphra managed to hide the shame and anger that
this sacrifice had brought down on her. "If we continue to let them pick us
apart bit by bit we _will_ be sentenced to sure death."
     "Then what do we do?" asked Spenser quietly.
     "We make a stand here and try the unusual. John," said Aphra turning
back to her husband, "You've proven that your powers over this place and
its inhabitants are more extensive than you'd realised. Is there any chance
that you might have some other trick that could help us?"
     "I don't know..." began Milton. Grey Leopard cleared his throat.
     "When I was helping you guys out last time," he began, quickly looking
over his shoulder for some sign that the pseudo-demons had spotted them at
last, "One of the reports about you said that you had something... macro
powers? I don't remember exactly what it said, when I read it from the
computer," he closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to when he had
smashed the computers in Benson's underground lair, "I wasn't really in my
right mind at the time."
     "Incoming!" shouted Spenser, raising his sword.
     "They've seen us again," sighed Gaskell, feeling the will to fight
leeched away by exhaustion.
     "Darling," said Aphra quickly, looking the battered Milton in the
face, "I don't wish to rush you, but it's been proposed that we're somewhat
more capable than we imagine ourselves to be. Be a dear and prove that
theory right in the next thirty seconds."
     A flight of demons swarmed down on the embattled group, ready to rip
the invaders of their realm to shreds. Spenser's sword lashed out, almost
with a mind of its own, cutting and chopping unearthly creatures wherever
it flashed. Aphra encased demons one after another in amber, littering the
battlefield with these strangely preserved hostiles. Gaskell disoriented
attackers left and right, throwing up illusion after illusion before a
wicked slash to her side left her on the ground, gasping for air and
lacking concentration. Grey Leopard leapt to her side, claws slashing with
a ferocity that almost equalled the demons' own, and managed to keep the
attackers away from her until she recovered.
     Elk bathed creatures with physical laws so foreign that, in some
instances, molecular cohesion was not supported. Several pseudo-demons met
their end this way, drifting apart into lifeless, gaseous clouds. But still
the creatures swarmed on, endless in number, buzzing angrily like deadly
bees.
     In the middle of this, Milton lay on the ground and tried to extend
himself. But what was he supposed to do? How his powers operated were a
mystery to him. He hadn't experimented much; he hadn't had the time. They
were dangerous, too, he knew that from bitter experience. And in fact...
     ...he was making excuses for not trying, wasn't he? Milton admitted to
himself that he was. As his friends fought around him, tying to buy time
for Milton to work out some method of salvation, here he was frittering
away his time by examining reasons not to act. Why was he so afraid of
trying, he asked himself?
     Because he was afraid of Gggthsxth, he realised. Not on some cosmic
level, not rationally and not because of the awesome power which the
creature wielded. Milton was afraid of the creature that had bored into his
mind, taken his body and used it against his friends. The thought of that
ever happening again filled Milton with a cold terror. He couldn't stand
the idea of being denuded like that again, stripped bare before that
creature of fear and loathing.
     Resolutely, Milton pushed the memories to the back of his mind. He
cleared his thoughts and contained his panic, harnessing the fear to work
for - instead of against - him. Slowly, Milton breathed, calming his
nerves. Muttering the word 'Hell(tm)' under his breath, the superguy pushed
all of his thoughts and emotions towards the being called Gggthsxth... the
terrible, twisted mind which he sometimes felt in the chill depths of his
darkest nightmares. Fear and panic exploded through Milton's body again as
he tried to drive his mind towards his nemesis'.
     He was almost surprised when it worked. Milton fought down a wave of
nausea as the mind which had taken his nearly two years ago slowly became
aware that it had company. Milton did not wait for Gggthsxth to reach full
awareness of him. Drawing upon the power over this nightmarish dimension
which he somehow knew that he had, Milton screamed the word 'Hell(tm)' at
the top of his lungs, forcing open another pitch black portal, much like
the one which had carried the ill-fated group from Earth to their present
vacation spot. Only this one followed Milton's mental line-of-sight to
Gggthsxth, leading directly to him.
     Beyond the portal lay the end to the group's quest. The end was most
probably the same mortal end which awaited them where they stood. But the
mark of the hero is to tilt at all windmills, even when the windmill struck
back. With a shout, Milton dove through the black portal, quickly followed
by the others.
***
     Liberty Richards slumped at her desk, her face buried in her hands.
Despite her best efforts, sleep had so far eluded her, though the angst
overload had put her into a drowsy state and she was uncertain how much
time had passed.  She was jolted out of this reverie by a small tug on her
lab coat sleeve.
     "Dr. Liberty?" came a small voice.
     It felt strangely good to be addressed by her civilian name again.
"Hi, Mary Agnes..." she smiled, determined put on a brave front for the
child's sake.
      "Can I take a turn guarding Commodore Amiga, please?  It's not fair
that the Preteen Patrol gets to do everything!"
      "Hon, you'll have to ask  Mr. Ray."
        "I did! He says he can't let me unless he gets permission from
Tony, I mean Legend!  I tried to call him but there was no answer on the
jet radio!"  The little girl's eyes filled with tears.  "You don't think
the monsters got him, do you?"  Liberty's brow furrowed with displeasure,
as she had left strict orders not to tell the child about the horde of
advancing pseudo-demons.
      Mary Agnes sensed her emotion.  "I'm not a baby, you know!" she
declared hotly.  "I hear people talking about things!  I understand what's
going on!  Don't worry, if the monsters get close, I'll put up a shield.
They'll never get through!"
        Liberty's eyes filled with tears.  "Sweetheart, even you can't
shield a whole building.  I'm afraid this time we all may find out there
are just some things we can't do."
     "You're feeling sad again, aren't you?"  the little girl's eyes were
round and large with sympathy."
     "Yes, hon, I suppose I am.  This has been a hard day for me.  I've had
a hard job to do these past few days, and I'm afraid I've made some bad
mistakes."
     "Legend says everyone makes mistakes... the important thing is that
you learn from them!"
     "I know, but sometimes you don't get a second chance.  That's why I'm
feeling bad."
     "Oh."  the child was silent for a long moment.  "Y'know, sometimes
when I'm feeling bad, this helps..."  Mary Agnes cleared her throat
nervously.  "'Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.."
     Liberty rolled her eyes and sucked in her breath.  "Mary Agnes, I
appreciate the fact that you're trying to help..."
     "'Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens...'"
     "And though I pride myself on my patience and tolerance, this is a
cliche that I just can't handle right now..."
     "'Brown paper packages, tied up with string..."
     "SYNAPSE!!!  KNOCK OFF THE SINGING!" Liberty bellowed.
     Mary Agnes gulped and subsided, sniffling contritely.
     "I'm sorry, hon, I didn't mean to yell..."
     "But he told me to!"
     "Who told you to?" the professor asked.
     "Commodore Amiga.  He's been thinking at me!  I don't mind, much,
'cause he's a lot nicer than that mean ol' Maladroit, but he said to sing
and so I thought..."
     "Mary Agnes, he's communicating with you?  Right now?"  Liberty
gripped the child's shoulders as she nodded.  "Listen, can you talk back to
him?"
        "I dunno, he's sorta asleep right now, I think.  But maybe I could
wake him up if I think loud enough."
     "That's it!  That's it!"  Night Owl scooped up the child and rushed
back to the lab.
***
     As the Tribe of Behn and a brave Guardian of Rectitude tumbled from
Milton's portal, they were struck dumb. No one spoke a word as they looked
up at the being which waited for them at the end of their quest. To make a
sound would have been akin to coughing during the trumpet voluntary of the
Armageddon. The Tribe had seen Gggthsxth once before, incarnated in a
mortal body that could survive on their world. There, they had seen a
corrupt and hideous demon brought to Earth.
     Here, they saw a god reigning over his realm.
     There was no other word for the being which towered over them,
radiating an aura of power which melded with and pervaded the twisted
dimension under his thrall. The deity's eyes were closed and his visible
aura flickered slightly, as though orchestrating the legions of the damned
under his control. Gggthsxth the Omnipotent rumbled as he directed, his
mutterings a funeral dirge to those who heard them.
     Aphra tore her eyes away from the being first. It wasn't hard. All
that she could see in Gggthsxth was her own death and the death of her
world. Few can look upon such a thing for long without flinching.
     "This is it," she whispered to herself, her eyes closed tightly. No
matter how close victory seemed, Aphra could not help feeling a sense of
dread while contemplating it. "He's so busy directing his invasion that he
doesn't even notice us yet... we've got to take our shot... _now_!"
     The others were startled out of their reverie by Aphra's shout. She
shot a sharp glance to the newest member of the Tribe. "Elk, do it NOW!"
     Elk blinked, as he suddenly remembered his mission amidst the arguably
(by Elk) more important thoughts of television, pickup trucks and whether
or not nuclear war could be averted through skillful negotiation between
first world powers. Raising his hands over his head, he summoned the
energies of reality itself. "Welcome to the LAWS of 666VOID, GGGTHSXTH!" he
said, emphasising the wrong words too loudly, as usual. "Where NOTHING
exists and NOTHING CAN exist!"
     A stream of utter reality sliced through the foul air, bathing
Gggthsxth in purest physical laws. There was a bright rainbow gleam, and
then the display faded... to reveal...
     That nothing had changed. It was like the day after an election.
     "What HAPPENED?" shouted Milton, looking at the untouched Gggthsxth
who towered over them all. "I thought he was supposed to vanish!"
     "This is bad, isn't is?" muttered Grey Leopard. Elk bit his lip.
     "It's... MOSTLY bad," he admitted.
     "What's _good_ about it?" demanded Aphra, feeling a chill terror in
the pit of her stomach. She felt the hand of death hang over her head -
over the heads of all those who were under her command. Were there no more
cards to play? Had the deck run out?
     "He... might NOT have NOTICED that," replied Elk, smiling weakly.
Suddenly, Gggthsxth's golden eyes flicked open and peered down at the
group.
     "Nope, it's ALL bad," admitted Elk, gulping. Gggthsxth smiled a
twisted sneer, then chuckled lightly under his breath. The chuckle turned
into a laugh, then a boom... and then a death knell.
     "Foolish ants," rumbled Gggthsxth, transfixing the humans below with
the power of his voice and typical stilted cosmic villain dialogue. "You
attack me with reality, thinking it the final court of appeal. But you've
forgotten that I have the power to trump it."
     Gggthsxth's massive hand opened, revealing a tiny amulet that had been
filched from the sun with stolen powers.
     "Unreality!" cried Gggthsxth, his laugh resounding through the cosmos.
"It's matchless power has allowed my invasion to begin _months_ if not
_years_ in advance of when it could have! It has given me the power to
reshape the cosmos! And," Gggthsxth sneered down at the humans at his feet.
"It has taken from you your last hope. Please, have the courtesy to die
now. I have more important matters than your passing to attend to."
     With that, Gggthsxth's eyes closed again, and the awesome creature
returned to directing his invasion. From behind him, unnoticed until now
stepped Exavatar and Lilly Quartermain, their bodies subverted to the
terrible will of Gggthsxth the Undefeatable.
     "Joe?" asked Gaskell, looking at her friend. In response, Exavatar's
eyes glowed red and he fired a swath of energy at the woman, who barely
ducked aside in time to take the brunt of the damage to her arm. Gaskell
had a hunch that Joe might no longer be her friend.
     "My god, what do we do?" asked Spenser, his sword held impotently in
his gauntleted hand. Aphra stared at the scene of her friend and a stranger
attacking them on the eve of humanity's doom.
     "What we always do," sighed Aphra.
     "Dialogue?" asked Spenser.
     Aphra shot the man a look. "We fight back," she said.
     Spenser nodded, and hefted his sword. He tried not to think of the
sound of Aphra's voice as she issued her last command to fight. It had been
the voice of a condemned woman, already hanged and trapped between the
moment of life and death.
***
     "They're singing? They're *singing*?! Well, that's just wonderful. Let
me get some marshmallows so we can go build a campfire and join them,"
Doyle replied sarcastically when he heard the news.
     "Doyle, calm down," said Healer, "We--"
     "No, damn it! People are dying out there! We _need_ our army up and
about! Obviously..." Doyle winced with the thought, then continued,
"Obviously Aphra's mission failed."
     "We already told you, Doyle," Healer explained patiently, "Amiga can't
control them. Not like this. He needs some rest before he can try bearing
that burden on his own again."
     "But he doesn't have to bear it on his own!"  Night Owl burst into the
ICU, carrying Synapse and set the child down on the floor.
     "Her?" asked Doyle in disbelief.
     "Her!" responded Night Owl, beaming with pride.
     "'Tomorrow!  Tomorrow!  I love ya! Tomorrow!" belted out Mary Agnes in
true Mermanesque style.
     "Ah, leave it to the prodigal child to save the day," sighed Doyle.
"Why didn't I think of that myself? I really need to brush up on my genre
conventions."
     "...You're only a day awaaaaaaaay..."
     "Synapse, that's enough singing for now!" admonished Night Owl.
"Synapse is part of the group mind, even if she's not controlled by it. She
knows Amiga's every thought... if anyone can help him get control back..."
     "So, Amiga's going to manage several thousand superguys with the help
of a seven-year-old?" Doyle asked in disbelief.
     "Hey!" Synapse stamped her foot indignantly. "I'm eight!"
     "More to the point," interjected Night Owl. "Her nervous system is
enhanced, compared to ours. If she can manage to communicate with the
Commodore, she can help him coordinate the sensory overload he's getting.
Plus, she can relay any instructions or suggestions we have for him. In
effect, all of us could help him!"
     She glanced back at Doyle and Healer. Healer nodded in understanding.
"It could work. And if she'll allow me into her mind, I might be able to
give her a great deal of telepathic support, to be sure that she isn't
overwhelmed by what she finds in Amiga's mind."
     "Well, we have to try _something_. Time's running out." stated Doyle.
     Night Owl knelt beside the child. "Synapse, I know this could be
scary, but I need you to try to reach Commodore Amiga's mind."
     "You mean I should think at him?"
     "That's right. Don't be afraid now, because we're all here with you."
      "Elvis, I hope Night Owl knows what she's doing," Healer whispered to
Doyle. "Her guardians will have our heads if she manipulates that poor girl
into doing anything she doesn't wa--"
     You mean I really get to HELP??" exulted Mary Agnes.  "YAY!!"
     "Never mind." murmured Healer, with a slight smile on her face. She
moved behind Synapse and put her hands lightly to the girl's temples,
adding her mind to the young heroine's.
     "Go ahead," urged Night Owl. "Just try.."
     Synapse nodded, blinked twice and projected her mind.
***
     The devil came down to Georgia.
     That wasn't really true, but the people of Atlanta weren't up to
picking nits at the time.  The group of pseudo-demons who'd landed there
wasn't large at all, compared to their brethren in Canade, but that just
meant it'd take a little more time to destroy the city.  A bit more time
for the word to spread and the panic to build among the citizens in the
rest of the city.  Time for the interstates to jam with the cars of fleeing
people, and people to scream in rage at each other as their deaths came for
them.
     There weren't supposed to be any heroes there, which changed things a
bit.  But the heroes who were there were tired, battered, and wounded from
an earlier fight.  They'd been left behind to recuperate safely while their
teammates went to Canada.  And now, they were the best that Atlanta had.
     Jamie Robertson had been restless in the hospital.  He'd been knocked
unconscious in a ruined mecha, and woke up with a broken arm and the news
that his brother was dead.  Jamie had left the hospital earlier that day,
in a rented van and using the excuse that he had to scavenge their wrecked
plane before some kids got curious.  It'd just been a silly excuse to get
*out* of the quiet halls and sick people and get some time to himself, but
it was a lucky thing.  The weapons he'd pulled out and put in the van were
the only way most of the people there could stop the pseudo-demons.
     The demons had appeared near the hospital the heroes and semi-heroes
were staying in, and were few enough in number to be stuck in that area
until it was razed to the ground.  By the time the police had come and the
Sentries realized that something was Up, several buildings were already
rubble.  Running was pointless, and only an invitation for the
monstrosities to stick a clawed hand through your defenseless back.  So
they fought.
     Jamie lifted a pistol up and took sight at yet another demon, sending
a red beam across its face.  While the pseudo-demon's hands went up
automatically from the pain, Steven took aim at its chest with a larger
rifle and squeezed the trigger.  The pseudo-demon jerked once as its chest
exploded, then fell to the ground next to several other bodies, human and
not.
     Nearby, David Miller used an identical rifle.  His telepathic powers
were still weak from healing the damage Takeover had hit him with the day
before.  Besides, something told him that he really didn't want to see what
was in the pseudo-demons' heads.  David fired quickly, missing his target
more often that not.  Even so, there were enough of the pseudo-demons
around so that a missed shot was likely to find its way into another of the
demons.
     Christie Baker and Tina Wright stood just a small ways apart. Christie
had given up her usual attack, vibrating the air into a sonic blast, and
was instead concentrating her powers on the wings of the more high-flying
pseudo-demons.  Those she attacked lost control of their flight and began
to fall to the ground, hard.  Next to Christie, Tina aimed her force beams
at the wings of the demons, trying for the same effect.
     To one side there was the sound of a cannon firing time after time,
with a few seconds inbetween each shot.  Rob and Harry stood back to back,
Rob with a small picture thrust out before him.  As he concentrated, the
cannon in the picture came to life, shooting one ball out in what would
hopefully crush a demon.  Meanwhile, Harry guarded Rob's back by raking
electricity down any pseudo-demon who came too close.  Both were tired from
their ordeal the day before, and Rob was on the verge of collapsing from
strain of creating and dissolving the cannonball, over and over and over...
     They were the front line, keeping the hospital alive and the
pseudo-demons' attention occupied.  They weren't alone.  Police officer Sid
Morais wore a large backpack and gun assembly scavenged from the Sentries'
plane, and stood near the door with several of his fellow officers. A very
few had similar weapons, but most were forced to rely on rifles and
pistols.  The smaller weapons weren't that effective, but the officers
aimed for the heads of their attackers and hoped for luck.
     Inside the hospital was almost as hectic and crowded as outside. The
halls were filled with panicking patients and relatives, as well as people
who'd fled inside the hospital when it became apparent this was safest
place around.  And somewhere in all that chaos, doctors and nurses did
their best to help the already injured and those who'd been dragged in from
the fight.  Some of the calmer people inside, Craig Johnson included,
fetched supplies or tried to keep the panickers out of the way or whatever
they could do to try and keep their little piece of the world together.
     Somewhere in the middle of the havoc, Robyn Simmons sat in a chair
with her eyes tightly shut.  She was linked to what little toys she still
had left, mostly a collection of small die cast cars and planes that were
outside in the battle.  The tiny vehicles buzzed around to distract the
pseudo-demons, or to point out injured people to the defenders.  It was all
she could do with so little, and she did her best to shut out the
transmitted sight of the bodies of both humans and pseudo-demons.
     And so it went.
***

[Continued In Part Six]