Rings of Rhea - Part 1.6

Using his arms to support himself against the wall, Craig looks to see the new trench on the other side of the concrete barrier. Already he can see the aftermath of the explosions further down the line where the wall used to be. Turning the corner, he nearly steps over the edge of the deep black pit beyond.

He pulls himself back and away from the edge in fright. The expanse spread out below him holds no light, like a black hole resting inches from his feet. An ocean of ink filling the recently created craters. Scrambling to his feet, he staggers back to his companion.

He calls her name to get her attention. “Get up! We have to go!” Turning back, his chest tightens up at the sight of the blackness, as if he could fall into it and never come back. Though it is the first time he has seen such a thing, he knows they must get away from the anomaly. Adele, at the sound of his urgent voice, snaps to her feet. For a moment Craig believes she was feigning exhaustion the entire time.

“Wat, wat?” she asks as she snatches up her bag.

It sounds enough like “what” for Craig to point around the corner in response. As she steps over, strapping her bag over her shoulder, Craig grabs his own luggage. Checking himself to see if he has everything, he feels his arm pulled on as if caught by a freight train. Adele pulls him away along with her away from the black ocean, her powerful legs accelerating faster than he has ever run before. Craig twists himself around to run properly, despite his legs still feeling like jelly.

Slapping her hand away from his arm, but still keeping pace with her, he calls out, “What was that all about? I —”

Adele’s eyes, from all of their former exhaustion, have grown round with fear as she utters, “Legion.”

A chill creeps up Craig’s sweat-drenched back and he realizes exactly what she means.

She gives names to machine types, too.

With a swift gust of wind, tons of concrete behind the pair disappear in a dark cloud, a churning black fog erasing them from existence. Both Craig and Adele turn back to look. In that moment, they witness the writhing mass. Millions of tiny shards of shining ebon metal. At first the mass sits idle after its meal, as if waiting to rise to a boil.

This is no mere Swarm—little bug-like machines the size of a plate that crawl around in large groups. If Craig ever bothers to count, the most he ever sees pursuing him at a time is maybe one hundred. The mass behind him is on a different scale entirely.

“Daskann nicht wahr sein,” Adele mutters under her breath as she stares straight ahead.

As the two start leaping across the gaps between the buildings in tandem, a small stream of the dark mass falls off like a drop of water speckled with sand. It quickly rises and flies towards them, snaking through the air in jagged lines as the rest of the swarm eats away at the buildings around it.

Craig’s legs feel like they will give at any moment, while Adele matches his speed with markedly fewer steps. It feels ridiculous to him how physically stronger she is than he.

The swarm, catching up, fixates on Craig. He has no qualms admitting to be the weaker prey of the two. That he has readied his weapon is his only solace. As it draws close to him, he swings at it the core of the cloud. Heavy resistance halts his swing, like pushing through a pool of thick paint, but the tiny machines scatter about from the strike. Turning on his heel, he continues just behind Adele. A glance at his pipe, however, shows him dozens of crisp, shining holes at the tip as if eaten through by metallic termites.

He can feel the bones and muscles in his legs strain whenever he takes a step, shouting out obscenities every time he pushes himself to run and jump away from their foe. Just one more time. Every scraping breath of air against his throat, just one more. Every sprain and tumble, just one more.

Adele offers her hand to him several times, a pleading expression telling him to accept it. As long as he is able to keep up with her, however, he bats her away. With another jump, he twists his foot. Instead of touching down on the next roof like the dozen times before, his foot misses the ledge entirely. The concrete slamming into his shin, he goes tumbling head over heels.

Adele has already pushed off to the next building. She calls out to him, but Craig’s ears are ringing enough from the fall to drown her out. His tumultuous crash leaves him in a pile of sweat and fatigue as his bag and weapon scatter around him. He lets out a dry cough as he peels himself from the concrete.

A veritable torrent of blood springs from the wound on his forehead, washing over his left eye and down his cheek. The color blinds him with its vibrancy. Beyond the red, a murky smudge creeps ever closer. Wiping his eye with the back of his hand, he makes a ham-fisted grab for his pipe. As his fingers wrap around it, the black cloud shrinks and condenses.

It slowly forms into a solid, rough shape of a human silhouette. A head, shoulders, and arms mold from a dense central core of the tiny machines, each one acting as a flake of skin or knuckle or joint. As it floats closer, the torso completes itself, sitting upon a sphere of black like a fairy of myth made metal. The face becomes that of a doll, molded together with hard scales that individually squirm like steel maggots. His stomach churns at the sight of the childlike face; something he feels he should know but has never seen. As it reaches within arm’s length of him, it smiles. Rows of razor teeth pierce past its lips and through its fake cheeks.

Letting out a shout, Craig swings at it to erase the mockery of human life before him. The thing’s “skin” crunches under the pressure is sent flying to the side like the doll it is. Once it strikes the ground, it shatters like glass and once again flits about as a cloud of metal insects. A high-pitched squeal emanates from it.

“Sheisse!” Adele shouts as she lands from a flying leap and grabs Craig by the scruff of his neck. “Aufstehen!” Adele shouts, lifting him to his feet, only for his legs to fall out from under him as if not even there, his breaths as quick as his pounding heartbeat. Only once, when he was chased by a pack of Wolves, has he felt this fatigued.

Letting out a groan of frustration, Adele says, “Entschuldigungen,” as she lowers him down on the ground and sets her bag next to him. With her weapon in one hand, she scans the area for the black swarm, which has since moved out of sight. The crackling hum of Legion is all but nonexistent, replaced with the hiss of steam from pipes jutting from the buildings. With jagged breath, she lets her eyes dart around to every corner and wall, her weapon at the ready.

The sound of grinding gravel sounds from the cement between the two of them like a drill from the other side. Craig, eyes wide and bloodied, pushes himself out of the way with his arms as Adele turns. She grasps the butt of the weapon with the barrel pointing down at the tiny hole created by the Legion, thrusts it into the ground, and pulls the trigger.

At first, the drilling noise becomes louder as the Legion moves its way up the inside of the barrel of the weapon, a high-pitched hum emanating from the weapon. Reaching a crescendo, the rifle kicks back heavily against Adele’s hand as a bright flash blasts forth from the muzzle. The area is set alight with a white glow. Her grip remains true as the weapon thrusts itself above her head from recoil as Craig shields himself from the flaming corona.

The pit made in the roof glows and expands with heat, tiny red-hot pieces of Legion skittering about trying to escape the molten concrete. Their lives end in tiny pops.

Adele stares at the carnage and lets out a tired sigh, looking over at Craig with half-closed eyes and a slightly furrowed brow. She trudges over to him, grasping her bag on the way and stuffing her gun back into it. His legs tremble atop the loose rock, making a shifting sound with every twitch, his forehead covered in dried and flaking red mixing in with sweat and dust. A right mess from bloodied head to battered feet. “Blöde Sau,” she says under her breath as she offers her hand to him.

With a steady, unflinching pull she helps him to his feet and loops his arm around the back of her neck. His breaths remain heavy, his bleeding is far from stopping, and for a moment his eyes droop shut. Nonetheless he musters the will to take a step forward, with which Adele matches. He knows she can carry him without any problems, but thanks her for not doing so, at least with his thoughts, as they proceed across the vast valley of haze-spewing pipes and chimneys.

Far behind them, the black cloud of Legion stands tall, busily laying waste to the skyscrapers around it.

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A/N: Constructive criticism is always appreciated. If you haven't read the previous parts, then I encourage you to do so.