Spear of Destiny by James Baldwin (little bear else holmelund minarik .TXT) 📕

grabbed Karalti and threw us both to the ground on pure instinct—only realizing what I’d done and what I’d reacted to when we were rolling in the dust.

“I am here, Tsunda. I’m here with a song that will help you.” Vash, naïve to the sounds and sensation of an airstrike, reached up and pulled his necklace of prayer beads over his head. “I know a song that will still the voices and the violence. It will bring you comfort.”

“NO! Get away from me!” The sound of the sky tearing, followed by a second deafening BRRRRT slashed out from the mother’s tent. It sounded exactly like a Pacific Alliance ATX laying down a close support strike. There were no bullets, no clouds of dust or shredded trees, but the sound was so true to life that every muscle in my body tensed.

“What the fuck...?” I let go of Karalti and scrambled back up to a crouch. “Karalti, I don’t know what’s happening, but stay low.”

She looked back at me—and when her eyes met mine, some of the fear subsided—hers and mine both.

Vash came to a halt just in front of the doorway, eyes closed. He stood fast as the wind lashed at him, welting his bare skin, and began to drone a chant in our shared tongue. “Medlur tzenturr burkhad namyaig sonsoor...”

“Beloved soul, listen to me; walk with me on the Path of abundant compassion. When we are wandering in the darkness, may the bands of heroes, the knowledge holders, lead us forward.” I joined in, blinking as I picked up the mantra from some deep memory. “May the bands of mothers be our rear-guard. May they spare you from the fearful illusions of purgatory…”

As Karalti haltingly joined in the prayer, a passage from the Tuun Book of the Dead, the Mother’s Tent bulged, a huge hand pressing up against the leather from the inside before the whole thing ruptured. An amorphous, shadowy figure spilled free, towering over us. It blurred and sparked with white noise, just like the things in the Chorus Vault. But as it strained toward us, pieces of it came into focus. First a heavyset leg, with vine-like ‘muscles’ writhing over a naked steel skeleton. Then a chassis resolved, plated in impact-absorbing ceramic armor and scrambled lettering, neither Tuun nor English. Arms ending in rounded ‘hands’ that resembled sealed rosebuds struggled out of the white noise, before a clear glass cockpit erupted like a bubble in front. Inside of it was a girl, her face hidden against her knees, her arms wrapped around her legs. Ropes anchored her to the inside of the cabin.

It was powered armor. Kind of. I recognized parts and pieces from different models. The prawn-suit like shape and clear cockpit was from the Pacific-Alliance Taipan line, but the back of it was square and boxy, like the UNAC Patriot Walker. I felt the blood drain from my face. “Vash! MOVE!”

Tsunda leveled her arm at him with a harsh scream. The monk stopped his chant, teleporting as one of the bud-like hands opened into a flower and spewed a precision blast of high-speed rounds. They slashed the dirt where he’d been standing, cutting through the campfire and everything else in its path. I dragged Karalti up and to the side as the half-machine, half-tortured mass of writhing souls struggled against some unseen force that rooted it to the spot. It swung its other arm out, tracking us with a BRAAAP that could have cut us in half.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck...” I tried to get a bead on Tsunda, but HUD didn’t seem to want to highlight her properly. One second, it read [Tsunda’s Nightmare] before briefly flashing with a different name: [FETCHERROR: NULL].

Just like it had when I read the quest description, the sight of sent a chill of fear through my chest.

“What’s going on!?” Karalti, normally fearless, heaved with terror as the Nightmare moonwalked in place, abruptly spun around, and tried to gun down Vash as he flitted from cover to cover.

I didn’t know how to answer her. The noise, the commotion, the sounds of battle... they were alien. Out of place in Archemi. Echoes of a real world, a real war, that weren’t supposed to be here. Tsunda was laughing from somewhere—a wild, utterly insane sound somewhere between hysterical mirth and screaming.

There was a cheerful little chirp from my HUD.

[Local Player Alert: We apologize, but there is a localized system error in your vicinity. We are contacting our in-game agents and will correct this issue as soon as we can. Please find somewhere safe and log out of the game. Alternatively, you may temporarily use the ‘Return Home’ command to exit the area.]

I was about to try to shout some commands at Navigail when her voice... changed. It became deeper. Tinged with venom.

[I’m sorry, but the ‘Return Home’ command is disabled for Beta Testers. Please contact Support for [FETCHERROR:NULL].]

Vash circled around from the back, flying into a slashing kick. A blade of khiig shimmered around his boot, driving into the body of the Nightmare. It pivoted at the waist and smacked him out of the air, then twisted toward me. There was no HP ring, no way to tell if the strike had done any damage: just the REEEE of a charging turbine.

“DIE DIE DIE DIE DIEEE!” The missile launcher vents on its shoulders slid up and back, revealing a honeycomb lattice made of paper, not metal. Hornets the size of my thumb crawled in and out of the holes.

Whatever it is, it has to play by the rules of this reality. A quiet inner voice urged me, encouraged me, and steeled me against fear as they massed into a ball, charging an attack. It’s not immortal. Even the gods of Archemi are bound by the rules of Archemi.

Tsunda’s voice built to a shriek as the hornet bombs launched, blowing apart