NOVEL NEXT 2.27 If Sown, Then Reap
The spell spun into life on his first try. Tapper still didn't have a strong grasp on the shape, but remembering how it "felt" to cast Drill Spray during the swarm storm made it easier. He focused on outputting only the most basic energy format and the tip of his spindle started to glow, washing the clearing in harsh white light. Dancing shadows moved over the carpet in a roiling storm and a figure emerged, another skeleton with vines puffing out of its ratty clothes, its arms outstretched to block their path.
Tapper's spell obliterated the skeletal scarecrow before it finished rising.
The spray of nonphysical drill bits glowed especially bright in the dark as it streaked forward. Although Tapper angled the spell up slightly to ensure it wouldn't hit the matted floor on accident, any nearby vines still rippled away from the beam like water in the wake of a speeding boat. Various bones and bits of decayed equipment bobbed to the surface of the carpet before sinking again, and the sound of a million drill bits eating through cobwood overwhelmed the rustling.
Tapper grabbed Phanya's wrist and charged forward when the stalks started to fall. He knew he couldn't hold the complex spell shape for long and he swept his spindle from side to side, clearing a path wide enough for them to run on top of the stumps. Five seconds later and his spell petered out, instantly slowing their progress from a haggard run to a frantic scramble. Cornstalks whipped in the wind and actively deterred their escape, pulling away whenever Tapper reached for a handhold and pushing inwards to block his path.
Phanya took the lead, walking through the tangled thicket with unnatural ease. She flowed between footholds and dodged trips, only getting caught when she stopped to pull Tapper through his floundering. Her eyes wildly darted towards any movement in the underbrush, but as the shadows and wind failed to produce any predators or zombies her panic started to fade. Then she noticed the weird droning sound. "Tapper, what is that noise?"
"Acoustic countermeasures against an anomalous wavelength!"
"What?"
"I'm humming to make the cornfield marginally less scary!"
"I'm still pretty scared, Tapper!"
"Because I stopped humming to talk!"
Phanya nearly snapped at Tapper for yelling at her, but he resumed humming and this time she noticed the difference. She was still scared, but during their brief argument Phanya felt truly hopeless; as if once the adrenaline ran out there would be no other option than to stop and curl up in the fetal position. Now she just felt the very normal fear response from nearly getting eaten by a hypnotic plant, and she didn't say another word to interrupt Tapper. She also noticed some system messages waiting just outside her vision, but it took all her focus to keep both herself and Tapper untangled.
They escaped the cornfield all at once. Neither one saw any indication they were nearing the edge, but eventually Phanya stepped forward onto nothing and fell to the tarmac in a heap. Tapper followed right on top and quickly scrambled off her, rolling onto his stomach and spreading his arms wide as if to embrace an old friend. "Oh merciful tarmac, I apologize for ever leaving you," he said into the ground.
Phanya just heaved for air, quietly enjoying the cloudy night sky. Salazar's gas mask slowly slid into view and the two stared at each other for a long second before Phanya panted, "Don't say it."
Instead, Salazar held up a large ear of corn with some of the husk pulled away. The corn within dazzled with a full rainbow of gemstone hues, each individual kernel the size of a grape. "Found some jeweled corn. How's your hunt going?" The beaked mask muffled Salazar's voice, but his smug sarcasm dripped through the filters perfectly fine.
"This milk run got weird," Phanya said, sitting up with a huff. "Don't go into the cornfield, Sal."
"What are you lazing about for?" a new voice cut in, and everyone scrambled to attention as if caught by the middle manager. Hadder shuffled towards them and the trio started to talk over each other as they all offered conflicting reports, but every voice silenced as the wind picked up.
"The hell is that noise?" Salazar quietly asked.
The accursed rustling had returned. Tapper felt the sensation of whispering, even while they stood well outside of the cornfield, and he quickly took stock of the situation. Phanya was hugging herself, face scrunched up in discomfort as she stomped a few steps away from the field's edge. She was fine, Tapper figured that both of them gained resistance to the influence after successfully fighting it off. Salazar, however, had entered a dreamlike state, and the forgotten ear of jeweled corn fell to the ground as he swayed in the wind. Tapper moved to position himself between Salazar and the cornfield, humming his acoustic countermeasures to help rouse his compatriot.
Hadder didn't look fearful or entranced, he just looked confused. His eyes darted in all directions, and he wordlessly mouthed something before his face dawned with realization. He raised his right hand, and before Tapper could read the man's intent a wave of panic buckled his legs.
The emotional onslaught was so complete, so overwhelming that at first Tapper couldn't determine any rhyme or reason for the cause. He only felt an intense burning in his chest that his instincts interpreted as an immediate threat towards his life, and his body convulsed as it tried to fight without knowing how or what to fight. Tapper watched helplessly as Phanya and Salazar fell to their knees, Salazar tore off his gas mask, and as they both hyperventilated the display finally gave context to Tapper's strange emotional response.
He was struggling to breathe. They all were.
[Willpower save vs Illusion (Suffocation): Failure!]
Every time Tapper tried to move, tried to cast a spell, tried to do anything, the same system message refreshed itself in his vision and his rioting emotions yanked control away from his functions. Even once he fully realized what Hadder was inflicting on them, Tapper couldn't logically clamp down on his strange instinctual reaction. Simply being aware wasn't enough this time. The human-like instincts insisted that Tapper was currently suffocating, which meant that he couldn't talk, so instead his internal fan whirred at full speed to supply air to lungs that didn't exist.
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Hadder stood over them, right hand outstretched and concentration twisting his features. He took one long look at Salazar and Hadder started to shuffle side to side, laughing with an odd airy rattle. "I knew it, I knew it! They said you were wanted, and I saw the bounty! I'm going to be rich!" Then he suddenly stopped, a far-off look clouding his eyes before Hadder slowly turned to Phanya. "They say you're all wanted, you especially. You, or… the robot? No, that's crazy. Gotta be the woman."
Phanya tried to crawl away, but he pushed her over with a cobwood walking stick. "The voices are mad that you escaped, they want you back. You need to go back, girlie." She swung at him, but Hadder easily hopped out of the way. "Stop struggling and go to sleep already," he cooed, laughing as he loomed over her.
"Tapper!" Phanya wheezed, struggling with all her focus to speak even one word at a time. "Help!"
"I'm trying," Tapper started to shout, pausing to fight back against the fan overriding his voice. "I can't move!"
"Dumb bot," Salazar panted, almost too faintly to hear. His breathing had slowed compared to Phanya, but only because Salazar was already well on his way towards passing out. The proud merc lay on his side, drooling onto the tarmac as his eyes struggled to focus. "He's gonna get us if… you don't do something…"
Tapper stopped fighting against his body and dove inwards, turning his attention towards his emotional center instead. He always knew that his emotions occupied the same vague, conceptual space in his processor as where he drew spell shapes, but Tapper never directly interacted with it for fear of damaging his personality. But now he could sense a foreign presence intruding on the space, a tiny but powerful line that vanished into the aether and bypassed his traditional firewalls. The connection constantly force fed panic and fear into his emotions and Tapper reached out, recoiling from the alien sensation. Tapper could feel the anger and anguish that drove Hadder's own emotions, and the connection itself had an uncomfortably organic quality.
He lacked the willpower to sever the connection completely, but he could pinch the siphon like a hose and Tapper instantly felt the difference. In this internal space that mostly meant that Tapper felt calmer, but he could also dimly sense that his ARM feat finally realized what the real threat was. Tapper tried to partially ascend, balancing his consciousness to keep one metaphorical hand on his metaphysical emotions, and the other on the controls of his own body. This left both his sensory inputs and motor control outputs fuzzy and imprecise, but Tapper managed to stand and take a lurching step forward.
Hadder's oversized head snapped up, confusion clear on his face. Was he even aware of the effect he was having on Tapper? "Hey, uh, stand down, robot! Your masters are fine, they're just… taking a break."
"You're hurting my friends," Tapper responded. Static cut his voice, distorting it almost as a growl, and Hadder's confusion turned to fear. "Cease your mental malfeasance!" He stumbled around Salazar, giving him a wide berth so he didn't accidentally step on the other's tail, and almost tripped when he turned towards Hadder. The ARM feat kept Tapper upright and the autonomous walking program kept his forward momentum, but with half of his focus on holding back the mental assault all fine motor controls were outside of his grasp. Every step became a stumble and although Tapper could not see his movements, Hadder clearly looked like he was watching something unnatural.
Or possibly something threatening.
"Are you glitching? I said stop! I'll break you, I'm allowed!" Hadder held up his left hand, struggling to control the boneless limb. The entire arm from the shoulder down writhed against its cobwood braces, jerking him around until his hand was pointing vaguely in Tapper's direction. Its writhing stopped, as if whatever separate mind controlling his arm finally got the message, and started to pulse instead. Hadder's face strained in concentration and pain as the pulsing quickened, a slit opened in the middle of his palm, and it coughed up a ball of energy.
Tapper knew that the opening in Hadder's palm didn't actually cough, but the organic display revolted Tapper just as much as germ theory. Whatever Hadder did, his mutated limb excreted a golf ball-sized orb; it glowed pale blue with an opaque, fuzzy surface like condensed fog, so Tapper couldn't tell if it was pure energy or had a solid core. But it instantly rocketed towards Tapper and something slammed into his chest hard enough to hurt, even within his half-submerged mental state. He toppled backwards and his back spindles shot out to catch and push Tapper back, his full torso rolling with the recoil like a reed in the wind.
He kept walking, and horror dawned on Hadder's face. "No one, nothing gets back up from that! You think I haven't destroyed bigger bots than you?" Hadder spat, mania gripping his voice. "This is my bounty! My big break!" His boneless arm started pulsing again, flushing red with anger, and Tapper's body tried to jerk out of the way. The second bolt curved in midair to meet him anyway, striking Tapper on the shoulder and throwing his drill arm into painful convulsions.
[Injury: Dislocated Shoulder
Cannot attack or lift heavy objects with affected arm]
"I said stop walking, you fucking monster!" Hadder's eyes bulged as hysteria overwhelmed, and he gripped his cobwood brace with his good hand. His aim steadied, his concentration narrowed, and blood dripped freely from his nose. The palm's slit glowed and Tapper stumbled faster, if he could just touch the man he could stop this but he wasn't going to make it.
They were both so wholly focused on each other that neither noticed Phanya curl up and kick out, slamming her heel on the side of Hadder's knee. The energy buildup backfired and his arm swelled like an overstuffed sausage, breaking the cobwood brace into pieces before it deflated, and Hadder roared in pain. Tapper twisted a full 360 degrees on his waist and crunched the side of his fist against Hadder's cranium, swinging with full force to ensure the monk stayed down.
Hadder bounced once and sprawled out on the tarmac. He managed to whimper, "But… my bounty… you promised…" and finally passed out.
[Phase Whisperer lvl 3 defeated! +4 XP for participation]
[Willpower save vs Illusion (Suffocation): Success!]
The fog on Tapper's mind instantly cleared, and he beeped a proverbial sigh of relief. Phanya groaned and grabbed Hadder's walking stick, using it to drag herself upright on shaking legs. "What in the hell was that?" Phanya panted. She paused to steady her breathing and continued, "It felt like I couldn't breathe, but I knew I was."
"He influenced our minds on a subconscious level, but it didn't feel like magic. At least not my magic, thankfully." Tapper shook his head and helped Phanya stand. "The important thing is that it was an illusion; he did not seem to harm us until he started to shoot me with his hand… orifice."
Phanya's vision had blacked out until Hadder stopped actively dominating her mind, and she had simply kicked the man the instant she could think straight. She looked down at Hadder's hand and grimaced. "Oh that's gross."
The two of them checked that Salazar and Hadder were both still alive — Tapper measured the former's breathing while Phanya kicked the latter in the ribs — and sat down on the wagon, wondering what they were supposed to do next. Tapper's head snapped up a second before Kakisi appeared, the little familiar rushing around the bend as fast as his little tentacles could carry him. Kakisi squiggled up the wagon and wedged himself between Tapper and Phanya, trembling with fear. Gunfire echoed over the junk dunes and the two adventurers shared the same conclusion.
"Ricky!"