Manifold [An Interstellar Sci-Fi Progression Story with LitRPG Elements]

…the Test-Case Infiltrant that survived the costly massacre in the Saltillan—REDACTED—has recently fed back detailed information as to—REDACTED—current location and circumstances according to the Standard Format Reportage, with two recorded instances of deviation.

The—REDACTED—manufactured Long-Range Directed-Compulsion-Matrix was delivered last week and then put into immediate operation. After several confirmatory tests,—REDACTED—has shown signs of compliance in accordance with new wirelessly-fed intentionality-directives.

In particular, we've obtained the following information as to the potentially third Ash-encoded Etching of this deserter-turned-criminal-warlord:

"—REDACTED—'s will to control his environment manifests as the power to direct libidinal flows." [Emphasis ours]

Our external forensicists have traced the conceptual apparatus of 'libidinal flows' back to pre-Old Empire sources but are unable to research the specific kind of environmental manipulation this manifests, given strict censorship regulations imposed by the Democracy.

As such, we request for an appropriate Interpreter (i.e., one with Manifold DMS clearance) to be furnished with the utmost urgency.

[Excerpt from URGENT REQUEST FOR EXPERT ASSISTANCE (REDACTED FOR CONFIDENTIALITY), submitted by the President of The Apothecaries' Society, Janna Sloane, to the Federal Government of the Sylvan Protectorate, Forensics Department, (attention Mr. Denton Halley, Presidential Office). DATE-TAG: 17-12-3097.]

Allih Belekov closed his eyes, felt his stomach churn as the LSV began to gain altitude. He buckled his seatbelt over his vest.

The engine hummed. The corrugated flooring vibrated against the soles of his boots.

Hushed voices filled the space, turning from anxiety to relief. The voices conversed in the nasally Common characteristic of professionals and upper class fadsters, and Allih felt thoroughly out of place.

Not that he really cared. It was the last transport out of Saltilla's Shukrich Airport—maybe the second-last, but who was keeping count?

All that mattered was that he was here, and that his wife was with him.

He opened his eyes and turned to her. Zarah stared back, her brown pupils expressive and fearful, her fleshy cheeks twitching at the LSV's sudden gain in altitude. He took her hand in his. Like him, she'd never been good with heights.

It had taken him hours to get from the Eastern Quadrant to the Vines, running at the max capacity his Hollow grade enhancement permitted him. He found her exactly where the Kurubim had said she was—stuffed in the broom-closet of an up-scale Vines apartment. He'd prepared for the worst, but found her unharmed, if severely rattled from the attention of an inhuman cyborg and traumatised from all the horror and devastation Saltilla had suffered in the course of its implosion.

As far as Allih knew, none of the other Jegorichians survived.

'Put it out of your mind,' he told himself, pursing his lips and squeezing Zarah's hand.

He found Zarah. She was safe. That was enough to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out fine. He'd put her on his back and continued running, directing himself through seven levels of physical hell to arrive at the Airport—as Ahman's luck would have it, just as the military charter en route to Jegorich was boarding.

The charter was open to all civilians, but accessible to few. As survival often was.

And, as it happened, the ushers had mistaken Allih for a civilian contractor in all the chaos. Not that he'd worn his uniform since he went AWOL, but he kept his Kevlar vest and pistol on him. They let him and his wife pass without questions, and later he realized that most of the other men were dressed just as he was—in plainclothes, with Kevlar vests brimming with munitions.

Top-ranked military men, escaping with their families. They left others to die, just so they could escape. The lives of their families, paid in blood.

Like me.

Allih turned his eyes out the long, rectangular window. There were two of them, one on each side of the LSV. The one next to Allih gave him an unimpeded view of Saltilla.

He saw that night was falling. Far below the juddering LSV, the broken battlements of Saltilla flamed and smoldered.

The repair crews had managed to stretch a translucent, canvas-like material across most of the ceiling, but every so often, a flaming projectile—small from Allih's perspective, but likely tens of meters wide—would trace a broad arc up from beyond the Western wall and obliterate entire sections. The shockwave from the explosion could be felt even from the LSV.

The fortress-city didn't look much like a fortress anymore—more a burned out husk that threaded smog into a cloudless sky.

Piercing out the Western Quadrant was the towering Transportation Gate, a pyramidal construct whose ancient facets were crumbling inward. Near its top, a gleaming, convex plateau sat pockmarked and scarred, that strangely luminescent surface appearing to morph into a variety of different shapes that appeared imaginary and non-Euclidean to the naked eye.

Further afield were the alternately tunneling and surfacing Chimerae Earthborers, difficult to discern under the storm of dust raised by their incessant movement.

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The blood-moon Larua had yet to reach its zenith, but already its wan and pinkish rays filtered onto the red plain, illuminating the slow grind of war as Man and alien fought over yet another rock on this world of rocks.

They'd gotten perhaps a kilometer or more from Saltilla when Allih's wrist-transceiver started buzzing.

Connection was re-established. They had gone past the range of the Chimerae's jammers.

"What is it, Allih?" Zarah choked, her grip on his hand tightening.

Allih frowned. It was an 'unknown' caller. 'Unknown' callers only came from modded transceivers.

Should I pick it up? It's most likely that Kurubim. Figures that he would have an anti-jammer.

Allih stared at the transceiver-screen for a long time, until it stopped buzzing. Then it started again. The 'unknown' caller, ominously persistent.

He let go of Zarah's hand and brought his index finger close to the screen. It must be the Kurubim. What would be the consequences, if he ignored it?

His finger hovered like the Sword of Damocles. To answer, or not to answer.

There's no escaping him. I've accepted a deal with the devil.

Allih gritted his teeth. The tip of his finger trembled.

The buzzing stopped. Allih held his breath, wondering if he was saved from having to make the decision.

But the buzzing started again, for the third time. The 'unknown' caller wasn't going to give up.

If I ignore him, he will find me. He has access to every administrative system of the Protectorate. That's how he found me in the first place. That's how he found Zarah.

There's no escaping him.

His finger tapped the screen. The call connected.

Static.

A child was crying, several seats behind Allih. A mother shushed the babe, and the tense silence re-asserted itself.

"... You've escaped Saltilla," the voice said.

Allih's heart skipped a beat. It didn't sound like the Kurubim at all.

"Who's this?" he asked, his voice quivering.

"You know who I am, Allih Belekov. It's barely been a day. I'm surprised you managed to make it out so quickly."

Allih wanted to end the call immediately. His mind raced. The only way that Betelgeuse Sakar survived was if they had defeated the Kurubim.

How was that possible?

And yet it was without a doubt his voice that Allih was hearing. He stood and glance sideways, scrutinized the shadowed faces of the other, anxious passengers, but was unable to find Betelgeuse Sakar among them.

"... What do you want, Sakar? Why are you calling me?" Allih said, sitting back down, Zarah glancing concernedly at him, but he put up a hand in an attempt to calm her nerves.

"I promised your friend I'd hear you out, that's all," Betelgeuse said. "He's no longer able to hear your excuses, but I'll listen on his behalf, partly out of curiosity."

"... Who?" Allih whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. Guilt surged up from his gut, thick and black as tar.

Friend.

He already knew who Betelgeuse was talking about. It was the one who had put in for his promotion. The one who always covered for Allih whenever he wanted to sneak out the Jegorich Barracks. Who else, but Entuban Kanos?

"The giant. You don't have much time left. Speak," Betelgeuse said.

Why did he say it like that?

He's bluffing. He's nowhere close. It's all out of respect for Entuban.

"I had to save her. The Kurubim had her. I had no choice," Allih said.

"Your wife?" Betelgeuse returned, his tone slightly surprised. "I thought she died?"

"... No. The Kurubim found her. Kidnapped her before the strike. I didn't have a choice," Allih said.

"So she's there now," Betelgeuse said, his voice lowering grimly.

"Yes. Everyone has someone they need to protect, Sakar. Someone they'd sacrifice their life for," Allih said, glancing over at Zahra, his eyes shining. "Zarah is my everything. I had to save her."

"Tell me how far you are from Saltilla," Betelgeuse said.

"...What?"

"You know I can't let you go. I was your leader, and you betrayed me. Treason is always and everywhere punishable by death," Betelgeuse said. "Now tell me how far you are from Saltilla."

Allih frowned. Betelgeuse seemed so sure of himself, so grave. Almost like his ability to… punish Allih wasn't in question.

"The hell are you talking about, Sakar?" Allih shot back. "You survived the Kurubim. Now let me live my life in peace. We won't meet again."

"You brought your vest on board, didn't you?" Betelgeuse said.

"Look, why don't—" Allih stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his vest, at its various pouches.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

He fumbled through his vest-pouches, until his hand gripped onto a thick and squarish object in his utility pouch. He pulled it out. It was a hypergolic claymore, primed for remote detonation.

Kak! I got to throw this ou—

"Allih Belekov, you will tell me how far you are from Saltilla this moment, or I will blow you up in five seconds. Four, three, two—"

"S-stop! Stop! We're—we're about four o-or five kilometers out," Allih frantically said, staring out the window, his thoughts a whirlwind of panic. Zarah beside him had become infected by his terror, and was now moaning semi-loudly. "Don't do this! The kakking plane is filled with women and children—"

"Remote detonation has an effective radius of thirty kilometers. The main road can't have been traversable, so you're probably leaving via air. Hmm…let's say you're fifteen kilometers from Saltilla. I'll give you enough time to say goodbye to your wife," Betelgeuse intoned. "The moment you cut the call, I'll send you to your Ahman."

No no no no he can't—

"—do this! You'll kill innocents!" Allih roared, ripping off his seatbelt and jumping to his feet. The other passengers were looking at Allih with barely concealed fear. Several of the other men in the cabin recognized what he held in his hands and sprang to their feet to yell gibberish at him.

"He's gone crazy!"

"—gonna blow us up!"

"You don't understand, this isn't mine, we have to throw this—" but the men were already upon Allih, screaming fearfully in his face and struggling against his Hollow-enhanced grip with a strength borne of the knowledge that their families' lives hinged on them.

Within moments, they prised the hypergolic claymore out of Allih's hands and shoved him back into Zarah's embrace. They were cursing at him and swearing that they would make him pay, that they would ruin him the moment they alighted in Jegorich—

"Listen to me, Allih Belekov. Turn to your wife," Betelgeuse said, his voice taking on a quiet authority that was impossible to ignore.

There was no compulsion at play. And yet, Betelgeuse had grasped something deep within Allih's soul.

"Turn to your wife," Betelgeuse continued, "and tell her you love her. In this world and the next."

"Zarah, my life, my soul," Allih said, crying deeply, turning and crushing his wife against his chest in an embrace that was equal parts desperate and tender.

"Allih, my dear, what is happening!?" Zarah cried back, her innocent response lacerating his soul twice over.

"I love you, oh, how I love you!" Allih declared.

"I love you too, Allih, you and you only. Why are you acting like this? Say something!" Zarah returned.

"Allih Belekov. For the crime of treason," Betelgeuse pronounced somberly, "I sentence you to death."

"You can't do this, Betelgeuse, killing innocents will prove nothing!" Allih yelled, hoping beyond all hope that this man still retained a shred of morality.

"There was a time when the blood of innocents meant something. Now is not that time. Fret not, Allih Belekov, I'll give you a proper Edomite send-off."

Allih heard the explosion, but barely felt it. One moment he was there, and the next, he wasn't.