Somebody Stop Him [A Progression Fantasy Epic]

Skyscrapers, or what was left of them, clawed at a sky choked with broiling dark clouds. They were skeletal, their glass eyes long since shattered, revealing the rusted bones of their inner workings. A colossal ruin, a megastructure of decaying metal, cleaved the apocalyptic city in two like a butcher's knife through meat.

My boots crunched on pulverized, frost-covered concrete. An orange safety vest, incongruously bright against the monochrome decay, hung loose on my frame. A yellow hardhat perched precariously on my head, its lamp beam cutting a feeble swathe through the gloom, my silver hair fluttering as I walked.

The beam danced across the skeletal remains of buildings, illuminating piles of rubble, twisted metal, and the unsettling stillness of utter desolation.

As I roamed through this corpse-world, a flicker of pink caught my eye. Perched precariously on a rusted I-beam, amidst the fallen giants, sat a figure. A girl. She was in a space suit, scratched and dented. It was the pink that stood out, a faded, childish hue against the grim black and gray backdrop.

As I approached, lighting the way with my hardhat, she turned. My breath hitched. The front of her space suit was torn open, a jagged rip that exposed… nothing.

Or not nothing exactly. Something was moving within the innards of the suit. Something dark and alien.

Her helmet was shattered, gone entirely. And within it, where a human face should have been, dark metallic fluid twisted and warped, bubbling like ferrofluid responding to an unseen magnetic field.

I stepped back, the rubble crunching under my feet.

The thing in the space suit spotted me and jumped off the beam, landing near me with a loud crunch of the suit's boots. Then, the fluid coalesced, the warped darkness smoothing, reforming. It was an approximation, a fluid mimicry, but undeniably… Vee.

Vespera made of dark, liquid chrome.

"Sup, Lexxy?" The fluid-Vee spoke, her voice a distorted, fuzzy echo.

"Sup, Vee," I replied, my breath forming white clouds in the air. "What is this place?"

The fluid face tilted, a dark shimmer rippling across its surface. "A dream of another place and time," she said. "Of another me from long, long ago. From elsewhere and elsewhen. A corpse world of my kin."

"Your kin?"

"Terraforge. A nanite network designed to terraform planets created by Dorra the Terraformer," Vespera said. "Since the dimensional shift wobbled my soul, I'm starting to remember this. Remember me. Remember you."

"Me?"

"Alexa," Vespera replied. "Martin. You. Both of you who gave me your minds, bound me to your lovely selves. It amuses me quite a bit that a thing, a nanite network like me could have a soul, one that reincarnated as an Omnid Thunderbird after the fall of the Wormwood Star."

A gloved hand, pink and scratched, reached out towards me. Or rather, the space suit itself reached, the fluid within flowing and extending, mimicking the gesture of offering a hand.

Hesitantly, I reached back. My glove met hers, or rather, the cold, smooth surface of the space suit glove. There was no warmth, no give, just the unsettling coolness of metal and… something else, something vaguely electric, humming beneath the surface.

"Not scared of me are you?" she asked, the fluid-Vee's face tilting again, the dark liquid catching the faint light from my hardhat, reflecting it back in a distorted, unsettling way of a million microscopic things bubbling and ever-shifting.

"Nah," I said. "I'd love you even if you were a terrifying liquid terminator, a machine from a corpse world."

And surprisingly, it was true. Despite the corpse-world, despite the shattered city, despite the girl made of liquid metal, I wasn't scared. There was a strange familiarity here, a resonance that whispered of connection, of understanding.

Even in this corpse world of death and decay, Vee was still Vee. And somehow, that was enough.

"That's what I like to hear," she laughed. "Shall we see how our lovely Cinderella is doing?"

"Sure," I nodded.

The dark, liquid metal flowed from its space suit, engulfed all of me in its icy embrace and then the corpse world melted, burned away in a flash, replaced by another dream.

The chill of liquid metal faded, and suddenly I was in another dreamscape, a space that felt intimately familiar, yet… different.

It was Cinder's room, or a dream-version of it. The dark violet walls, the blackout curtains, the metal band posters, overpriced wooden furniture bought her by her parents. The See-Mass lights cast a gentle, almost soothing glow from above. Soft strumming of a guitar emanated from the bed.

Cinder was there, perched on her bed in gray hexamesh pants and a dark t-shirt with the pyramid eye and rainbow logo.

Her fingers danced over the fretboard of her guitar, weaving a slow, melancholic melody. She didn't look up as we manifested. Vespera was now her Thunderbird self, standing beside me, her feathers gradually shifting with black and white patterns.

"Ci?" Vespera said.

Cinder paused her strumming, her head tilting up, ocean-blue eyes focusing on us. "What are you two doing here?" she asked wearily.

"Just checking in on ya," Vespera said. "Like always. Making sure our favorite Quetzi isn't brooding alone in the dark." She perched on the edge of Cinder's bed, her wings folding neatly behind her, and I settled on the other side, watching Cinder's face.

Cinder's eyes flickered between us. "I'm fine," she said. "Just… relaxing with some music. Valor's gone, right? So… why are you two here?"

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With a sudden, decisive movement, Vespera reached out, her magisteel talons grasping a corner of the violet wallpaper. She rapidly peeled it back with a tearing sound.

Beneath the smooth, violet surface, myriads of shimmering cracks were revealed. They were thin, hairline fractures, spiderwebbing across the wall, catching the dream-light and reflecting it back in a dizzying, unsettling pattern. The cracks were not just on the surface; they seemed to extend deep into the very structure of the dream-room, radiating outwards like fissures in ice.

Cinder's breath hitched.

"Your soul is still effed, Ci," Vespera said. "Valor is gone, yes. But… he did a number on you over the years."

She gestured towards the cracked wallpaper. "See all these fissures? All these fractures? That's… the damage he left behind. You can pretend that it's not there, but your soul is still in a pretty bad shape."

Cinder remained silent. She frowned.

"And until this heals… well, you're kinda vulnerable, Ci," Vespera said.

"Vulnerable to what?" Cinder asked.

Vespera's wings shifted, spreading slightly, as if to shield Cinder from some unseen threat. "To… anything Astral, really," she said, her tone serious now. "To other… Outsiders. To influences or further damage. To anything that might want to… get in. Take advantage of the cracks. Fill the hollows the flesh-fold left behind. Also, I don't know how long it'll take the Stabalists to patch up that hole in reality on Lake Eerie. They've got enough shit to deal with as it is."

"Shit caused by you two," Cinder pointed out, resuming her strumming.

"Yeah," Vespera shrugged. "We did make a bit of a mess."

"A bit is an understatement," Cinder rolled her eyes.

"A bit, like, 'accidentally unleashing an Archangel and causing a worldwide dimensional shift' bit?" I commented. "Just a smol messy, really."

Vespera snorted. "Minor collateral damage! We'll send Saxtland a fruit basket. Maybe a gift certificate for… rune-etched pottery? Do Saxtlanders like pottery?"

Cinder actually cracked a small smile, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards despite herself. "You two are incorrigible," she muttered.

"Incorrigibly adorkable, you mean," Vespera corrected, nudging Cinder playfully with a wing. "And incorrigibly dedicated to your well-being, Skittles. Which is why we're here, in your… slightly cracked dream-room, offering our expert services in soul-mending and general Quetzi-coddling."

"Coddling?" Cinder repeated.

"Maybe cuddling?" Vespera slid behind us and wrapped Cinder and me tight in her embrace.

"Yes? Yes." She clicked, agreeing with herself and pushing our faces together. "Now kiss."

Cinder woke with a gasp, a blush blooming across her feathers like wildfire. Her wings twitched, feathers flaring in a mix of pink and orange. "Oh my effing Slayer, did we seriously spend all night fff…" she stammered out, blue eyes wide and unfocused for a heartbeat before snapping to me and Vee and falling silent.

Vespera, sitting up beside me, was practically radiating smugness. "Yepperoni," she clicked. "What are dreams for if not for some quality 'ship bonding?" She wiggled her eyebrows.

"'Ship bonding'?" Cinder repeated. "How was that supposed to help my soul?"

"Part of the bonding experience!" Vespera declared. "The more you trust us, easier it will be for me to eventually fix yo soul. I don't wanna be slicing you up like an effin' Psychopomp. Dreamancy requires trust."

"Sounds like an excuse to maul me," Cinder's blush on her feathers deepened.

"Nu-huh!" Vespera chirped, stretching on the bed and spreading out her wings. "Gotta keep the 'ship engines purring! Gotta ensure optimal… uh… 'shipping efficiency'! Gotta… gotta…" she trailed off, laughing at her own increasingly convoluted metaphor and Cinder's furiously blushing face, sending a shower of sparks dancing across the bed.

Cinder huffed and abruptly hopped off the bed, her movements somewhat jerky and uncoordinated. "Shower," she mumbled, not meeting our eyes. "I need a shower. Now." And with that, she practically bolted towards the bathroom door, her rainbow tail whipping behind her in a flurry of indignant pinks and embarrassed reds.

Vespera cackled behind her. "Aww. Someone's flustered!" she called after Cinder, then turned back to me. "Ke ke ke. Mission accomplished. Operation: Quetzi-Coddling, Phase Three: Dream Therapy, deemed a resounding success!"

I chuckled, shaking my head at Vee's antics as I climbed off the expanded bunk bed.

Stepping away from the bed, I spotted Io, Magdaline, Katherine, and Lilith chatting to each other in the lounge area of our Silverfox room. The Omnids inhabited silver-white leather seats and chairs near the tall window leading to the balcony.

"How are things, team?" I asked.

"Good," Mags replied. "Catching up with everyone. The Stabalist Scruts did a surprisingly good job on fixing up our memories. It is a curious sensation to have two sets of memories in my head, one in which I am a lonely shark and one in which I had Vee and Ci as my best friends since grade nine. You know, Alex… I don't believe I've expressed how much I appreciate you freeing me from San Clemente and hooking me up with Io."

Io made a noise from his corner, sputtering slightly into his S-Bux coffee cup.

In fact, everyone had the same coffee cups likely harvested by Io from a doomed dimension.

"Likewise," Lilith added with a slight curtsy. "Thanks for funding my education in Skyfall and for making me your Sixie, Clan Leader. Sorry for forgetting who you were yesterday, my Slayer."

"Don't fret it," I shrugged. "I forgot tons of stuff too. How are you enjoying our tower residence, Kat?" I turned to the dark blue Stollwurm.

"It's bright," she shrugged, dark goggles sitting atop of her eyes. "I prefer the catacombs. Also, thanks for the dress. Also... While I do like the higher local aetheric density, I am very concerned about you releasing more Archangels."

"I don't have plans to release any more Archangels," I said.

"Why do I not believe you?" Kat asked.

"Pinky swear, no more Archangel releases this week," I insisted. "Maybe next week, depending on my schedule."

Katherine's green eyes narrowed, but she smiled with the edge of her mouth. "Next week, you'll probably get distracted by something else even more horrific to unleash."

"Hey, I resent that accusation," I protested. "I'm a careful, meticulous planner! Chaos just… happens to orbit around me when I move fast, manifesting in my wake. It's not my fault if the universe has a twisted sense of humor. Also, I blame Vee."

"The universe has a twisted sense of humor because you keep poking it with a stick of rapid change," Vespera interjected from her perch on the bed. "And sometimes, said stick is a fully loaded death ray, a Fourty-Two-Thousand-Year-Old Corpse Seeker, or a rampaging Archangel."

Io chuckled softly, offering Mags a 'meat-flavoured' pocky box from his dimensional stash.

"Anyway," I said, shifting the conversation away from my… questionable track record with cosmic entities, "What do you think Justice Nova n' Co will do next?"

"Probably damage control," Vespera shrugged, stretching her wings again. "Omnithornia just invaded a sovereign nation and occupied a major educational institution. Diplomatically speaking, that's… a tad awkward. They'll need to spin this as 'humanitarian intervention' or 'necessary security measures' or some other Corpo-bullshit."

"I read Judge Nova's announcement on ONN," Lilith said. "They're making a big show out of capturing Uxtish, displaying him as an example of Saxtland incompetence, since he's basically the most powerful ghoul that got into Skyfall, one that could have easily taken out the entire student population."

"Yas. Give me praises," Vespera said. "Valor is gone, Skyfall is back in Omnithornian hands, and we're all still alive. Win-win, right?"

Katherine snorted. "Win-win for Omnithornia, maybe. Not so much for Saxtland, or for anyone who prefers their educational institutions not to be occupied by armed forces."

"And not for anyone who values… stability. Dimensional shifts tend to have… long-term consequences," Io added. "The cracks in reality… they don't just magically disappear. Plus the Kiltix-aided healing seems to have a rather unexpected effect…"

"Such as?" I asked.

Io looked extra-nervous, twiddling his dark gray moth fingers. "I... I am starting to remember who I used to be..."