NOVEL NEXT X1.6.6 - Madness Brought Company
Madness Brought Company
More explosions rocked the ship, sending Shadows darting across the lit sky, swarming toward the source of the destruction. The Jumpers bolted from the chamber. The shapeshifter shouted for everyone to get back, pointing a Gunhand at the ship's wall. With a deafening blast, a large hole tore open, and T lifted several women, soaring out at breakneck speed, followed by the rest of the group.
Outside, the once quiet setting turned into a chaotic battle field. Choppers were being shot down, and entire rows of police boats were blown up by blasts of light. Even the yachts began to explode, causing many to jump into the murky waters below. For the first time in their lives, the privileged crowd must have finally understood what it meant to feel scared, uncomfortable, and in danger. When the cold, dirty waters met their bodies, soaking their fine clothes, staining them with the viscous, black pollution that had made them rich—the rest of the world suddenly became—very real, all at once.
"It's Szaszo—I recognize his energy," said Roa as three women held on to him, while he attempted to stabilize the magical iron to fly as fast and as far away from the fray as possible.
"He's different. His energy is much larger than it was last time," shouted Rosso.
The heroes flew right under the battle, unable to go around it, hoping to make it out to the other side in one piece.
"Now this a party!" roared Szaszo, floating high above, as he gazed down, blasting his way through the fleet. "Like shooting arrogant fish in a fancy barrel."
Beside him stood a man in a white suit, wearing a crooked plastic unicorn mask, the kind sold at party stores for a few bucks. An oversized bed sheet billowed behind him, draped like the cape of a superhero who had completely lost his mind.
"Hey, Mad Hane, do that thing you do so well, and let's get this over with," asked Szaszo, crossing his arms, amused.
His silent friend lifted his hands, and concentrated an immense amount of aura into a ball that resembled a sun in the sky. The entire lake lit up, as though dawn had suddenly broken. The sheer intensity of the white light forced the Jumpers, flying back toward the city, to turn their heads away from its blinding glare.
"What terrifying force!" shouted Theya, squinting her eyes.
Laughing maniacally, the one called Mad Hane unleashed the energy onto the remaining people below, obliterating the luxurious ships and armored boats in a single, devastating wave. For a moment, even the floor of the lake could be seen, as the waters rose to immense heights. Those not directly struck were swallowed by the ensuing tsunami of waves. Shadows relentlessly battered the two attackers, who absorbed thousands of brutal hits, their fury turning blind as they fought back with unyielding force, continuing to fire without mercy. Numb with rage, their auras spiked repeatedly, each surge obliterating entire groups of foes.
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"There's your fireworks, you rich pricks," the inmate screamed.
The Jumpers finally passed the shore, landing in front of the inn they had called their home base in Grayshroud. Rushing inside, they brought the women to safety. The heroes' eyes darted back and forth to the streets and the skies, hoping no one had followed them. The city was on fire, as was the lake. Sirens, screams and gunshots were heard all night long. Hardly anyone slept—except for Mattina and Vesper, who collapsed onto a couch the moment they sat down, wrapped in each other's arms, not letting go until morning.
Out of sheer exhaustion, the rest of the group fell asleep as the sun rose. The oligarch was gagged, blindfolded, and tied firmly to a radiator in their room. They kept him under a close eye at all times, and no one outside of the group was told of his presence. The mysterious ally named T had left in the middle of the night, without saying a word to anyone. No one inquired about the shapeshifter's location, as no name, nor a definitive appearance could be given to find them.
"Authorities have stated that the situation in Sector 77 has drastically worsened after the terrorist attack. Law enforcements have pulled back, losing control of most of the city," a news anchor stated methodically on a small television in the room.
The group took turns to interrogate the oligarch, hoping to get him to reveal his secrets. Roa stepped forward, his voice steady but his chest tight as he asked about Eralay, his hope clinging to the faint chance of an answer. The billionaire's brow furrowed, his dismissive shrug cutting through Roa like a blade.
"Never heard of her," he said flatly.
Roa's heart sank, the weight of disappointment pressing against his ribs as the moment he thought might change everything crumbled into nothing.
"My kind does not deal with most of the operations of society. We just—reap its rewards," he said, spitting blood on the ground.
"Who the hell are you people?" asked the old teacher, grabbing the hostage by the shirt.
He smiled, his pearly white teeth now covered in red.
"We are the sons and daughters of the Lord. You have no idea what you have done. Our father will avenge us. You will have the Order of the Worlds against you now, for as long as you live. None of you—anomalies, will survive because of what you have done."
"You—speak just like them. You don't work with the Shadows—you are Shadows, aren't you?" said Roa, as the man smiled.
"Who is this—Lord?" Vesper struck him over and over again, until the captive spoke, his head limp.
"The Lord is progress—the father of the modern age. He is one of the pillars of society. Nothing runs without his black gold. You terrorists act like heroes, and yet—how do you think that this radiator you tied me to keeps you warm? How does this lightbulb bring you light? It is thanks to us. We are the real heroes."
"Your so-called progress has hurt millions, and destroyed entire worlds," the teacher struck him one more time, causing him to pass out, as sweat and blood trickled down his face.