The Unified States of Mana

The grand hull carves through the sky toward the army that surrounds us, clear crystal roots supported by mana-dense slats, neither to the quality that it might be considered armour. Yet, to war we must go, and hopefully she can survive it.

The crystal trunk that acts as a mast glows bright with magic as it pushes us through space. A magic cast through enchantments, into the bones of a dead tree.

The few warriors capable of fighting in this coming battle, anxiously adjust their grips and check on their weapons and armour.

“In the bloody valleys, now our farms,”

Their shuffling takes on a beat, spears and feet pound on the deck, weapons beat against one another.

“Death becomes life, they return to us again,”

Singing away our nervous energy focuses it into something new. Something powerful.

“New forms and new shapes, we all must embrace,”

We stand together as we charge the enemy line.

“For the freedom to choose our own paths, to war!”

“To war!”

It’s amateur, imperfect and rough, but our warriors gather behind the chant. This violence is for the sake of gaining our freedom. To free ourselves of the Unified States and the rules that have bound us, locked us into futures that we cannot accept.

“Let’s reshape those bastards and bloody the fields!” Vii shouts, trembling in rage and fear, “Be ready for harvest!”

“We can’t afford to lose,” I whisper, my twisted heart churning with annihilation coming into existence at my demand. Magic swirls within me, ready to take from this world, to destroy, to unmake.

It’s not quite at the level of my grandest casting, not even nearly, but it is still more powerful than most other attempts.

When the enemy is within a hundred meters, there is no more time to wait.

“To war,” I whisper, releasing my rage onto creation.

Black threads, infinitely small, race through the air before me, targeting the officers and soldiers that charge us. As the enemy moves to avoid the attack, the threads redirect at an angle, finding them wherever they go.

Shields are raised and magic is formed to counter my spell, but for some, it’s not enough. Ash carves chaotic paths through flesh, chitin, and bone.

Bodies fall from the sky as mince.

Yet, for each that falls another dozen survive.

Soldiers with terrible Skills and power charge at us, and mages cast disabling spells for those of us standing on the deck. Every swing and every spell is cast carefully and with purpose and that purpose is not to stop the boat.

Not one mage or soldier moves to damage the vessel, a small blessing for us.

The only entrance to the ship’s hold is behind us on the deck, guarded by the few lesser soldiers capable of limited cooperation. They stand together in tight formation, spears, swords, wands, staffs, and weapons even stranger held up as a wall against the coming tide of violence.

Assuming that the lower doors aren’t forced open, then our charges will be fine so long as we’re still fighting.

The enemy is still holding back, perhaps for the sake of keeping the ship in good condition.

Again, they hamstring themselves, fighting under rules that limit them. Leaving them to die to weaker foes. To us.

Swarming numbers crash into the hull, moving quickly and in groups. They outnumber us five to one, we shouldn’t be able to win even when they hold back. We can’t possibly win… but we must.

To overcome the odds, some risks need to be taken.

If the enemy wants to hold themselves to such stringent rules, then let’s see how far we can take this.

I summon more magic, feeding the annihilation through every relevant adaption.

The first soldier to reach me is an elf covered in layers of stone. Ice builds from his fingertips and rushes through the air between us. I step into the magical blizzard, thrusting a quick punch into his sternum and threading annihilation into him.

The ashen destruction carves cleanly through his defences, spreading through and bursting out his back.

Maintaining the thin penetration of my bolts to cut through defences is a new and difficult technique, and in this case, doesn’t work quite right.

The elf stumbles back from me, only a few layers of flesh and stone clattering to the deck behind him. The spell over penetrated, spreading only at the last moment to dice a little of his back.

Still, it’s enough to stagger him.

I follow up with another hit, cutting his arm from his shoulder with a bladed annihilation.

Another soldier pulls him back before he dies, but I claim his abandoned limb and, using another spell, I scatter it as gravel before it can be taken back. He’ll die of mana shock if not treated with rare and expensive potions.

I don’t have even a moment to recover or consider the exchange. Burning mana for energy to keep from being distracted by my organic limits, like breathing, I face the foes flanking me.

The pair come from either side, flying down at an angle, one with long, segmented blades and one with long, heavy chains. They move to catch me between them, in a cooperative attack well practised.

I jump high, reducing my mass to gain some height, but the weapons move unnaturally, bending through the air to catch me regardless of my attempted evasion. I burn them away with my dark shields, at exorbitant cost, and throw my own spells at them.

They dodge the bolts, much more easily than I expected. Nets would’ve caught them but require much more power to do any damage.

Another soldier slides in below me, waiting to ensnare where I’m likely to fall. Her body is soft, and she seems to be kin to the slimes and slugs. No doubt she’s planning to capture me and kill me in short order.

I fall willingly into the bloated mass of her flesh.

Summoning claws from the mana and air around me, I thrust them into her body as I fall, slicing apart her soft flesh. Drinking in the mana from her body, I carve out chunks of her body to more easily draw out the mana inside, while using my shields to keep me alive through her attacks.

She shrieks as I tear her apart, but while the others come to try and help her, I’m already inside her. Flesh, cartilage, organs, I mince them down into an edible mash while she screams in her death throes.

Her friends can’t save her.

While still consuming the mana in the mince at my feet, I confront the two fliers still wielding chains and blades, though much smaller now than before.

Tears stain their faces, grief and pain are shouted loud as I stand in the corpse of their friend.

Eshya’s skull barely holds the mash of her brain inside. Blood drips from the earthen spike.

A blade cuts into my arm, while a chain slams into my head.

Instincts save me as I raise mana shields and send mana bursting through my legs. I leap at the closest threat, sucking the mana out of him as he struggles, screaming and shouting.

My next annihilation spell is primed and ready, it’s been stewing inside since I released the first.

Vii is struggling to keep out of reach of the four fliers that pursue her, keeping ahead with perfect timing and powerful bursts of magic. She’ll be worn down in time.

Adler blasts powerful bolts of pressurised water at a half dozen targets around her, including those after Vii. Even with her efforts, a crawling shadow moves over the ground behind her, shielding its small form from her magic.

Red dances on the deck, and skips through the skies, her daggers glowing bright and moving faster and faster. Her skin once red is now bathed in blood; green, yellow, and blue. She wounds and maims more than she kills, focused so much on keeping others alive that she can’t properly hunt.

Riflemen blast away at the enemy, no longer counting rounds, as they struggle hard to stay alive. Already one of our own is dead, and another two are just about to die, subdued by the enemy and ready to be killed with a  clear heart and mind.

I guide the annihilation that bursts out of me. The thin lines of ash carve into the distracted soldiers, slaying some, wounding others, and staggering them all.

Red kills two in that short moment of weakness, Vii swoops in to save our captured men, and Adler riddles the creeping shadow with a dozen small bolts of high-pressure water.

The corpse of the crying soldier, slips through my fingers in a hundred gooey pieces, dusted with ash.

I turn to the other who survived.

The enemy is retreating, regathering their forces in the skies around us, as the rest of the army catches up to us, but this one soldier stays behind. The broken chains hang loose in his hands, one trailing in the orange goo of the slime, the other now splattered with the red blood and feathers of his blade-wielding ally.

As I open my mouth to say something, I realize that there’s no point.

He’s not looking at me.

He’s looking at his friends.

Mourning them.

Finally, he turns his eyes to me, but still, he doesn’t see me. He sees a beast standing on the corpses of his friends.

He says nothing, lifting his bloodied chains, loose and broken.

I lower my hands, meeting his eyes.

He shouts in grief, in rage, demanding justice.

Glowing red daggers burst out from his chest, twisting around before being pulled on either side. His body splits clear in two, his blood spilling onto the deck, mixing with the two others that I’ve killed.

My heart, pounds in my head.

Annihilation burns in my chest, growing as I wait for another chance to cast my grand magic.

“They’ll target our weaknesses now that they’ve seen what we can do,” Red says. “Be ready to change your attack style to suit.”

“Understood,” I say, swallowing back my bile. My heart feels cold, as I slowly turn away from the sight under my feet.

Justice isn’t on my side.

This isn’t some grand moral good.

I win because I want to be the one who lives.

I win because I have strength on my side.

Our people recover, those too wounded to fight heal using potions or magic, and mana potions are shared around for more grievous injuries, and mages worn down by battle. This is not the time to be hoarding our potions.

“Everyone good?” I ask.

“A little tired,” Adler says, stumbling over her own feet as she tries to stay awake. She shivers, rubbing at her arms before falling, I race to her side, catching her before she hits the bloodied deck.

“Healer!” I shout, looking for an injury, but there’s nothing.

No.

This can’t be.

“Right here,” Red says, stepping up to us and forcing a potion down her throat. “Good thing you use these so often.”

It’s the same potion we use to wake people after pulling their brain chips out. Is that really enough?

Adler startles back awake in my arms, shivering a little before standing on her own feet.

“What… was?”

“Sleeping poison,” Red says. “They can’t kill recklessly, remember? It’s one of their favourite techniques.”

The relief is enough to steal the strength from my legs, and Adler catches me before I hit the deck.

“Vii?” I ask, turning to my other lover here.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Vii says, tossing down a potion to fix the bloody gash on her side. I don’t know when she took the wound.

I should know.

How did I miss it?

She could’ve died!

I lock onto them with one of my split focus minds each. I cannot let them die.

“Ready up!” Red shouts, the next wave is coming for us. The soldiers that we were hoping to leave behind are now gathering for the assault.

I step aside from my lovers and stare at the forces arrayed before us. They stare back at me.

The magic inside of me is clearly visible, and they now know just how dangerous I can be. It seems they want to deal with me first.

Good.

Let them come, let them bleed and fall and become but flesh ploughed into the earth.

My breath catches as I draw upon the spilt flesh and blood of the three who I killed last fight. I am a monster.

A beastly being of destruction.

I want to be more, but I keep returning to this. I keep fighting, warring, to protect what is mine.

“When will the violence end?” I ask, annihilation burning in my chest.

“When we’re dead,” Red replies chuckling without humour.

“No, when I’m stronger than the gods. When I break reality itself to make violence meaningless. I’ll make a better world, whatever it takes.”

Adler’s eyes shine, her tail working in excitement.

Vii shivers recording the moment, no doubt.

Red smirks. Is it doubt? Confidence? Whatever it is guiding her, I prefer not to pry into her heart and leave it a mystery.

“To war!” Our warriors shout, raising weapons, with weary limbs, bearing the scars of newly healed wounds.

An elvish officer, the enemy leader, flies at the front of their charge paired with a powerful mage. Magic burns bright inside of the mage, bright enough to compare to my own magic.

They’ve prepared a counter to my black ash tree. The net of annihilation that damaged them so much the last two times.

I can’t disappoint.

“Come on then!” I shout, standing at the front of the ship as the elf and mage pair fly for me, the rest of the soldiers following at their back as others come from every other angle. Seeing the world with more than just my own senses, burning through mana to strengthen my mind’s perception of time and catching every detail, I loosen my hold on my spell.

The mage, meant to counter me responds immediately, casting before I can fully realize my own magic. He’s more talented, better trained, and more experienced.

It’s not enough.

I release the charged spell, reducing my mana levels down so low that it’s dangerous to keep fighting.

Ashen threads burst out from my back, concentrating on enemies that I can only see through borrowed eyes. The magic is dense and powerful, to the point where it should be lethal.

The spell cast against me to counter mine cuts through the air right for me. I try to dodge, but I’m too slow, and the threads of burning mana cut into the air, bending to find me regardless.

The elf looks mildly put off as the magic hits me.

I fight against it, but there’s too much power condensed into the enemy spell and I’ve already weakened myself too far. My insides burn, and fire spreads through my flesh as the magic carves apart.

My skin melts into disordered patterns, but the damage is deeper still, the flesh and bone slip as parts of me turn to liquid. My arms, legs, and everything else, pieces of me slide along each other, chunks coming loose as the bonds turn to liquid.

My body fights to maintain its shape. Segmented pieces of loose tissue warp and wrap around one another, flesh crawls up on flesh, bone layers onto bone.

As my body melts from with—acid maybe? —my body finds a new shape, a sickly imitation of the old.

My limbs are terribly short but thick with layered pieces of me. I’ve become a quilted person, loose scraps stitched together with threads of mana.

My torso is worse, and even my head is malformed. Most others would be dead. Do the officers not care at this point?

I focus on my own spell, watching it strike the soldiers behind me. Few manage to guard against it, expecting the magic to be killed by their own mage.

Half of them fall, wounded or dead, I can’t be sure. The rest are stunned, giving our side a moment of weakness to exploit. Red doesn’t hesitate, leading the charge.

While I’ve killed many of the soldiers behind us, there are enough enemies before me to swarm the ship with their numbers. Everyone is fighting with all they have, and my lovers can’t even look my way to notice my situation.

Shuddering on the ground, barely able to keep the blood flowing through me, I hold back a scream. The pain is terrible, but it’s not what offends me.

My body should not be like this.

This is wrong.

It’s unbearably wrong.

The elf, rather than taking this opportunity as he should, turns to the mage beside him, pressing a silver collar onto the soldier. The mage, surprised by the betrayal tries to argue, but he’s ordered to back down and has no choice but to obey.

While all my allies are busy with their own battles, the elf walks down to meet me, where I writhe on the deck. All my mana is burning away to keep me alive in this twisted shape, even the mana I absorb will only just be used to keep me as I am.

“Surrender,” the elf says, standing over me and drawing a knife. There’s no reason to waste more mana in using a spell. I can’t move, and he’s watching for me to use magic on him.

“Who are you?” I ask, my voice strange in my own ears. “Who are you to stand there and make such a request?”

“I am no one,” he says coldly. There is nothing to him, not even the insanity that the other officers will sometimes express. There is only cold resignation to his task.

His hand reaches down to me, the knife kissing my skin before the trembling sets in. I yank at the silver collar hidden within the elf’s flesh. The first tug freezes him, but I do not stop there.

I pull on his collar until it’s bleeding out of his every pore, dripping from his eyes and mouth. His eyes roll back into his body, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

Red slashes at a soldier that tries to rescue the officer as the rest retreat. This second fight is over sooner than the first, but even more casualties lie on the deck beside me.

“Kyra!” Adler shouts, reaching out for me as we sail on the skies away from the remnants of the army, recovering from their last failed attack.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Stats and Skills

 

~Mana Form:

Current mana density: 3,110 / 60,892 units

Current mana volume: 1,546 / 30,271 shards

 

Mana volume at crystallisation density (Max. mana volume):

Kyra: 30,271 shards

Kyra’s armour: 20,777 shards

Kyra’s throne: 1,109,298 shards

 

~Forms

Mana Canon

-Annihilation Heart (Adapted)

-Blood Fuel (Adapted)

-Bone Magic Storage (Adapted)

-Nail Shifters (Adapted)

 

Dancer

-Flash Nerves (Adapted)

-Quick Perception Mind (Adapted)

-Burst Reflex Muscles (Adapted)

-Layered Space Muscles (Adapted)

 

Turtle

-Rebinding Tissue (Adapted)

-Catalyst Sweat Glands (Adapted)

-Repulsive Skin (Adapted)

-Prehensile hair (Adapted)

-Fatty Tissue Blood Storage (Adapted)

 

Investigator

-Wide eyes (Adapted)

-Wide ears (Adapted)

-Sharp nose (Adapted)

 

Misc.

-Clean bowels (Adapted)

-Mana Drive (Adapted)

 

 

~Favourited Skills:

 

Magic:

-Annihilation Magic (Customised)

-Fire Magic (Functional)

-Space magic (Broken)

-Force magic (Functional)

-Ice magic (Broken)

-Wind magic (Broken)

 

Movement:

-Hand-to-hand casting (Functional)

-Mana surge movement (Functional)

-Stealth (Functional)

 

Senses:

-Eyes of an Empire (Customised)

-Combat Awareness (Functional)

-Watchmen (Functional)

-Hidden bug (Mastered)

-De-tagging (Mastered)

-Anti-stealth sight (Mastered)

 

Special:

-Spirit Transformation (Broken)

-Conformity (Broken)

-Training mana form (Functional)