Susie leaned against the masonry of the castle.
While everything around it changed, the keep was still the same, an unmoving landmark smack dab in the middle of this refuge with the same old walls and same old atmosphere. The only thing different about it was the fact that its spires were no longer what dominated the skyline, being modest compared to the skyscrapers around it and those massive walls beyond.
Still, it was home and she appreciated having a home. That was never something that she was going to take for granted.
She touched the brickwork, feeling how tactile it was, how real it seemed. Maybe at one time this was a world of make-believe. But that certainly wasn't the case any longer. Everything about his felt real and it was a realm that she felt that she belonged to.
Remember what keeps you in the fight.
``Susie!'' Lancer called.
Susie looked over and saw just one of the hundred little reasons for why she got back in that mech again and again. She never thought that she had patience for kids but this one was different. Maybe it was getting to see them grow up and be there for him, to have a stable connection that wasn't torn away from her by fate.
``Sup Lancer?'' Susie asked.
``Oh, nothing much,'' Lancer said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he came over. ``Did you see that I was on TV?''
``You were on TV?'' Susie asked. She allowed herself a small smile. Of course, she'd seen the ad but she wasn't about to steal his thunder. ``What were you on TV for?''
Lancer smirked. ``I was scared citizen number three on Tenna's new educational ad about what to do during a Titan attack.'' He pulled his hands out and clapped them against his cheeks, mimicking a scared scream. ``I was the one screaming as they ran out of a burning building.''
``Oh, so you're running away from the spawn now, huh?'' Susie ribbed.
``It's called acting Susie,'' Lancer said, rolling his eyes. ``Don't hate me because I'm better at playing a character than you.''
``If Tenna wanted better acting than he shouldn't have asked me to be a damsel in distress,'' Susie chided.
The two of them barked with laughter. A brief bout of reverie which quickly died down.
Susie noticed that Lancer grew quite serious. His gaze fell to the floor and there was something about him that just felt a little off. It was nerves, she knew that it was nerves. What else could it possibly be considering what they were about to go into this dungeon for.
``We don't have to do this if you don't want to,'' Susie quickly offered.
``He's my dad,'' Lancer replied.
Susie scoffed. ``And that doesn't mean that you owe him shit.'' She saw the way he flinched, frowning. ``Sorry, I just... I don't want you getting hurt by him again.''
``I know,'' Lancer whispered. He forced a smile, taking a hopping step towards the dungeon's entrance. ``Come on, there's no point waiting any longer than we have to.''
Susie sighed and followed after him, supposing that he was right. It was just a quick in and out. Say hi to the odd man, get rebuffed, come back up here, and then distract the kid with a game or some ice cream or something. It was a story they had gone through probably a thousand times and it was one that they were going to probably go through a thousand times more.
``Where are you two off too?'' Ralsei called.
Lancer paused and looked over his shoulder. ``Oh hey, Toothpaste Boy, me and Susie are going to see my dad.''
Ralsei looked to Susie, lifting a brow. They had talked about this before and she had made her opinion painfully clear about the subject back then.
``The kid wants too,'' Susie explained, nodding towards her boyfriend. ``Where are you off too?''
Ralsei grinned. ``It's a secret.''
``A secret, huh?'' Susie asked, smirking at the question. ``I'll be waiting.''
Lancer cleared his throat and Susie looked over, seeing the kid impatiently taping his foot against the ground. Susie looked at Ralsei who shrugged in response, smirking. Both of them knew that there was no fighting against that sort of impatience.
``I'm coming, I'm coming,'' Susie said, turning and following after him.
The two of them headed down the stairs, taking the winding path along them. As they ventured ahead, the torches in front would snap aflame while those behind would extinguish, ensuring there was constant darkness directly around them. It was a dreary and honestly kind of terrifying realm to venture into. It seemed that it would never end as they took stair after stair.
Until it finally did as they somehow reached the very bottom. At the base was a single corridor which was lined with cells, almost all of them left wide open. There weren't a whole lot of darkners who were still down here, each of the cells being emptied over the years.
Almost every darkner wanted to do their part and help save the world. Almost every darkner...
At the very end of the hall, there was the noise of pages turning within a book. It was followed soon after by the sound of a figure munching upon popcorn, loudly chewing. There he was, the first prisoner of Castle Town and also its last.
``Is that you Susie?'' the gruff baritone grumbled.
Susie scoffed. ``And your son.''
``Lancer?'' King asked. Was that a little shock in his voice? It was always so hard to tell. ``How... have you been?''
``Really good! I was on TV, dad!'' Lancer beamed, bouncing towards the cells.
Susie hung back, approaching slowly. A part of her didn't want to see him, another part didn't want to see what kind of state he was in. He'd been down here for far too long. And sure, that was his own fucking fault but a part of her felt for Lancer about all of this. It couldn't have been easy to see his old man rotting away like this.
She scoffed. If anything, she knew that all too well.
But after a certain point, she was simply dragging her feet. So, she stepped over and leaned against the bars opposite from King's prison, folding her arms in front of her chest and trying her best to seem disinterested in all of this.
His cell hadn't changed much since it had first been put there, still having that large running wheel and a water bottle which dripped into an empty grate below. A few creature comforts had been provided for him: books, a nice chair, and a proper kitchen nook to prepare his own meals in.
Ralsei had hoped it would help soften his heart to the cause. A foolish perspective.
King popped a kernel into his mouth as if mocking this kindness. ``You were on TV?''
Lancer nodded. ``Tenna was making some new ads to help darkners get away from Titan spawn.''
``A lost cause,'' King murmured.
Lancer wilted. ``I don't think so.''
King scoffed and looked at his novel, sliding a bookmark into place before placing it atop a rather large pile of similar literature. It was a mix of fiction and nonfiction, a whole range of subjects which he had the luxury to actually have time to enjoy.
``I thought it was really cool,'' Susie grunted.
Lancer looked at her and smiled though his expression was especially strained. ``It wasn't a huge deal.''
``It was a big deal,'' Susie said, looking at King. ``Still rotting away in here, huh?''
``Locked in here or left alone to roam up there, it doesn't really matter,'' King said. ``The Roaring has happened and it'll only be a matter of time before I am ground to dust along with everyone else above me.''
Lancer frowned. ``We're doing a great job at holding back the Titan.'' He stood up, puffing out his chest. ``In fact, I actually beat one of the Titan spawn the other day.''
King tensed. ``They put you in harm's way.''
Lancer frowned and looked like he was about to answer.
``No, he put himself there,'' Susie interrupted. ``He's been running your kingdom in your absence. Someone has to step up and actually lead your people. And Lancer here is doing a really good job of it.'' She then added under her breath, so only she could hear. ``Better than you ever did.''
Lancer grinned. ``Thanks Susie.''
``If you lot are conscripting children then I guess I won't be down here for too much longer,'' King grumbled.
Susie looked away. She was here for Lancer, not to argue with this asshole about whether their cause was hopeless or not.
``You know we could really use your help,'' Lancer said, grabbing the bars to his father's cage. ``I know that Ralsei and the Council don't want to keep you down here. You're really strong and we could...'' He sighed. ``We could really use your help, dad.''
King looked to his child and for a moment it seemed that there was genuine progress made. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light but it almost seemed that there was some real pain there. Susie shook her head. It must've just been a trick of the light.
He hadn't budged in five years. Why would he do so now?
``Come live down here,'' King said. ``Enjoy some comfort while you still can.''
Lancer drew away from the bars. ``I can't do that, dad. There are darkners out there who still need me.''
Susie pushed off from the wall, reaching out to him. But he instead turned back to his father, waving her off. ``I know you aren't a bad guy. I just wish you weren't also not a good guy either.''
``I am what I am,'' King said, scoffing. ``The Knight deemed purification necessary and it is wrong to stand in their way. You are just prolonging your suffering by remaining defiant in the face of that reality.'' He shook his head. ``My offer will always stand, son.''
Susie glared at him. ``How can you say that?''
``Because I am smart enough to stay down here,'' King chided.
Lancer stepped back. ``Come on you two, we don't need...''
``You are rotting my son's mind and putting him in harm?s way,'' King quickly followed up, glaring at Susie.
Susie cackled. ``I am putting myself out there every week and beating back the apocalypse. You know what's putting him in harm's way? You staying down here.'' She threw up her hand. ``In fact, why does harm's way even matter to you? You are the one who says we just need to embrace the Roaring. So, who cares about harm's way, you fucking idiot. We'll all reach that ending together at one point or another!''
King seemed genuinely struck by that comment, having nothing to follow it up with. Honestly, it felt kind of good to get that over on him, seeing the way he was stricken by the statement, left in an especially blissfully and equally silent stupor.
Susie wanted to twist the knife, she really did.
``I...'' King started.
``Susie!'' Lancer yelped.
Susie tore her gaze away from King, seeing Lancer flinching upon garnering her full attention. Was she really that scary? His eyes were blurry and she winced as she noticed tears welling up within his eyes.
``Shit,'' she whispered, rushing over. ``Hey Lancer, buddy, how about we get out of here?''
He threw his arms around her and she hugged him back in turn, squeezing him so tightly. She was there for him, his guardian. This was something that she could do, she could keep her composure and take care of him even if his own father was a royal asshole.
She could be the person that she wished she had growing up.
``Count down from ten,'' Susie whispered. ``That's what Gerson taught me.'' She patted him on the shoulder. ``Ten.''
``Ten,'' Lancer repeated, hiccupping. ``Nine, eight, seven...''
The number fed into one another and his composure started to return, his grip less shaky and more relaxed upon her shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at her, that misery quick to fade.
``How about we get some ice cream?'' Susie asked.
Lancer nodded.
Susie pushed him forwards, not bothering to look back at King as she headed for the exit.
``I thought he'd finally see things like I see them,'' Lancer croaked.
Susie frowned and patted the top of his head. ``I thought so too, kid.''
A white lie but sometimes those were better than the real truth.
She glanced over her shoulder, ready to throw a glare in the disgraced King's direction. Yet something caught inside of her as she noticed how miserable he seemed, staring dumbfounded as they left. He was even out of his chair, feebly reaching through the bars.
Good... let him feel powerless, let him know there was a cost for doing this to his son. Maybe then he'd learn to actually do something good with his miserable fucking life.
Susie scoffed. As if.
``Susie?'' Lancer asked.
Susie chuckled, lying through her teeth. ``Sorry, just thinking of a joke.''
``A joke?'' Lancer followed up, grinning. ``Can I hear it?''
Susie pursed her lips together, promptly realizing what a bad idea that lie had been. ``Uh... maybe when you're older.''
``I'm fourteen!'' Lancer grumbled.
Smooth one, Susie...
[hr]
There wasn't such a thing as a bad darkner, just good darkners who were misguided. It was a philosophy that Columbone had for a while now. Every petty crime had a root and that root was generally good-natured in origin.
For example, the current case, investigating some missing supplies for Queen's new data turrets. What would be the reason to nab those and still be considered ethically good? Perhaps they were using them to help build some houses after the last attack knocked a couple of commission. Or maybe the thief didn't realize how important they were and were selling them to raise some Dark Dollars for a good cause.
When you thought of a motive, it became easier to explain who might be compelled to buck the rules in favour of achieving it?
``Have any of the boys lost their homes lately?'' Columbone asked, tapping away at a notepad.
The worker, a cup from the Church District, shook its entire body as if it were their head. ``Not that I know of Detective. A lot of the boys were lucky that the Titan spawn which hit our district only damaged the Cathedral.''
Columbone perked up at that. ``The Cathedral was damaged?'' That could be a motive. Those folks really took pride in that building. ``Must've been a nasty blow.''
``It was,'' the cup said, sighing. ``But a few of the guys are working in their spare time to put it back together.''
``The guys here?'' Columbone asked.
The cup bobbed its entire body as if it were nodding. ``They sure are, Detective. Turns out there really isn't a whole lot of difference between laying down the foundation for a data turret and laying down the foundation for our Cathedral.''
Columbone was sniffing a lead, he could sense it. He scribbled idly, not wanting to play his hand too quickly, less he scare off his mark... or maybe marks in this case. ``Well thank you for the help, this conversation was really enlightening. If you think of...'' He paused, running a hand through his hair. ``Jeez, I'm sorry, just one more thing came to me.''
The cup blinked. ``Yes, Detective?''
``Could any of the missing supplies be used in Cathedral construction?'' Columbone asked.
The cup frowned and shook its body. ``No, Detective, a lot of them were highly specialized parts that could only really be used in Cyber City technology.''
``Is that so...'' Columbone tapped away at the paper, adding this detail in while crossing out a few other points that were no longer relevant. The culprit was either dealing in Cyber City affairs or was stealing to make it look like as much.
He waved to the cup and exchanged goodbyes, absently running over the information in his head. As he did so, he looked around the worksite. All sorts of darkners were busy on this project with every Dark World represented. More than a few of them were denizens of Cyber City: Swatchlings, Tasques, and even Werewires.
Question was if one of them was involved or if someone was trying to pin the blame on them to hide another currently unknown cause.
It wasn't something he could really speculate on with the current amount of information he had. He needed more of it and there was only one to go about that. And that was to fill in some answers with a few questions of his own.
He wandered the grounds, keeping his eyes open as he stumbled through the yard. Even with the missing supplies, there was apparently a whole lot of work that needed to be done as darkners scurried around in construction gear.
To put them at ease, he merely loitered there, mostly kicking dirt and just watching. A question was a powerful thing. If used inappropriately it could be as destructive as it could be helpful. Something as simple as `where is the foreman?' could risk tipping off the guilty party and send them scurrying into hiding.
Instead, he popped a dog treat between his teeth and idly chewed upon it, gnawing away as he watched. It quickly became apparent that there was a central figure who the team was reporting to, a Swatchling who was dressed in a bright orange suit with a hardhat perched upon his head.
Columbone wasn't a gambling man but he had a feeling that this might be the foreman. Those Swatchlings seemed to be good leaders and knew this technology better than anyone aside from Queen and her inner circle.
He moseyed over to the figure, trying to look as buffoonish as possible without overdoing it. No one ever expected the bumbling idiot to be much of a threat. As he approached, he started to playact, seeming just a little clumsier than usual.
Until finally, the foreman finally took notice, rolling his eyes as he moved on over.
``Sir, this is a construction site,'' the Swatchling said. ``You really ought to be careful.''
Columbone looked around, nodding. ``Seems you folks are working pretty hard on something.''
``Her Majesty has commissioned a series of additional X-35 Data Turrets for the defense of Castle Town and we are simply fulfilling that commission,'' the Swatchling explained.
``Is that so?'' Columbone asked, nodding as he looked around. ``You know, I have a cousin who worked on building a few of those. He mentioned that they require some special coolant rods in order to operate.''
``Why yes they...'' The Swatchling stopped, narrowing his gaze. ``I don't think we've been properly introduced, Sir.''
Columbone shook his head. ``Where are my manners. Last name's Columbone. And you are?''
``Swatchling.'' The Swatchling narrowed his gaze. ``Columbone... that name sounds familiar. What is your first name?''
Columbone grinned. ``Detective.''
The Swatchling's eyes widened. ``Thee Detective Columbone.''
Dang, he hadn't wanted to reveal that card so soon. It could make them squirrely if they had something to hide.
``Okay you caught me, my cousin didn't work on this project,'' Columbone chided, sighing. ``But I heard that a few of these coolant rods might've gone missing and I just wanted to help set the record straight. Would you happen to know anything about them, Sir?''
Swatchling shook his head. ``Not a thing, Detective.''
``That's mighty unfortunate,'' Columbone said, scratching at his head. ``I thought an important guy like you might know who would want something like that and for what purpose.''
``I'm afraid n-not,'' the Swatchling stuttered.
Columbone perked up. Now that stutter was very interesting, very interesting indeed. Sure, an innocent man could stutter, especially when confronted by an authority figure like him. Yet, these Swatchlings seemed so composed, especially around authority figures. It was rare to hear them get like that.
``That's a shame,'' Columbone said, shaking his head. He could smell a lead but he needed to play it smart or he'd be led astray. ``You seem like a smart program. Could you possibly tell me what those rods might be used for.'' He smiled. ``Might help me figure out another angle about why they might've gone missing in the first play, you know?''
The Swatchling nodded, clearing his throat. ``They are used to help regulate the heat produced by the data cannons. The cannon is essentially powered by a CPU which generates heat upon use. Are you familiar with how a home computer requires a heat sink in order to operate?''
``I'm not,'' Columbone said.
``Well, the main parts of a computer can produce a tremendous amount of heat and if proper equipment isn't used that heat can damage a computer's components,'' the Swatchling explained.
``So, do you think that the person in charge of that heist wants a computer to get damaged?'' Columbone asked, frowning. ``Because if that were the case then we could be looking at some pretty serious espionage charges here.''
The Swatchling's eyes widened. ``Espionage?''
If Columbone didn't know any better he would've assumed that the Swatchling life had flashed right in front of his eyes. No, this creature knew a whole lot more than he was letting on and now he'd found a point of leverage.
He nodded. ``I mean we need those turrets to stay safe, right?''
``Right,'' the Swatchling whispered.
``And if someone was stopping those from getting built or was putting them in a position where they could get damaged.'' Columbone whistled, shaking his head. ``Well, I don't think any darkner has tried something like that since King. Last I heard, he was rotting away in a jail cell.''
``What if they did it for a good reason?'' the Swatchling asked.
Columbone cocked a brow, looking at him. There it was, the cracks starting to form. Now it was time for attrition to have its way and erode whatever defenses seemed to be formulating on the tip of his tongue. Maybe he could cut the kid a deal if he came clean.
``It would have to be a pretty good reason,'' Columbone said, shrugging. ``Those turrets are mighty important.''
``I have something to admit, detective,'' the Swatchling said.
Columbone nodded. ``You're kind of a bad liar, kid.''
``Queen never programmed us to be good at it,'' the Swatchling admitted. ``Always said that a computer's purpose is to be truthful, helpful, and smart.''
``Why are you working against Queen then?'' Columbone asked, frowning. ``You don't seem like a bad sort.''
They never did.
The Swatchling didn't look very surprised that he'd caught on. If anything, he just seemed resigned to it. He moved over to his desk and pulled out a chair, plopping down upon it. With a complete lack of grace, he buried his face into his hands. For a brief moment, it almost seemed that he was trying to compose himself. Though this was quickly disproven as the sobbing started.
``She's dying, detective,'' the Swatchling bellowed.
Columbone's eyes widened. ``Pardon?''
``You're on the council, you fool!'' the Swatchling shouted, gesturing towards him with an inferno in his voice. ``Can't you see it?''
Columbone paused and gave it some thought. Sure, she was running a little slower than before but wasn't that just due to age? He wasn't the spry chicken that he'd been a decade ago and he doubted that she was any different.
The Swatchling looked up at him with blurry eyes, staring him down. The creature cackled, rippling with this cruel form of laughter as he slowly shook his head. Whatever the joke was, Columbone must've missed it, finding it the opposite of funny. ``You don't see it, do you?''
Columbone had run into a lot of guilty critters in the past, a whole lot of folks that he had to lock up. Most of them would plead with him and a lot would yell at him. He wouldn't say that this was the first crook to laugh in his face but it was far more of a rarity.
``Detective,'' the Swatchling said, sitting up. ``Everyone of these turrets... every single defense is plugged directly into Queen's mainframe.''
Columbone nodded.
``Which means that whenever the defenses are needed, she alone is tasked with running and programming each of them. Do you know what happens to a computer when it doesn't rest?''
Columbone frowned. ``Probably what happens to a detective.''
``The parts start to wear down,'' the Swatchling explained. ``And the harder they run, the faster that breakdown occurs. Her mind is failing as her RAM and CPU are both pushed to the breaking point again and again. I can't...'' He sighed, looking down at his desk. ``I can't in good faith add more load to her systems. I won't be privy to killing her any faster than she is already killing herself.''
There was a fire in him, a self-righteous kind of vigour. No... this wasn't a bad program at all.
``So, take me away!'' the Swatchling shouted, holding out his hands. ``Lock me up and throw away the key. Or hell, exile me. It isn't like this city will offer anyone much safety soon enough with how quickly Queen is going rampant.
Columbone frowned. ``I...''
A siren suddenly blared with a bright red light strobing again and again. It seemed that the Titans had a wonderful sense of timing.
``What now?'' the Swatchling whispered.
Columbone peered through the blinds, seeing various darkners rushing around in a frenzied state. A few of them, who seemed to have a good head on their shoulders, were taking the lead and ushering for others to get to various evacuation points.
``Right now?'' he growled. ``The last attack was only three days ago.''
He reached down and felt something plastic against his hand. It wasn't something he took lightly. Before all of this Castle Town nonsense, he had maybe drawn it ten or so times in all of his service.
Honestly, he kind of missed the good old days where this had been a scary outlier in his life.
``Get to the evacuation point,'' Columbone said, glancing at the overseer. ``Help any other darkners get there.''
The Swatchling blinked.
``You ain't a bad kid and we don't have time to deal with this right now,'' Columbone said, shaking his head. ``Let's just bury the hatchet until this is all over, alright?''
The Swatchling stirred and finally bolted to his feet, seemingly drawn into immediate action. ``Of course, Detective.'' He rushed towards the door and Columbone opened it for him, letting him slip through.
Now that Columbone was alone, he drew in a breath, shoring himself up. His heart was hammering and he could feel that familiar clammy terror in his core. No, he certainly wasn't built for something like this. He wasn't a leader. He was just a scared action figure way out of his depth.
But if he wasn't going to lead, then no one would.
He rushed out and drew his service taser, pointing forwards as he joined in on the frenzy.
``Everyone get your butts to the evacuation points!'' Columbone shouted.
All around him, the operational turrets aimed upwards and started to glow a vibrant blue. He tried to ignore that Swatchling's words, doing his best to pretend that each of these wasn't just another dagger plunged right into Queen's back. But it was pretty hard to ignore that fact now that he couldn't hide behind blissful ignorance.
One by one, these turrets started to fire, showering the void with a neon blue. Bolts of energy zipped ahead, moving faster than a bullet ever could. There were soon explosions out there in the vast darkness as they obviously hit targets far too small for his eyes.
A Pippin frantically zipped by and was followed soon after by a Tasque who bumped into Columbone. He couldn't enjoy the light show because he had a job to do. Those explosions wouldn't stop all of the spawn.
Columbone grabbed a radio off of his belt, clicking the button on top of it. ``This is Detective Columbone to HQ, over.''
A second.
Come on, man, pick up.
A garbled voice came through. ``This is HQ, we hear you Detective.''
Columbone sighed in relief. ``We have Titan spawn off of the east wall. We need emergency services to help evacuate the darkners working here.''
Another second which felt like an hour. In the field, these pauses felt like they lasted for a literal eternity.
His grip tensed upon his taser, his finger resting precariously on the trigger guard. He had never been good with this weapon. It was a tool used by the beat cops on the streets, not something that a Detective like him was supposed to use.
``Are you sure?'' the garbled voice asked.
Columbone scoffed. ``Am I sure? Son, I am looking at the turrets firing into the void as we speak.''
Was he sure? What would make someone ask something so silly at a time like this?
``Shit,'' the garbled voice cursed. ``We are mobilizing reserves to your location, Detective. The North, West, and South walls are also reporting concurrent attacks.''
All four walls were being bombarded?
``How can two Titans do that?'' Columbone asked.
But he already knew the answer.
``There are four of them, Sir,'' the garbled voice confirmed for him.
Columbone felt his stomach drop as this frigid chill coursed through his veins. He had seen some things in all of his years of service, not all of them kind. But it was rare to be confronted by something so dreadful that it seemed to just suck the life right out of him.
A Pippin bumped into him, jostling him and reminding him that these thoughts could wait until later. He had a job to do.
``Everyone get your behinds to the elevators!'' Columbone yelled. ``Help is on the way.''
CRASH!
A mighty boom ruptured to his left and Columbone whipped around to face it.
One of the massive data turrets had been smashed to scraps, the metal torn asunder from its mount. The weapon had clearly gone right over the edge, knocking the concrete of the wall asunder with it. There was a smouldering crater left behind, ashen smoke billowing upwards and hiding whatever was inside of it.
Columbone's grip upon the taser grew clammy.
``At least I'm not one day away from retirement,'' he teased. Though the joke bore little comfort as he touched his radio. ``We have an impact on our segment of the wall. Any ETA on when I should be expecting some help?''
The radio crackled back but no one said anything. It crackled again but no voice came through. Columbone tried to stay composed. If he panicked then that would cascade throughout the whole chain of command.
``There have been impacts across the entire wall,'' the crackled voice at dispatch said. ``We're spread thin, Detective.''
``Am I on my own?'' Columbone asked.
The voice sighed and Columbone could practically hear that resigned nod as if it really lingered within their voice. ``Please proceed with caution, Detective.''
Columbone scoffed. As if he would proceed with anything else aside from that.
The smouldering smoke started to dissipate and a black figure hovered in the middle of that crater. It looked like a fetus from one of those pamphlets that Undyne used to hand out to kids about safe sex. Though this one was far more deformed, dripping with brackish viscera that tainted the blue walls below.
It started to unfurl, reaching out with tiny half-formed hands. Its milky white eyes blinked. This creature was so unlike anything else which existed in any of the dark worlds. That was probably part of the reason that it was so utterly terrifying to look at.
The beast cried out with a misery older than time itself. Its roar made Columbone's knees shake, threatening to give out from under him.
Yet, he put one foot in front of the other, aiming directly ahead with that taser. Every part of him wanted to run but he was the only darkner who was able to do something about this, the only one powerful enough to put up even a semblance of a fight.
Curse the captain for making him the darkner in charge of his dark world.
``Guess this is a bad time to mention I named my boat `The Live Forever','' Columbone chided into his radio.
The operator chuckled. ``Why don't you show me some photos of your newborns the next time we get together.''
Columbone silently chuckled.
The beast floated towards Columbone. If he didn't know any better, it would've looked feeble and helpless. Still, there was no missing the trails of purple-black gunk it left behind, eroding the concrete with an efficiency that would've put any other acid to shame.
Columbone waited, counting down the steps between them.
Until finally, he was close enough that he pulled the trigger. His gun exploded and two cords flung forwards, embedding sharp barbs into the creature's flesh. He snarled as he held the trigger, watching as bright blue arcs of electricity crackled through the cord and fried the creature's carapace.
Is that enough to stop it? I hope it's enough to stop it.
