Chapter 96: Unleashed
I tell Boris I need a perfectly straight vanguard line. Wall of shields. Pure defense.
Boris looks at
like I just asked him to hold back the ocean with a tablecloth. "You want dieval siege tactics against starving beasts?"
"Your soldiers defend. That’s all they do tonight. The offense is mine. Build the wall."
Boris exhales. Drops his shoulders. Accepts. Not because he believes in the plan—because he bet on
when we mounted the Ferredons, and stopping now would an admitting the bet was wrong.
We pass through the gates.
Boris dismounts and starts barking orders at his officers. The change of formation ripples through the ranks in a wave of confused faces and imdiate compliance.
Nobody questions the commander. Not out loud.
I dismount and hand the reins to Jacob. Give the Ferredon a pat on the hindquarters. The animal swivels its ferret head and stares at
with an expression that could be gratitude or a bite assessnt.
Hard to tell with these things.
"Lola. Co here."
She walks to . Rigid. Quick steps but controlled—the gait of soone holding themselves back from sprinting.
She stops in front of
and just stands there. Looking up. Waiting. No words. The half-lidded eyes are wider than usual, and her body is wound tight.
Sothing is different.
I crouch to her eye level. "Can you get up to the sa tower? Sa position as last ti."
She nods. Doesn’t speak.
I register it. Lola is anxious. Not the bored kind that cos from waiting for permission. This is anticipation anxiety. The kind that locks muscles and shortens breath.
I’ve given her similar orders before and gotten complete indifference in return.
This reaction is new.
Why now?
Last ti she fired Lullaby, the entire battlefield froze. Two thousand soldiers scread. Monsters vaporized in a fifty-foot radius. And she got a "good girl" and a "rest up" on comms.
This ti I told her: after my signal, as many tis as you want.
I removed the limiter. And she felt it.
I file the thought. Focus.
"You’re full of surprises, little bear." I point at the stone tower on the wall. "Go. Set up."
She leaves in quick steps. Holding herself back from running. The tal case bounces against her small back with each stride. The plush keychains on the case straps swing like pendulums.
Terrifying child. The smile almost escapes.
I turn to Rhayne. "You rest this round. Don’t push yourself."
"I don’t want to be a burden..."
"You’re not. You’re one of the most valuable assets I have. That’s exactly why I’m keeping you off the field."
Her mouth opens to argue. Closes. She accepts—but the look in her eyes makes it clear that accepting and agreeing are two different operations.
"Oliver. With . If you need to burn off that anger, we’re about to break so jaws."
Oliver produces the first real smile since Brendon. It’s not joy. It’s rage finding an approved exit. He doesn’t say a word. Swings the warhamr onto his shoulder and moves.
Lola’s anxiety flickers through my mind again.
She’s never reacted like this. Does she sense sothing about Phase Two that her body is already processing before her brain catches up?
I decide to trust her. No alternative.
I walk to the remains of the pyre—cold now, just hot ash and a thin ribbon of smoke. I sit down. Oliver and Rhayne settle beside .
I check my reserves.
[OXI: 1,180/1,600]
I pull seventeen Scales from my inventory and chew them slowly with a sip of water from the canteen.
[Scales: 607 -> 590]
[OXI: 1,600/1,600]
Full tank. Good.
The battlefield stretches ahead of us. The carcasses from Phase One have been mostly cleared—only massive stains of black blood remain, soaked into the sand like maps of continents that don’t exist.
The soldiers are assembling at the gate. The formation takes shape—a long, straight line of interlocked shields stretching the full width of the approach.
No V. No wedge. No funnel. Just a wall.
The sound starts low. A vibration more than a noise. I look down at the ash pile. The last embers crumble into red dust, shaken apart by sothing I can feel in my heels.
Boris walks over. His face is different from Phase One. Heavier. Tighter. The jovial commander who rode the wedge with a grin is gone. This version of Boris carries the weight of knowing what Phase Two brings.
"Second wave runs heavier," he says. "Rank D as baseline. So C mixed in. If the pattern holds."
"And if it doesn’t?"
Boris looks at . Doesn’t answer. Doesn’t need to.
I touch Oliver’s shoulder. "Get ready."
Then sothing hits .
"Rhayne."
She lifts her eyes.
"Change of plans. Head to the wall. The small tower on the left where Lola is. Link with her right before she fires."
Her eyes light up. Utility. Purpose. The thing she needs most right now.
"But careful," I add. "Lola’s OXI consumption is insane. Keep the Link short. Absorb the excess from the discharge, not the full cycle. If you start bleeding, break it."
Rhayne nods. A small smile—the first in hours—and she heads for the wall at a steady pace.
I look at Oliver.
He’s already standing, warhamr on his shoulder, eyes locked on the main gate. Every monster that cos through that opening tonight is wearing Brendon’s face in his mind.
I don’t need to motivate him. Grief already did that work.
The dust cloud is forming on the horizon. A brown smudge against the false stars, widening with every second. The ground trembles beneath the weight of sothing massive approaching.
I look up at the stone tower where Lola is positioning herself.
My heart rate spikes.
Through the narrow window of the tower, I can see her silhouette. She’s already prone. Lullaby is deployed—the long barrel extending past the stone ledge, the blue lines along its length glowing brighter than I’ve ever seen them. The weapon is humming. Not the idle hum of standby mode. A deeper frequency. Hungry.
And Lola’s hands aren’t shaking.
They’re perfectly still.
"Sothing wrong?" Oliver asks, reading my face.
I stare at the tower for one more second. At the small, motionless silhouette behind the weapon that leveled fifty feet of battlefield in a single shot. The girl I told she could fire as many tis as she wants.
"I think I just uncaged sothing that wasn’t ready to co out."
Reviews
All reviews (0)