You seem to have caused a bit of stir. . .

I shrug.

[Whatever. I don’t have time to move like an aspidochelone with the world on its back. Every moment I’m not with Aria is pressing against my tolerance.]

Off to the side away from the confused but much cheered-up mass of defenders, the local elf commander is wincing but speaking and pointing as he is being yelled at by the city’s associate vice blah blah leader of blah blah defense, or some such.

He’s a bureaucrat and, worse, he has no fucking clue about battle, defensive combat, or likely how to even hold a fucking hand mana projector. All he knows is how to yell at people to work harder and do more and we suck and he is the grand vice whatever leader of whatever.

What a troll’s ass. Frankly, his employment in the position he holds places this city and its people at risk. I think I might have to terminate him when I can get around to it.

Another shrug and I walk up to the gesticulating pair and say, “Excuse me.” They stop speaking and turn to me, the commander with a relieved look on his face and the politician with a furious one. “Commander, may I have a word? We need to discuss next steps.”

The elf opens his mouth with the beginning of a smile but is cut off before words can leave his mouth.

In a snide nasally voice, I hear, “No, he cannot. Go away whoever you are until I assign a competent commander to this post.”

The emphasis on “competent” is not lost on either the elf or myself. Then, without granting me another speck of his attention, the fool begins berating the commander again.

“You are being relieved of command, elf. I don’t even care what your name is because you are gone. You’ve failed at every turn to hold this position despite being given multiple Special humans.”

Once again, he places special emphasis on a word—this time, “humans.”

[Has the commander’s change in orders come through yet?]

No. It has not been filed. . .

Seems like the associate vice asshole wanted to let the commander know his opinion before relieving him of command. I step closer and speak again directly to the politician.

“I don’t think I have introduced myself.” He opens his mouth, no doubt to tell me how little he cares for my name when I say, “My name is Michael Victory. Of Victory Investments.”

The vice asshole freezes then. And smooth as infused silk, plasters on a huge fake smile on his annoying face. “Mr. Victory!” he welcomes me. “I’m so sorry I did not recognize you.”

He holds his hand out and I reach out to take it.

“My name i-”

Right as he is introducing himself, his knees suddenly collapse out from under him, and he is splayed on the ground, pale and shaking.

“Medico!” I call out loudly. “We need a medico here. Something happened to the associate vice leader. Help!”

My voice sounds downright scared at the end there. I’m quite impressed with myself. Kneeling down and over him, I place my hand in his and he turns even paler.

“Help is on the way. Don’t worry, sir.”

He falls still, a single final breath leaving his body.

“Sir? Hang in there, sir!”

A few seconds later two Medico’s rush over and kneel over him.

“Step back from your friend sir. We’ll help him.”

I reluctantly step back but keep my ankle touching his and say frantically, “You have to save him. He’s important to the city.”

“We will do everything we can, sir,” the lead medico tells me.

Unfortunately for the vice asshole, ‘everything they can’ is not enough. Nothing the medicos do could revive the already dead and drained human. I kneel down and close his open eyes with my hand and bow my head.

Letting out a shaky breath I look up at the medicos and ask, “What happened? He was so alive a moment ago.”

I’m trying not to gag at the stench of the body’s released bowels and bladder. Tough call whether he was worse alive or dead.

The one who spoke before says, “I don’t know for sure, but it looks like his heart failed. That can happen very suddenly. When extreme damage is done, even lightning along with life Magica equipment cannot start it again.”

I let out a sigh. “Such a shame.”

Standing, I turn back to the elf and find him with his mouth open like a fish and blinking at me with wide eyes. “Commander, let’s walk over here. I’m sure you are as shocked and dismayed as I am at this terrible tragedy.”

Looking over my shoulder I say, “Please take care of his body.”

They nod and I reach out, place my hand on his back, and guide the elf away from the medico’s doing their jobs. We reach a different area with a modicum of isolation and turn to the elf, all faux sadness gone from my face.

“I need orders authorizing me to attack the ants more proactively. Your defensive position should be solid for a while with the Specials you have now that the mass has been pushed back to the original entry point. I’ll be diving down in there so you should receive an even longer break, although I don’t doubt a good portion will get by or go around me.”

He blinks again, slowly closes his mouth, and asks, “Did you just-” and I clear my throat.

He stops speaking and slumps his shoulders. He says dejectedly, “Such a shame about the associate vice leader. I wish I could do as you ask, but unfortunately, I can no longer give you orders as I have been relieved of command.”

I chuckle, lean closer, and whisper, “Well, not quite. Associate vice leader asshole there never actually entered the orders to have you relieved. You are in command until he does so, which he isn’t going to have the opportunity to do now. Such a shame to leave work undone.”

The elf straightens up and taps his wrist device. “I see. Yes. A shame.” Clearing his throat he taps it again and, after listening to something in his earcomm, speaks to me. “Considering your meritorious deeds, history of service to the city, and license to function as a contractor for the UFH, you are ordered to assist as you are able based upon your own obviously excellent judgment.”

I smile widely and say, “Thank you, commander.”

***

Flashes of lightning and plasma lead me to where I hope the ant nest is. I am basically attempting to trace the largest groups of ants backward.

It appears that standard behavior for normally infused pavement ants does not apply to this corrupted variety. Standard tracing protocols are failing repeatedly. . .

I sigh and let fly another blast of plasma vaporizing a group of six.

[My mana is not going to last forever, especially taking so many blows from those damn needles. We need to find the fucking colony if we want to end this breakout any time soon.]

The problem we face is they are not looking to bring food back to the colony. They are attempting to kill and move on. You simply need to continue to trace to their source if possible. . .

“Fuck!” is pretty much all I can think to say.

My mana construct armor takes an unexpected blow to the side of my ribs and I am shoved off my feet and slide five meters on the ground to my left. What the fuck was that? I twist to my right to see the source of the blow to find only a lone flaming ant. Weirdly, this one is a good 25% larger than the rest and has only a single large spike in the center of its head rather than having numerous small randomly spread all over. It ducks its head and another needle, at least four times the size of the ones of the normal ants, flies towards me. I roll to the right, hear a thump as it strikes the ground and turns to ash, and as I settle on my rear fire four purple ovoid mana projectiles. It skittes to the side and they fly through the space it was in. What the fuck? Did that fucking ant just dodge? What is this thing?

Name:

{Corrupted} Engorged and Mutated Pavement Ant Warrior

Description:

Infused pavement ants generally live under large pockets of stone and are generally considered a less aggressive form of insect. They are scavengers that will eat almost anything but are considered a low level threat to humanoid life in cities as there are much easier ways to provide food for the colony.

This ant has been engorged and mutated by {Corrupted}

Level (or equivalent):

{Corrupted}

Condition:

{Corrupted}

Risk Assessment:

{Corrupted}

Value:

{Corrupted}

[Well, that can’t be good. None of the other ants have corrupted variables.]

I would think not. Perhaps there are varying levels of corruption?. . .

The corrupted ant lowers its head and I fire again, this time striking it as its vision is impared by having its head down. The mana projectiles burst all about the head, a few colliding with its large spike. The ant staggers and I continue to fire, hitting it all over until a loud screech echoes throughout the underground Pike plaza. Thankfully, I am wearing an isolation helmet with my urban assault armor so sound-based combat will be ineffective. The warrior insect then flares with black flames and charges at me, the tip of the spike aimed directly at me.

Jo told me some ants do this when they feel their life is about to end. It is believed that they burn all their remaining mana, create a barrier against mana with the corrupted flame, and, being unable to fire at range, charge to kill a target before they run out of mana and burst into the flames and ash. She also warned me that mana does not easily pass the fire shield and only solid projectiles seem to do so without nearly as much difficulty. Releasing a hand from the projector rifle and placing it on the ground to my left, I give the earth a smack causing multiple cracking sounds as four spikes of earth each nearly a meter long and three inches thick lance up from under the charging ant and impale along its body like a line of pointy shirt buttons. The ant’s body falls but continues to skid forward until, the point of its spike half a meter from me, it grates to a stop and explodes into ash.

I stand, pat myself down and check my weapon and then mana. That first surprise blow took 13% all by itself leaving me just 66%. Damnit. Each of the mini spikes from the worker ants - that was what inspect identified them as - only take about half a percent each. Draining over time, but individually ineffectual.

[I suppose it makes a kind of sense if there are workers, then there would be warriors. Yet more evidence this colony is not standard.]

Agreed. I find it likely the colony would have many of those guarding its more important areas or members. . .

[Agreed. So where did it come from?]

Only one way to find out. . .

I let out a hard breath and, with my rifle pointing forward, I step over the ash that was the warrior and attempt to follow its path. The one advantage I have in tracking the ants is that they do not clean up after themselves. They tend to leave all kinds of evidence of their passing including burns, scrapes, punctures, and ash piles which make it obvious where they’ve been. As far as I have been able to tell and Jo has validated based on reports and surveillance, they never appear to attack one another so the ash is one of this city’s humanoid residents. Was.

This particular ant was apparently quite a slob when it came to cleaning up after itself because I have absolutely no difficulty retracing its destructive path by following the mass of wounds on the floor and walls left in its wake. Ten minutes of antless tracking later, I hear the telltale clicking before I see its source. Stopping where I am, I slowly and silently step forward, sliding behind a steel column when I see another group. They are all skittering and chittering around a three meter hole in the wall. That leads into the blackness of a long dirt tunnel.

[Got it!]