《RED-SHIMMER AQUATICA: A DENIAL OF DEVIL SIRENS. [DARK FANTASY]》 CHAPTER 1- AQUA: A FABRICATION OF VYROSMITHS. Fireworks lit the night-sky above Rumana¡¯Weseqathe. To the city-state¡¯s people, it was one of the most important days on their calendar. A fact they shared with Aquatica Njere¡¯Masali, for albeit very different reasons. Cause while they might¡¯ve been celebrating their Princess¡¯ birthday, she was there for the biggest job of her career. But it couldn¡¯t be done till later in the night, when their mark arrived from topside, so for now, she leaned on the stony railing of her temporary house¡¯s balcony and watched fireworks dance from the city¡¯s edge. Celebration for them. Abject torture for her. Oh, Why did you have to be so korring late? Her fingers clenched on the warm stone surface as her whole body stretched. Refilling her glass of whiskey, Aqua said, ¡°Vyra, call Nethema.¡± A blue orb appeared next to the Vyrosmyth, making her jump, and bump the glass-bottle off the railing¡¯s surface and into whatever oblivion awaited it down below. She blew out a sigh; ¡°Cho¡¯s treason, Blue stuff! What did I tell you about appearing next to me like that?¡± ¡°What did I tell you about calling me ¡®Blue Stuff¡¯?¡± Vyra asked, blue orb pulsating everytime words were sent out. Aqua rolled her eyes. ¡°Cho¡¯s treason, Vyra Systemborne,¡± she said. ¡°Now, you.¡± ¡°Now what?¡± the Pocket System asked. ¡°Call Nethema, and don¡¯t startle me while you¡¯re at it.¡± ¡°You already called him, fifteen times; in the last hour,¡± Vyra said. ¡°Thought startling you would do the trick. Help you exercise caution. Like a hiccup.¡± A sip from her glass. ¡°Can¡¯t help it,¡± she stretched again, turning back to the city and the lights floating above it. ¡°I hate waiting. After all this time, the only thing standing between us and jacking back into the Vyrodom is one job. And it¡¯s taking forever. Can you believe its finally happening.¡± ¡°Yes. I don¡¯t quite understand it, this unhealthy obsession with Fabre¡¯s network. But I can believe it would lead to your return. Unless we fail.¡± ¡°Unless we fail,¡± Aqua echoed, emptying her glass again. She let out a deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s not unhealthy.¡± ¡°Could have fooled me.¡± ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll bite. Why do you disapprove, Vyra?¡± ¡°Because even trying to go back is courting death, and you were lucky enough to come out of it alive the last time, barely. Vyrodom Fabrathe sees Vyrosmyths like you come and go everyday. Takes them in. Rings them dry, then onto the next one. You could be doing anything right now with your second chance. Designing your own Soul-Systems. Leading a division at Graystone Corp. Spending time with your son¡ª¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± a stern voice ordered. ¡°Anything, Aqua. Why this? Why try to go back to a place that almost killed you the first time round.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°Make me.¡± ¡°Sex. Drugs. Even other Vyronets. Nothing¡¯s ever made me feel that way before. That invincible. Nothing and No one,¡± she turned her gaze back to the Pocket System. ¡°I want it back.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the bait. How they steal your life away, from right under your nose.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m smarter, now. I know who they are. All of them. I don¡¯t just want Fabrathe back. I want them out. And the best part is, they won¡¯t even see me coming.¡± Vyra pulsed, about to say something back, before blue vanished underneath a sea of red. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Intruder detected! The house is compromised.¡± Aqua¡¯s heart dropped. Pytha? Was the lateness just a ruse? A carefully executed distraction while she pulled the rug from under us? But, how? There were guard-rails she¡¯d put in place to notify her if the Corporate Head even so much as peeked into the Soul-System. Guard-Rails which weren¡¯t exactly legal in most of Surumkathe. Guardrails built on top of the same foundation as the ones she¡¯d set around her hideout. If one could be broken, so could the others. But, again, how? Pytha led the second-most powerful Corporation in the Galactic World. Was a Sea-Serpent of great renown. Had lived centuries paying her problems away, however few, but with the added benefit of making sure everyone knew if they pushed too far, her form of laziness would wear thin and the fangs would come out. She wasn¡¯t confrontational unless examples needed to be made, and more importantly, she wasn¡¯t a Vyrosmith. Of course, she had legions of employees under her beck and call, few belonging to Aqua¡¯s class, some even trained by her, but most of them were too low-leveled to even attempt a slip of this magnitude, and the rest would have to brute force it. There would have been signs, alarm-bells Aqua would¡¯ve heard. Unless Pytha had someone new in her employ, a prodigy who could match the veteran, even if their ascension was recent. Unless Pytha was actually late, and this break-in had nothing to do with her at all. For Aqua was a powerful Vyrosmith, yes, but even she had a long way to go on an already charted path. Seven: that was the number of people who could slip past her armor in such a silent manner. Seven people who exceeded her in skill, while only one of them was lower leveled than her. Seven people, and six had aligned half a century ago, ceasing their war and uniting all the Soul-Servers and Tech-Dimensions each had conquered or created over the years into one banner. One nation. The Vyrodom Fabrathe. ¡°I don¡¯t think Pytha is the culprit,¡± the red orb pulsed. Aqua started walking toward the bedroom¡¯s door. ¡°Notify Nethema,¡± She said to the following systemborne. ¡°And activate my jaguar eyes.¡± Vyra was worried, on haunches as high as the Vyrosmith¡¯s. A normal request for activation would have received snark added onto by a warning of how many uses of the skill they had left and a request of her own for a final confirmation. Now, Vyra needed only the first. The mystic energy known as Techno-Mana still present in the Vyrosmith¡¯s Weight morphed at once into a more stable and more refined Energy Artifica which began flooding her body in an instant, filling her Organic Mystic Threshold in seconds and using part of itself to honor Aqua¡¯s request. The dark room beyond the entrance grew brighter to her, but not because its lights had been switched on. The night had let her in. Had let her sight in, improving upon it, if only for a moment, and ensuring no more stealth caught her unawares. A light-show from the city. Her pocket system thrumming behind her. Aqua took a breath and made her way into the house which was supposed to be a haven, but could now prove to be the site of a rather timely death. CHAPTER 2- AZTHEL: A WALL OF PROPHETS. The Manor¡¯s outer wall felt wrong: the reason you gave for refusing to enter the prophets¡¯ meeting place. It had sounded nonsensical, even to your own ears; and you¡¯d tried to countermand it; to tell yourself it was stupid to be scared of a place literal prophets were choosing to enter; but it hadn¡¯t taken. And the friend who¡¯d brought you there; the friend who¡¯d promised to cancel their plans for the evening and go back home if you weren¡¯t up to the task at any moment of the little get-together; they¡¯d decided to go on and call you a whimp, enter the manor that was probably going to be in your nightmares for the next month, and leave you out in the cold. Where you¡¯d been for the last hour or so, waiting like a dog because if you wanted to leave the tech-dimension, the house it would land you back on in the Physical required their authentication, and if you wanted to stay, the closest, cheapest hotel was an hour south-west. You¡¯d sent them messages, trying to get them to give you their house¡¯s code, but they¡¯d ignored all your pleas. And now, you sat atop a short rock fence a few feet behind a brown, wooden bench watching the Manor and wondering why you didn¡¯t want to enter its walls. Cho¡¯s korring treason! The sound of footsteps along the estate¡¯s road, coming closer. The entire outer compound had been empty since the last of the prophets had entered the house. No one entering and no one leaving, with the exception of the lady who''d brought you refreshments. A late-comer, or someone malicious; there to abscond with a lonesome woman no one, not even her own friend, would miss? Standing from the rock fence, dirty plate still in hand, you anticipated its use, while staring at the figure stepping closer and closer toward you. Soon enough, they¡¯re close enough to see clearly. A dark-skinned man with red, short-cropped hair, wearing a black long-coat over a brown shirt and dark-blue cargo pants. The face looked familiar, but you couldn¡¯t place it. He started walking faster, his gaze right on you. The plate fell, forgotten, and you turned intending to run, but the ground started to give way. Footsteps, louder and faster, accompanied by yells reverberated behind you and made your ears ring. Managing to run all of five steps toward the Manor, you fell onto the gravel on the third, nausea forcing the food you¡¯d just eaten out. The world went blurry, but you managed a few sightings, as your mind shut down. The Manor¡¯s front door open, and the lady in a thin, white sweater and red long-skirt who¡¯d offered you food standing at the porch watching, as the red-haired man¡¯s shadow came upon you. Hand reaching out to her, you stammered out a final plea before a solemn darkness took you. A thousand hammers hitting every ounce of your body; that is what you felt like in waking. Eyes still closed, you groaned, letting your hands feel the surface beneath. Wood. As if someone had played a prank and stolen your mattress after you¡¯d already fallen asleep. Though, you didn¡¯t remember one side of your bed ever carving upwards. The memories hit you like a hammer. A lady in white. A man in black. Eyes flitted open, and your upper body surged upwards. Head turning every which way, as your hand tightened its grip on the bench¡¯s back rest. The man lied on the rock fence you¡¯d vacated earlier, using his coat as a pillow, while the Lady was still standing on the Porch, with a few people behind her, most notable, your friend¡ªNenewi¡¯Jasutha, who was yelling at her, while pointing a hand at you. Nena, doing the honorable thing, speaking on your behalf? Unlikely. So why¡­ You rose from the bench, intending to go there and talk to them, get the code to their korring house so you could leave the nightmare, maybe. Gazing at him for a second, you wondered whether he was going to make a run on you again before taking a step. Nena had realized you were awake, and was gesturing for you to bolt it, come to the house. But its walls still felt wrong. Deal with it when the problem comes. For now, its a solution. You prepared to run. ¡°Some friend you have, Azami¡¯Wuthelynria,¡± the man said, hand still covering his eyes. ¡°Makes me feel vindicated for having none, and that should not be the case.¡± Walking a step toward him, you asked; ¡°how do you know my name?¡± ¡°I know lots of names, Letheka¡¯Pabaru,¡± There was a reason you¡¯d wanted to meet with Prophets, and had seen this night as an opportunity to do so. A vision, both you and your sister had had while being halfway across the galaxy from each other. The mining of the core, done till the Supermassive was exhausted. An implosion, that would start from it but cover the whole breadth of the Galaxy Surumkathe. The answer to human hubris. And the birth of something new. Beings born of the imploded core. Meant to safeguard it from further abuse. Letheka¡¯Pabaru. Core-Wraith. There was only one person who knew that name. ¡°Qatha sent you,¡± that¡¯s how you recognized him. He was her partner in crime. A thief of most renown, wanted by the Graystones themselves. ¡°Merely wanted me to look out for you.¡± He let his hand fall off his face and his back rose from the fence, leaving his legs dangling off it.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Why did she tell you about the vision?¡± You walked toward him. ¡°Because I¡¯m a Wall-Climber.¡± His legs slowly swung. ¡°Stop that! It¡¯s making me dizzy,¡± you sat back on the bench. Watch Nena as they yelled at you from the Manor¡¯s door. Tried to make you come towards them. Why couldn¡¯t they? ¡°Wall-Climber?¡± ¡°What do people like calling Prophets?¡± A smile threatened to form on your face. ¡°A wall.¡± ¡°Because they rarely make sense. Even to themselves.¡± ¡°So you what? Understand them better. Them and their prophecies.¡± ¡°Yeah. But it¡¯s just a skill. Could use it seven times before it stops working. The first time I ever used it was on your sister, and her vision.¡± You turned to look at him. ¡°She¡¯s not a prophet. Neither am I.¡± ¡°Walls aren¡¯t just for prophecies. You put them around memories too. The memory of your birth, for instance.¡± ¡°But Surumkathe still exists.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll exist after impending doom. Only in ruin; but it¡¯ll exist.¡± ¡°Korring Time Travel! That¡¯s your answer, oh great Climber of Walls?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be born from a Supermassive Black Hole that¡¯ll be mined to an almost death. I¡¯ve met other Core-Wraiths; many dormant like yourself, and many activated. Some way older than me. Not all of you were going to follow the universe¡¯s timeline. Be born to ruin in order to fix it.¡± Nena had resorted to kneeling on the ground, hands clasped together, making their own pleas to you. The lady just kept gazing at you. ¡°They can¡¯t leave the house, can they?¡± ¡°Started a soul covenant with the lady in white the minute they entered. Until they complete it, their lives are void.¡± ¡°Why did you run at me?¡± He pointed at the ground, and the plate which lied there. ¡°Word of advice. Never eat food a stranger gives you. Especially when they live in a Manor you refuse to enter.¡± Core-stench. ¡°What were they going to do to me?¡± He pointed at the lady gazing back. The other prophets had started taking Nena¡¯s lead, kneeling in supplication, begging for your aid. ¡°Turn you into another her. Another Djinn they could live lavishly off and buy expensive houses through till they needed to renew the power. Find another sucker.¡± ¡°There were others.¡± ¡°There are always others, Azami. Always the same house too. Greed and Laziness. Hand in hand.¡± ¡°You knew.¡± ¡°There are dozen of societies like this one in my Tech-Dimension alone. Full of Wannabe Prophets. Tormenting people they once called friends. You just happen to be the one person Qatha asked me to protect,¡± The Tech-Dimension¡¯s spirit-system said. You turned back to look at him. His eyes glowed a strange blue. ¡°I see why you haven¡¯t any friends.¡± ¡°Gets lonely sometimes; but I manage.¡± You stood from the bench. ¡°Take me to her. Take me to my sister.¡± He nodded, jumping from the short fence onto the grass. ¡°There¡¯s a reason I didn¡¯t take you to her while you were asleep.¡± He gestured at the wailing crowd. You turned back to look at them. At Nena, crying like their life depended on it. At the watching Djinn. ¡°I can save them.¡± ¡°The Djinn is connected to you until the Soul-Covenant is completed. That means seven boons. Seven souls you can save. Seven expensive houses you could wish for.¡± ¡°And I bet you recommend the latter.¡± ¡°Nothing beats a good view, Azami. Be careful, though. Djinns are known for their trickery.¡± You considered, watching your wannabe sacrificers all the while. Your friend. Your Djinn, who for the first time, since you woke moved, pointing a finger at you. No, not at you. Or the Spirit-System. But at the dirty plate on the ground. Picking it up, you watched as she rubbed a gloved hand on another. You echoed her, rubbing the plate like a lamp. Something touched your shoulder. Your eyes peered at it. A red, gloved hand. You turned to look. The lady in red and white, standing behind the bench, lowering her hand. Eyes go back to the porch. No one there. No one but Nena and their crowd of mimickers. I can save them. I can save her. My friend¡­ No, not my friend. A gaze at the Man behind the Djinn. He nodded his head. A trickster. He called the lady a trickster, while all you saw was a person he¡¯d abandoned. A person who didn¡¯t have Qatha as a sister. A person who needed saving. Why would she trick you, if your boon serviced her in some way. So, you considered, and after a minute or two, found a way to benefit both parties of the Soul-Covenant. ¡°I like the house, Djinn. Cleanse it in any way you would like so I might live in it without worry.¡± Cleanse it in way she would like, even if it meant purifying it by means of death, or by freeing any soul locked in its walls. By freeing herself. The Djinn smiled, and gave a nod. Screams from behind you. Not ones made in supplication. You turned to look, and witnessed the Lady in Red and White begin her work. Sweater soaked in red as she cut open the neck of a white-haired man. You didn¡¯t have to look behind you again to know she¡¯d vanished from there. Sitting back on the bench, you watched with a smile as Nena finally understood you were not going to help them. As they stood and ran into the house, tripping once before getting inside. You watched as a free Djinn followed in tow. Footsteps, behind you, coming closer; but you didn¡¯t cower. ¡°Skill Achieved: [Wall-Climber], Level 1¡ªSeven uses permitted only within the Tech-Dimension, Avodon¡¯Belerithe. Do you Accept, Azami¡¯Wuthelynria Avendari?¡± The Spirit-System asked. ¡°I do, and friends call me Azthel.¡± ¡°Nethema Systemborne. A friend may call me... Theme,¡± he moved to the front and sat beside you. ¡°Beautiful name.¡± ¡°Right back at you.¡± Nena¡¯s screams echoed across the compound, coaxing out a small laugh. You didn¡¯t feel cold anymore, and soon enough, the Manor¡¯s walls stopped feeling... wrong. CH 3- AQUA/VYRA: THE POWER OF NAMES. ¡°Where are the life signs?¡± Aqua whispered, and soon enough an image implanted itself into her mind. Black surrounding¡ªthe dinner room, and two red figures, one sitting and one sprawled on the ground. No more. A part of her was relieved, even though it most likely meant one of her team-mates was dead. Even though they could be a distraction meant to keep her from seeing a myriad of other hidden foes. Even though if the foes numbered only one, and not an entire fabrication, was a probable loss for the Vyrosmith before she¡¯d even entered the ring. If someone was willing to pester her like this, and they didn¡¯t feel the need to come with company in order to do it¡­ Korring Core-Wraith in a basket. Already, the tips of her fingers and toes grew soar. A Younger Aqua would have been rubbing at them already, to the friendly mockery of a fellow student she¡¯d once considered a close confidant. Now, she stretched her hands and feet before leaving the forming bruises alone, moving across the warm, mahogany floor past the undone bed. She and a silent, dull orb reached the door to the spacious room, ears growing more sensitive by the second trying to pick out anyone waiting on the other side. ¡°What¡¯s the word on Nethema, Red-Stuff?¡± She whispered, and sensing no threat beyond, gripped the door post, turned and pulled. No response. Either you cried jaguar too many times over the past hour, let alone the year, and he¡¯s simply chosen to ignore you, or¡­ Or the signals weren¡¯t going out. Core-Wraith. Any chance you can break-through. Depends. Someone called Red-Stuff definitely can¡¯t. Wouldn¡¯t trust them with a task this important. But Vyra Systemborne, someone with a name that deserves to be used: maybe they can do it. The hall¡¯s floor was colder than the room¡¯s. Cold enough to irritate Aqua¡¯s bare-feet, even as they grew thicker. ¡°Are we really doing this now?¡± she hissed. Depends, the Pocket-System said through their mind-link. They reached the spiral stair-case leading from the second-floor. She gazed down past the wooden railing. A light as dull as the orb¡¯s but golden reached out across the part of the ground-floor visible to them. She turned to look at her companion. ¡°They¡¯re just nicknames.¡± ¡°Not to me,¡± She pulsed. Where Aqua touched the railing, fingernails threatened to slough off. More painful than mere soreness. She remembered her childhood, before and after the Vyrosmith Primus took her in. The mean names. Friends gave each other nicknames, that was the way of things. Even if they made you cry. Even if they hurt you without the added benefit of Jaguar strength and senses. You gave each other nicknames, because you were friends. No. People had died in the past because they¡¯d insulted her. What were those names if not a pseudo-purified form of insults. What were those friends if not glorified bullies. Only one had ever felt appropriate. From a friend she¡¯d loved enough to marry one day, even though their life together had ultimately fallen through. It had been a name she¡¯d considered beautiful. A name she¡¯d carried into adult-hood, till another friend had shown up at the edge of her bed one morning, a reward for graduating from her studies, and she had seen it fit to give over the name to a person just as grand. And now, she was abusing it. Abusing her. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Being a bully. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Vyra. I was being disrespectful. A name shouldn¡¯t make you feel like a dying-core, and even if it didn¡¯t, shouldn¡¯t make a difference if you still don¡¯t want to be called by it. I¡¯ll behave, promise.¡± The red faded away, succeeded by an all-consuming purple. Aqua¡¯s normal skin wouldn¡¯t have reacted to the light, but her morphed one did, feeling the warmth, the threat of ensuing heat. She moved a step toward the right, away from the beam. The railing bent. Three of her fingernails fell off as it did, one falling all the way down to the mahogany two floors below. Claws began to take their place, pushing off the nails that had so far managed to barely stay put. One aspect of the [Jaguar.Eyes] skill she didn¡¯t like: how much her pain was amplified as well. A balancing act. Couldn¡¯t have the benefits without their growing weeds. The wood beneath her scratched, glowing red claws coming into contact. Deep ridges formed on the ground as she backed away from the railing, all the way onto the white wall behind her. She leaned against it and allowed herself to breathe. Everything¡¯s alright. Everything is al-right. She thought about the ruined floor she stood on. About the laugh she heard from down below. About her dark-purple skin. About the friend hovering further away from her, bright glow already turned back down to a manageable one. She thought about all of them, and all the senses which allowed her to see and feel and hear them more clearly, and tuned herself down. Everything was alright. Would be alright. All she had to do was breathe. ¡°Sorry for startling you¡­ again,¡± Vyra said after a few minutes. She nodded. ¡°Guess we both have some behaving to do after this little... reunion.¡± ¡°You recognized the laugh?¡± The Systemborne asked. A part of Aqua had known who it was before the little hint had been given out. The person who had occupied most of her dreams and nightmares both since the unification. ¡°A message from Nethema. He¡¯s on his way.¡± ¡°What about the purple glow?¡± ¡°We can do it after.¡± ¡°She¡¯s not here to kill me,¡± Aqua said, a little doubt in her voice. ¡°Best to do it now before it takes more from us.¡± A wait. A short one, but for one such as Vyra, it could¡¯ve been classified as long. She was considering, maybe stalling just a bit to expend all the opportunity she had to make the Vyrosmith change her decision, but considering all the same. She considered and then the purple pulsed a little bit brighter. ¡°Aquatica Fabre Njere¡¯Masali, Lvl 41 Vyrosmith. Your Skill, [Jaguar.Eyes] Lvl 37 has been depleted down two levels. 43/44 uses remaining. Do you Accept or will you lose the skill forever?¡± the Pocket System proclaimed. Two years. She¡¯d lost two years of growth. Of careful progression. The right things to say, the wrong-enough mission to do, all so her skill could go up. And she¡¯d now fallen back down some steps. Not as bad as some people had had it in the past. Losing the skill in some cases, or worse, the entire class or their life in the process. She had been warned when she¡¯d began this path. The Class of the Vyrosmith was a dark class. Do bad deeds, and it could reward you. Do good, by apologizing to your friend for instance¡­ and you lost two years. She was glad to find that she didn¡¯t regret it. It sucked, and it would continue to suck, but it had been the price for a growing bond with someone she cared about. A price she would have paid ten-fold. Everything was alright, would continue to be alright. ¡°I accept, Vyra. I accept,¡± Aqua said, and at once felt her chest tighten and her senses dull. With no where to go, a sliver of the Energy Artifica that her body could¡¯ve housed an instant ago flitted into the air, expunged, and a Weaker, less-skilled Vyrosmith let out a groan.