Chapter 29: Figures in the Flames

"You...you're kidding, right?" Barak stuttered, almost stumbling off his crutches.

His eyes were wide; Mark could vividly smell the salty liquid leaking from Barak's pores.

"Shit. Shit!" Barak cursed. "Carry me to the control room."

Mark frowned, unable to determine what was being said as Barak spoke faster than the tablet could relay. The words appeared moments later, Mark hesitantly glancing up at him.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Barak aggressively nodded, gesturing for Mark to hurry up. Grunting from exerting his flight again, he grasped the man under the arms. Mark hauled him over the slick and slippery crimson floor to their destination.

The duo entered the room, Mark's face drooping at the thought of the receptionist's body still there. Yet, unable to find it, he dropped Barak off at a chair in front of the consoles.

Mark watched as Barak rubbed his temples, the controls barely functional with the damage. Nevertheless, Barak's slender fingers pressed a few buttons as the remaining undamaged screens shot to life. No matter the news channel, mainstream or alternative, it all had one thing on them. Mark.

"-elievable, it's incredible! As you can see, images and video captured from the incident show what very clearly appears to be a flying human. Or, at the very least, a humanoid creature."

"I told you! I told you all! Aliens are real! Here is the proof! Living proof! No one can doubt my words any longer. But now the question remains, what is it? Who is it? Why is it here? What does it want? Questions need to be answered!"

Mark watched the subtitles, his expression wincing at the scenes.

'Shit.'

"It's plastered everywhere!" Barak cried to himself. "Social media is blowing up. Can we cover it up? No...of course not. Fuck."

He switched the news channels to foreign nations, the South American nations all speaking about it. Barak sighed, one of the segments even showing the Joaquin Cartel posting about it.

"They even know about the base," Mark uttered.

Barak pinched his brows. "Not hard to miss, all things considered. The news was live, too; thousands were watching. Then came social media. Ugh, it's breaking news pretty much everywhere." He paused. "M-Maybe we could say it was a hoax?"

He glanced at the footage, the environmental damages on show. "Guess not."

"Could...could we censor it?" Mark questioned, despite knowing the answer.

"No, of course not," Barak stated. "Censoring won't have an impact; better to either deny or commit to confirming. I'm...not sure what the top brass will decide. You, however, will be in an absolute shit storm in the coming days."

Mark read the tablet and winced. No matter how he looked at it, he was going to be at the centre of controversy.

"Yeah, I gathered that. Being deaf now really doesn't help."

Barak patted Mark's shoulder. "You'll be fine. The schedule will move up, and you'll probably have to show yourself to the world. What comes after...I can't predict."

"And how do we explain the absolutely decimated countryside? You don't think people will be scared? Question what happened? What about foreign governments."

"People will fear you either way." Barak shrugged. "You aren't alone, Mark. If not Britain, but me and Jenny. The US will probably try something; today may have been them. It's too coincidental; their investigation and then the attack..."

"So, if it was the US. Surely we can do something?"

Barak scoffed. "We do nothing. Whether it was them or someone else is up to debate. But we can't beat the US at practially anything. France and Russia are with them, too. All because of Mars."

"Mars?"

"Apparently, they've found something there. Everyone wants in on it. It's too deep for me to find; perhaps HAP could find it."

"This feels like a repeat of the Occupation. Everyone does nothing whilst the US and other superpowers terrorise the globe." Mark frowned. "Wait, Tayi is a French company, right?"

"It is."

"The giant - the monster - it had a sword. One of Tayi's swords."

"It had a plasma sword? Are you certain?" Barak's fingers tapped the console. "Strange...I would have been told."

"France is with the US though, no? Why is that strange? After what you've said, it makes sense for the creature to be American and equipped with French tech."

"No...it doesn't," Barak stated. "Sishaf is from old Egypt; he should despise the US. Why would he aid them? It makes no sense."

"Is there any point trying to discern something from so little?" Mark asked. "At this point, we're just brooding over events gone by. I'm way over my head."

"You might not be able to, but I've lived and breathed this for years." Barak smiled at Mark. "Go help with the recovery effort. Don't be a worry-wart; we'll sort everything, one problem after another."

With tablet in hand, Mark hovered above the floor, a few of the deceased still not removed. Floating outside, the sight of him uplifted the morale of the base denizens. Many took time to personally thank him, the experience rather surreal to Mark. Helicopters hovered above the base; aid already arrived as the military turned to the recovery effort.

Mark looked for someone in charge, finding a soldier of apt description barking orders. Soldiers hurried around him, carrying hoses and buckets to kill the fiery tornado that ravaged the armoury building. He moved over, lightly coughing to get the man's attention.

"Barak-Sir Jah mentioned I could help?" Mark said.

"Ah! Yes, of course," the man replied with enthusiasm. "You got any experience with putting out a fire?"

"No, but I think I've got something to stop it."

The soldier shrugged, gesturing for him to approach the inferno. "Be my guest. Anything would help."

Mark gazed into the flames, his eyes narrowing at vague figures dancing within the fire. There were two, childlike and playing with each other; two girls, twins perhaps. Flames emanated from their silhouettes, a poke from the soldier distracting him long enough for the figures to disappear when he looked back.

He clicked his tongue but smiled at the man. "Sorry, I got distracted."

The flames lapped at him, snapping like vultures at a dead corpse. They burned ferociously, everything inside becoming blackened and charred. The rain could do nothing, the blaze rising into the air in triumph. Standing before the fire, grimly remembering how he blew out his ears, he sighed.

Sucking in a deep breath, Mark unleashed it at the inferno, the fire barely able to battle before the flames were put out. Most of it was gone, turned to embers, but parts of the blaze remained. Mark blew again, the land turning frigid as the rain turned into chunks of ice that shattered onto the ground.

The soldiers shivered, frost creeping across the ground and sticking to their boots. Mark huffed, unable to feel the cold as he dragged himself to help with whatever the soldiers needed.

Hours passed, the sun rising on the horizon as Mark moved enormous blocks of cracked concrete. It was tedious, almost as bad as his old job at the pub, but it gave him something to do, stopping any contemplation of the coming days. He was not ready. He knew it, Barak knew it, but they could do nothing. Their hand had been dealt.

He entered his new accommodation, a room largely left undamaged in the carnage, one of only a few. They had put a little extra care, the bed far comfier than the last.

An orange glow shimmered through the glass as he got into bed. He did not feel tired, he could not, but old habits die hard. With no desire for sleep, it came to him easier, the irony not lost on him. He hoped it would be peaceful, but alas, the Void had other ideas, dragging his mind into the emptiness.

Mark lurched forward, barely keeping his balance. Worm-like ripples shook space, the nothingness quaking. He glanced around, eyes peeled and apprehensive about the sudden visit. No matter where he looked, there was nothing.

Then there it was, as if it had always been there, a familiar creature. He had killed it, put down the rabid monster. But here it stood unflinching, a towering behemoth of muscle. Shadow cloaked it, the amethysts for eyes cutting through the gloom.

'Why is it here? How is it here? This was why you brought me here? Why?'

His wonderings got no answer, the Void blending his body into nothingness. Mark steeled himself, unsure what was about to occur, but as of yet, the Void always had a reason.