XIX. | 'Come forth, ye jubilant devils...'

A line of police officers stood in Geoffrey's path. "Sorry, this area is closed off," one of them said.

Geoffrey's green balloon-hat waggled as he ogled the mass of rubble and abandoned vehicles behind the line. "What happened?"

"We can't disclose that information," the officer said. "Please turn back."

Geoffrey frowned, but obliged.

The prince's advisor, whose name Geoffrey had still not bothered to learn, was waiting for him at the nearest street corner--as was an enormous yellow-and-green boa constrictor. The man was clearly a wreck, and having the snake at his feet was doing him no favors.

"It seems we missed all the fun," Geoffrey said sadly. "Maybe we shouldn't have stopped at that amusement park after all."

The advisor watched the boa slither up Geoffrey's body and coil around the young man's shoulders. "I still don't understand w-why that thing listens to you..."

"Oh, it does not listen. It simply has no will of its own anymore." He scratched the snake's head. "Normally, animals tend to dislike me, you see. I was never very good with pets, but they did provide valuable practice."

Abruptly, a red-haired man turned the corner. "Over here, you said?"

'Yeah. Should be--ah, there it is.'

Geoffrey's brow rose as he spotted the reaper approaching from behind the stranger. "Why, hello."

The stranger returned a wide smile. "Wow, it really is an aberration! Hello there, little fella. How'd you get all the way out here to Atreya? Not lost, are you?"

Geoffrey tilted his head. "Excuse me? Who are you?"

"Ah, I'm Desmond Grantier. This is my friend, Ezmortig. I assume you can see him, yes?"

"I can. Why do you seem to know about me?"

"Oh, we belong to Abolish."

"Abolish?"

Desmond blinked at him. "Don't you even know where you come from?"

It was Geoffrey's turn to blink. "Where I come from?"

'Oh, Heavens, child! Don't tell me you think you're human!'

"No, I know I'm not. But I can't say I know what I am, exactly, either."

"You, my delightful friend, are what is known as an aberration. You are the offspring of the Void."

"The Void? What are you talking about?"

"It's a place," Desmond explained. "The Void is what we call the space between this life and the next. It straddles the line between realities. Ezmortig here, he always has one foot in the Void, so to speak."

'But it's also a consciousness,' said Ezmortig. 'People might tell you otherwise, but don't you believe them. The Void has a silent will of its own, and it spawned you and all your kin. With a little help from Abolish, of course.'

"There are others like me?"

"Of course. You thought you were alone this whole time?"

Geoffrey just shrugged, making his balloon-hat bob.

"If you'd been born into Abolish's care, that never would've happened."

'Interesting. I didn't think aberrations could be born in the wild. Perhaps you were simply separated from Abolish by way of some mix up.'

Geoffrey cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. "Are you saying I was switched at birth?"

'That's possible, too, but not quite what I meant. While I don't understand the finer details of the birthing process, I do know that aberrations are created after the fetus has already started growing in the womb. Maybe your mother received the treatment without her knowledge.'

Desmond smirked. "You think the research divisions have taken their work to public hospitals?"

The reaper paused. 'Actually, now that you say that, I don't think so. I doubt R&D would have been deployed to this country without a combat division for protection. There must be some other explanation for this boy's presence here.'

"Curious." Desmond eyed him again. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen. Why?"

"Ooh, older than I thought. How many people have you killed?"

"I have not been keeping track, honestly. A couple dozen, perhaps?"

"Not bad," said Desmond. "Maybe you haven't realized yet, but your power grows as you consume souls."

"Oh! That would explain why I feel stronger lately."

"Yeah, aberrations are great that way. But you should be careful not to kill too many people too quickly, or you'll end up drawing the attention of the Vanguard."

"What is that?"

"Our enemies. They know about aberrations. They fear you guys, and rightly so. If they realize you're here, they won't hesitate to send one of their strongest people to kill you."

"Sounds like fun."

"Oh, it can be, but only when the time is right. Aberrations are all about momentum. You can grow in power much more quickly than we can, but you have to kill a lot of people while still staying hidden. Otherwise, you'll be stomped into oblivion before you ever get a chance to become a genuine threat to the enemy."

"Hmm, I see. I suppose killing the Queen of Atreya would be doing exactly that, then."

Desmond laughed. "You're here to kill the Queen?"

"Yes."

"No kidding! We came to kill the Queen, too!"

"Really? Oh! Are you the ones responsible for all that destruction over there?!"

"Yep! Sadly, though, she managed to escape. Some other servants got in our way."

"Servants?"

"People with reapers. We're a bit outnumbered, actually. Why don't you join us in hunting her down? If you stick with us, we'll keep you hidden from the Vanguard. Or protected, at least."

"That sounds wonderful!"

"Excellent! I really like your snake by the way."

"Thank you! They were upset when I took him, but the hat was simply not enough of a prize for me."

"Entirely understandable."

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"I wanted to thank you for saving Her Highness's life," said Lynnette. "As well as mine."

The young man had been given short-sleeved coveralls to wear, which were at least a size too big for him. He'd rolled the legs up around his ankles and tightened the denim around his torso with a strip of metal.

Lynnette had caught him in the midst of restoring the metal of his helm. Just one more thing on her list of questions to ask.

When he looked at her, though, his brown eyes widened, and he averted his gaze.

"I'm Lynn. I didn't catch your name."

"I, uh... it's... I'm... H-Hec..."

Her brow tilted as she waited.

"H-Hector."

"Nice to meet you."

"Y-yeah, I-I... I'm, ah... I..." He just gave up this time.

She scratched her cheek. "Um. How are you not dead, anyway? And how are you molding metal with your bare hands?"

"Ah--that... ah... I'm not... uh... agh..."

"Are you alright?"

He turned away and donned his helm before looking back at her. "Yeah, I'm--I mean... I... fagh... I still... can't..."

Lynnette just frowned.

The ensuing silence soon grew uncomfortable, and Lynnette decided that Hector probably wanted her to leave him alone, so she went to check on the others.

"--you should give Vincent and the others a call, just in case," Roman was saying to Gerald. "If we find somewhere to hole up while they come to Sescoria, then we'll be able to minimize our risks and overwhelm the enemy easily."

As Gerald looked over their group another time, his expression hardened. After a moment, he went into the garage, with everyone following uncertainly. "Hey!" he shouted at his mechanics. "You're all fired!"

They clearly didn't understand.

"I said you're fired! Get the fuck out of here right now! I'm not joking, assholes! Get out!"

"What're you doing?" said Roman. "There's no need to fire anyone. Just send them home while we take care of things."

"Don't be stupid," said Gerald. "The others won't come to your aid. And neither will I."

Roman's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"The opponent is Abolish. You think killing two of their members will make them give up?"

"It will," said Roman. "Think about it, Gerald. They only sent two servants. Atreya obviously isn't a priority for them. They're busy waging, what, three different wars? More? We don't have to win. We just have to make conquering us more trouble than it's worth."

Gerald shook his head. "Foolishness. We don't know how valuable they deem this country. If they believe it could be of real strategic value in winning one of those wars you mentioned, then killing the ones already here will just make them send stronger people to deal with us. Imagine if they send Ivan or Dunhouser or Jercash or any of a dozen others. Forget about causing trouble. We wouldn't even be able to run away."

Roman furrowed his brow. "If we do nothing, they'll destroy Atreya."

"All the more reason to leave the country."

The Queen had been watching quietly. "Please," she said. "I assure you that your assistance would not go unrewarded."

Gerald smirked. "You don't even know who we are, do you, Your Majesty?"

She merely eyed him stolidly.

"I'm a smuggler. The best one you'll ever meet." He pointed to Roman. "This idiot is a thief. Probably the best, also."

Helen folded her arms. "I believe such transgressions are inconsequential at this point."

"Indeed," said Gerald. "But I want you to understand that he and I are greedy bastards and that your offer does not fall on deaf ears. And that I am still not going to help you. If you're as intelligent as I think you are, Your Majesty, then you'll take this chance to flee the country, as well."

"You must not think me very intelligent at all, then."

Gerald frowned. "Still too young for the crown, I see."

"A thousand years would not be enough to make me agree with you," Helen said. "You are mistaken if you think Atreya is meant to protect me. I am meant to protect it."

The old man just snorted.

There was a pause, and Lynnette noticed Hector had joined them. Everyone seemed to be looking at him--or just above his head, perhaps. She couldn't tell what was happening, but after a moment, Gerald broke the silence.

"There are plenty of places for us to go," he said. "Any neutral territory will suffice. If necessary, we'll throw our support behind Sai-hee. At least she has enough sense to stay out of the others' messes."

Roman scowled. "You fucking coward."

"Don't let sentiment cloud your judgment, Roman. Atreya is already dead."

"So much the better, then," said Roman. "Dead things suit us just fine."

Gerald rolled his eyes. A few of his mechanics lingered behind him, no doubt waiting for a chance to speak to him, but when he saw them there, he flew into a spitting tirade until they fled. He moved to the rear wall and hit a row of buttons. The garage doors all began to close.

The old man took a deep breath. The shelf next to him reached all the way to ceiling, bearing boxes and tires and all manner of tools. He clutched its central pillar with both hands and pulled the whole thing a few paces to the right. A door in the floor was revealed.

Gerald lifted it open. "I'll offer you one small aid only. I suggest you take it." He descended out of view.

Roman and the Queen followed immediately. Lynnette and Hector exchanged glances before pursuing.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

It was an underground garage. Bright white lights filled the chamber, and Hector could see grooves in the ceiling where mechanics topside could work beneath cars.

Gerald was already pulling tarps off of the various vehicles parked here.

"The green Porsche is mine," said Gerald, "but you can take any of the others. The keys are all by the stairs."

Roman approached a black pickup truck, eyeing the driver's side door before looking back at Gerald. "We're not going to flee with you."

"I didn't think you would. But you shouldn't stay here. They'll find you before long."

Helen stood by a blue convertible. "Will they? Did we not escape them well enough?"

"Probably not," said Roman. "Reapers are annoyingly good scouts. They probably still have a vague idea where we went, at least. And they can search areas very quickly."

In the driver's seat, Gerald started his Porsche. The far corner of the ceiling began opening, and it became abruptly apparent that the long ramp there led outside.

Gerald stuck his head out. "Roman. Everyone. Good luck to you."

Roman gave him the finger.

The old man drove away, his unintroduced reaper following.

'What now?' said Voreese. 'Our plan's been shot to hell.'

Roman took a heavy breath. "I hate to say it, but I think the old bastard was right. We shouldn't stay here."

Helen's brow lowered. "You would have me flee, as well?"

"Look, it's a bit pathetic, but without my glasses, I'm fighting with a disadvantage. You don't have any combat experience or training yet, and while I'm impressed with the sword girl's abilities, she's still just a normal person." Roman looked at Hector and Garovel. "What do you two think? The bulk of the fight would be in your hands."

With everyone looking at him again, Hector took a step back.

'It's too risky,' said Garovel. 'We should leave Sescoria and come up with a new plan.'

The Queen frowned. "If we concede the capital now, we may never be able to retake it. We do outnumber the enemy, and Hector seems capable of--"

Garovel cut her off. 'With respect, Your Majesty, this is not your decision. It's mine. Hector has helped you more than enough already.'

Hector looked at his friend. 'Garovel...'

'We won't abandon you, Your Majesty,' the reaper added. 'But we're not prepared to die for you, either.'

"I was not asking you to die for me," she said.

'Yes, you were,' said Garovel. 'Perhaps you didn't realize it, but you were.'

Annoyance flashed across the Queen's face, but then she closed her eyes a moment and nodded. "Very well." Her gaze passed over Hector. "You know your limits better than I do. I thank you, Hector, for protecting us, and I will ask no more of you. Except, perhaps, might you tell me your full name?"

Hector was a statue. His mouth wouldn't move, and neither would his hands or his feet. 'G-Garovel! I--this is--! Help!'

Garovel broke for a small laugh. 'His name is Hector Goffe.'

"Goffe. I shall remember. But can he not speak for himself?"

'He wants to talk to you, but he's extremely shy.'

Her expression flattened, and she exchanged glances with the others. "You are joking."

'I'm not, no. He's a great kid. He just has trouble talking to people. And seeing as you're the Queen, I imagine that only makes it about a dozen times more difficult for him. Through no fault of your own, of course.'

Hector could feel his face burning so much that he was worried it would show through his helm.

Helen just blinked, unable to come up with words of her own.

Voreese busted out laughing. 'That's great! Roman, why can't you be like him? You'd be way cuter.'

"Great idea. Hey, Garovel, is there any way I can swap with Hector? I'd rather be your servant."

'No, you stupid dick! You're stuck with me!'

'She's right. And besides, I'm quite content with Hector.'

Roman looked at Mehlsanz. "How about you? I don't even know your name, but please save me from this living nightmare."

Helen and Lynnette were busy observing the keys together.

"I have not driven a car in eighteen years."

"Then perhaps I should drive, Your Highness."

Hector waited for them to choose before looking at the board himself. There were two rows, each key hanging below the logo of the accompanying vehicle's manufacturer.

Garovel pointed at the logo of a smoking, ghostly wheel. 'Get that one. It's Revenant.'

'Revenant?' said Hector, grabbing the key nonetheless.

'Have you forgotten? Revenant makes motorcycles.'

'Oh!' He bit his lip. 'And... oh. I just realized... we left that bike behind, didn't we...?'

'We sure did. Whoops.'

The key belonged to a motorcycle tucked away at the back of the garage. It was a cruiser, just like the previous bike, though a bit smaller and bearing a steely blue gas tank. It seemed sleeker to Hector's eyes, perhaps even custom-built, and he noticed that the speedometer went higher than the other one.

Abruptly, the lights flickered, and everyone looked up. The center of the ceiling went black, and a hissing sound filled the silence. Stone and plaster melted away, dripping acid onto the Corvette below.

A darkened arm fell through the hole in the ceiling.

Hector immediately slammed his fists together, trying to coat the severed limb in iron. It exploded halfway through.

The fire lit up the chamber. But it did not spread. Hector squinted through the opening in his helm and saw the explosion being held at bay by apparently nothing. It just floated there in the middle of the room, a boiling bubble of flames and smoke.

Roman's arms gripped the space in front of him, trembling. The strain of it ate away at his flesh, bloodying his arms and face. "Need some help here, Hector!"

Hector breathed deep and refocused. He spread his arms out wide and brought them together again. Iron spots gathered around the bubble, expanding, clustering, and soon became a completely metal orb, as big as any car in the room. It dropped on the Corvette like a wrecking ball.

Roman let go, and the sphere jumped in place. Huge dents distorted its shape, and Hector and Roman both scrambled to keep it suppressed.

'You can't smother an explosion like that,' said Garovel. 'You'll have to try and redirect it.'

'How?!' asked Hector.

'A funnel. Broadside up. Do it now.'

He wasn't sure he could actually pull such a thing off, but there was no time to second guess himself. He did the best he could, twisting his hands between one another as his mind warped the metal sphere, adding crude walls around the top like a misshapen crown. It grew clumsily toward the ceiling, worrying him with its awkward form. But it reached. And that was all that mattered.

Hector annihilated the top of the sphere within the walls and nodded to Roman, who already seemed to understand the goal here.

The explosion was free to rip upward, back the through the hole Desmond had dropped it from.

Hector annihilated the rest of the makeshift funnel, releasing a cloud of smoke and dust.

'Wow, Roman,' said Garovel. 'I didn't realize you could suppress explosions like that.'

Roman rolled his shoulders. "Honestly, I wasn't too certain, either. Nice work with the--"

A second arm dropped through the hole, but Roman was ready this time. He stamped the floor, and the Corvette flew straight up through the ceiling, taking the arm with it. The explosion shook the building, making the walls crack and shift.

Roman grinned like a maniac. "Time to go, everyone."

Hector mounted the bike, and everyone else gathered in the black truck with Lynnette at the wheel. She went first up the ramp and disappeared outside, and when Hector rode up the ramp himself and saw the truck again, it was flipped and skidding across the road.

The big man was there. As was Geoffrey.