Chapter 361: The Mad Habberdasher |
Voices began to echo through the tunnel, coming from behind the mustachioed man. Much of it was gibberish mixed with whoops and rapid laughter bordering on giggles. It was accompanied by the noisy footsteps of at least a hundred people, who began to appear from around the corner.
Most of them walked across the ground, like reasonable folk, although some crawled and all of them struggled over the messy terrain. One man fell, bumping into two others on his way down. Both lost balance from the hit. The first nose dived and his entire upper body sank into the cables, leaving his legs sticking out and kicking at the air. The other did more of a face-forward flop, then started rolling around gripping his bloody nose. The others stepped over them as best they could, but the man’s flailing took a few more out. It was a small fraction of the group, which just kept coming from around the corner.
Then, a few showed up hanging from the ceiling, using the cables like vines as they swung forward arm over arm. Several were clearly talented with that choice in locomotion, although one straggled behind, appearing like it was his first day role playing a monkey. He fell shortly after with a squeal, taking out another pair on the ground. A few more came crawling around along the wall with similar diversity of skill.
The whole thing was absurd, and while the people were constantly tumbling over one another they smiled and laughed like they were flopping around in a bouncy castle, rather than breaking bones and disappearing beneath pulsating cable masses. One noticed us and pointed, then leaned over to whisper into the ear of the man next to him. That one began cackling like a maniac until his distraction led him to slip and eat shit. As he went down he shouted “WHOOPS!”. When he landed he made an exaggerated “OOF!”
These were all different people of various Arzian races. A variety of humans made up the bulk of the mix, but there were also Geulons, Hyrachons, and Deijinon from Eschendur, along with some Timans, Iskarim, and Grimvaldrim. Littans were notably absent, and I didn’t spot any Davahns either. Regardless, it was a pretty mixed group with a couple of exceptions.
First, they were all men, and second, they were all dressed in the same outfit.
Really, saying it was the same outfit was somewhat generous, but there wasn’t a better shorthand description. Each of them had the same style of jacket with sharp angles, frilly button-down underneath, pressed slacks, and shiny black shoes. Each also had a wide-brimmed hat with some type of orange flair serving as the band. The difference was that they were each patched together from different materials. Some looked expensively tailored, others looked cobbled together from old blankets and quilts, and one Geulon’s outfit was made entirely of different types of skins, from traditional leather to scaly snake. That man’s shoes looked like they were made from something close to alligator.
However, despite the variety on display, every outfit had the same coloring and cut, with every piece accounted for down to the orange pocket squares and colorful stockings flashing beneath the hem of their pants as they walked.
“Are you both seeing this?” I asked, looking at my c’thonic allies.
“I am also bearing witness to such.”
“I feel like I’m looking at some kind of carnival barker gentleman’s club. Also, Shog, didn’t you say there was only one of these guys?”
“I only saw their brood leader.”He grumbled thoughtfully. “Now that I think back, these others were all there. I did not notice them.”
I recalled Shog’s various specialized sensory tentacles and the chances of the c’thon missing an entire horde of people. “So it’s mind fuckery,” I said. “Also, is it just me or do all the rest of these guys look like ordinary people?”
[One along the wall is a Delver,] Grotto replied. [Otherwise they display the frailty of mundane humanoids.]
I watched the man who’d broken his nose stand and stumble to a wall. He leaned against it and started groaning.
“Yeah. The guy in the front clearly has something going on, though.” I took a closer look with Soul-Sight, catching the weird soul-blender effect I was beginning to associate with the United. While the Davahns looked to be made up of the souls of many different people and creatures, this guy’s soul looked like it had been threaded with something dead. Either that, or something that had always been inanimate. It was the kind of thing that really didn’t belong inside of somebody’s soul.
With that in mind I took another look at all the rest. Like their outfits, each of them had a soul with a different make and texture, but they were all dancing to the same tune. I considered whether they were under the effects of mind control, but this went much deeper than something like Dominate. It was as though these were all the first guy’s identical twins, the kind who end up doing everything together and having most of the same interests with cute matching names like Dan and Don. That was obviously impossible given the disparate races and ages of the people assembled before us, but it didn’t change what I was looking at.
The crowd grew until there were well over a hundred bonus weirdos. They all stopped and went mostly still, although the occasional giggle still chirped from somewhere in the crowd.
“Is he going to use them as human shields?” I wondered aloud. “It’s not like regular people can hurt us.”
“That would be foolish of him. These are all the same person, despite looking so different.”
“What?”
“Their minds all taste the same.”
“You’re sure they aren’t just other people being mind controlled?”
Shog did the c’thonic equivalent of a shrug. “I once knew a c’thon who could implant a person’s brain with an embryo of herself. She would slowly eat the tissue and replace its function with a parasitic clone. Eventually the brain was devoured and she would pilot the body, wearing their meat sack to sow havoc in the world.” He turned to look at me. “Would you consider that mind control, or something else?”
I digested Shog’s gruesome anecdote. Meanwhile, all but one of the assembled gentlemen reached into a pocket on their person–coat, pants, shirt, or some other secret place–to retrieve an identical, round object. The odd man out looked around and, with a start, reached under his hat to pull out his own orb.
I’d encountered a similar item to what they now held way back when I was crashing through the Littan blockade off the coast of Eschendur. Those had been a type of planar grenade that blipped away a sphere of material, similar to how my Oblivion Orb worked. It wasn’t anything special as far as Delver equipment went, but there was one key factor that had differentiated it from a basic piece of magic gear.
The Littan soldier who’d thrown it at me hadn’t been a Delver. He was just some ordinary asshole.
The sound of a hundred clicks bounced off the tunnel’s walls as everyone in the crowd armed their device. Whatever barrier keeping the item’s mana in check dissolved, and I realized that these were much worse than the Littan weapon I’d seen. In fact, if those grenades all went off in here, everyone with a mundane constitution would die of mana toxicity if not whatever effect they were equipped with. Several of the fellows were already sweating from the little bit leaking out. When multiplied a hundred fold it was quickly getting dangerous.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
[Shog is correct,] Grotto thought to us a few moments after the c’thon had voiced his hypothesis.[I am experiencing something similar when trying to establish a psychic link. They are not a hive mind, yet they are all so similar I cannot differentiate between them.]
“Are you sure?”
[As sure as I can be, given my talents, and you likely have more experience dealing with soul-based mind manipulation than any other Delver on the planet. Are you seeing any evidence to the contrary?]
“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath, then spoke up to address the group down the hall. “If any of you throws one of those orbs, I will view it as an attack and respond with lethal force. I am giving you one opportunity to stand down and surrender.” I first said this is Hiwardian, then repeated my words in Losonbinora. I wasn’t given the chance to add in any further languages.
“If anyone throws an orb, I’ll attack!” shouted one of the men in a mocking tone.
“If you attack, I’ll throw my orb!” shouted another.
“If you– hehehehe!” another fought to say through manic chuckles. “If you ORB, then— Ha! Then I’ll–hehe–I’ll throw my ATTACK!”
“I dare you to throw your orb, you little bitch!” another shouted, pointing at me.
“To be clear, I don’t have an orb,” I replied.
“You just said you were going to kill us with an orb!” another said as several people near him nodded along.
“He did! I heard it! He’s here to kill us!”
“Lethal force! Lethal force!”
“No,” I said, raising my empty hands in a calming gesture. “See? Nothing–”
“Look out!” one of them shrieked. “He’s got an orb!”
As though that were the code phrase, everyone in the crowd drew their arms back, ready to toss.
While I couldn’t be certain what was going on with these guys, I wasn’t about to eat a hundred mystery grenades to the face. I also didn’t want to massacre more than a hundred ordinary people, but if Shog and Grotto were right then they were as much a member of the United as the first dude.
Maybe I could alter the trajectory of those orbs with Gravity Anchor and suck them all into a shaped Oblivion Orb to banish them to the void, but that seemed pretty unreliable. With an unconscious Etja on my shoulder, I didn’t want to take any risks. I could possibly Shortcut all of us away, but these mundane people would still be dead from mana exposure if I did that, so we weren’t exactly saving lives there. We also needed to get into the control center and I didn’t want to take the fight in there.
Really, we needed them out of our way, and we didn’t have time to mess around with whatever the hells was going on here.
“Fuck it,” I said. The first few whipped their arms forward, and I snapped my fingers.
The tunnel we occupied would have been fairly large by Earth standards, about half again larger than a subway tunnel. Explosion! rocked the entire thing. Its unmodified area of effect was capable of filling a space four times that width, and it was more than enough for the spell to encompass the entire group of suicidal lunatics.
It hit with such force that the crowd of more than 100 people became a hot paste on the tunnel walls. They were so thoroughly atomized that I could smell their bones, which had become little more than vapor. That realization had me making plans to scour my sinuses as soon as I had the chance, since the scent of bone was accompanied by a whole lot of other biological products that had no business trespassing on my olfactories.
The shockwave sent debris bouncing off my armor and vigorously ruffled all of our feathers. The tunnel itself had been wrecked, with thousands of cable-root-artery things severed and scattered, hanging from the walls and ceiling. A significant amount of material had been blasted from all the surfaces as well, and chunks continued to rain down for several seconds. There was a loud series of cracking noises that made me worried for the tunnel’s stability.
[Perhaps Elemental Barrier would have been a better choice. You could have frozen them in place before shattering them.]
“Maybe,” I thought back, “but at least some of that was those grenade things.”
[Those ‘grenade things’ were turned to ash via sheer friction before they ever had a chance to activate whatever spell or payload they’d been filled with.]
I grunted. “I hear your feedback and will consider taking it under advisement for later reflection.”
[I see your political office has begun invading your thought patterns.]
“If you’re looking for a firmer commitment, I’ll agree,” I said, “to help you workshop the structure for a meeting that can plan an approach to assigning a task force for delegating the logistics of analyzing your opinion. Circle back in ninety days?”
“He lives,”Shog said, interrupting our mental spar.
I followed his gaze down the tunnel to see the mustachioed man stand up from the rubble, gravel and chunks of cable pouring off his back. One other member of the group had also survived, although he looked worse for wear. It was the sole Delver that Grotto had spotted, and his flawless attire had been completely ruined by the blast. The fact that any of it remained intact meant it had to include some hidden durability weaves.
Mustachio dusted off his hat and put it back on his head, the rest of his outfit still impeccable. The Delver stumbled past him, made a few dramatic wizardly gestures, then pointed a finger at us.
“Fireball!” he shouted. Then he went up in a burst of flames.
You have observed the Immolate spell!
Immolate
Physical
Cost: 5 mana
Requirements: Physical Magic
Ignite everything within 5 feet of you.
EVERYTHING.
The man screamed and started running around. While he miraculously avoided bouncing off walls and managed to stay on his feet, that may have made things even worse for him since dropping and rolling were two of the three steps to preventing forest fires.
Or something like that.
I checked the spell’s description. The way this guy had tried to use the ability was absolutely incorrect, and setting himself on fire was the only expected outcome for what he’d done.
[I believe this is further evidence that this man’s mind has been replaced, as the first gentleman is not a Delver and thus would have no idea how to use their skills properly.]
“Gust!” the burning man shouted, kicking up a storm of wind that made the flames clinging to his body burn even hotter.
You have observed the Fan the Flames spell!
“Your point is well taken,” I replied as the man’s screams rose another octave. Mustachio ignored his roasting ally and started walking towards us. His gait picked up in the first few steps, his legs elongating and arms swinging like pendulums.
Taking Grotto’s advice, I opted to use Elemental Barrier, although I chose Fire rather than Cold to avoid giving Burning Man a free icy extinguisher. A blast of flame erupted in front of me, mana-shaped to engulf the entire tunnel for over eighty feet. The man already on fire ragdolled back from the force of the blast, barely visible as a dark shape through the flames. Mustachio fell onto his back and started doing the rolling that the first man should have done.
It wasn’t helpful, since I could keep Elemental Barrier running for as long as I focused on it, but the way the man was tossing about looked performative. Finally, he stopped. Despite there being no air for him to breathe amidst the inferno, his voice came to our ears easily enough.
“Oh noooooooo,” he said. “Fire? How horrible! What if I melt?!”
And then the man did that very thing. His entire body turned to liquid, dribbling down through the floor of burning cables.
A second later, a wave of molten silver attacked us from below.