FSch31: Rescue Arc Begins

The only way peace existed was under the protection of the strong. Before Siege Warner’s mother died, she made him promise to use his power to protect the weak like his deceased sister. The memory of the hospice pod, his mother’s half-rotten body, and doctors rushing to try and save her. Dying nanites in his mother’s mind transmitted her last wish to him, and he tried. By the Borgs, he became a Magna Meister and piloted the strongest unit, Black Joker.

He floated in his pod surrounded by nanites and a concussion and explosion dampening miracle chemical called Magna, fully connecting Sieg’s body to his machine. Nanite chains in his brain gave him a wireless connection, allowing him some unmanned control. Still, there was nothing like a direct connection. Even if his duties were lackluster, Siege was Black Joker in the pod.

Siege watched the caravan as camera drones and the vilest humans imaginable made sport of a grand inquisitory and his family. The girls had already been raped. Siege remembered the names of the men for their court martialing later. Even for the capital's entertainment, some lines shouldn’t be crossed. They were Jackson Megacity elite and should have some self-respect.

He had only stayed his hand when the men refrained from knocking the girl’s teeth in. A rape was nothing compared to being disfigured. People who lost their looks and didn’t have the money for expensive cosmetic repairs often took their own lives.

“Joker, get ready; we have some interlopers.” Courtney Abbot said.

They always moved in groups of two; those were the rules. A part of Siege would have preferred if a rescue could have occurred under his nose. While he might get chewed out by the corporate scum overseeing World Gov, he could live with it.

Courtney’s Killer Queen flew next to him and deployed her interceptor drones in case of any ground-to-air missiles. They doubled as scanning equipment for dirty bombs and nuclear devices. Cameras zoomed in, revealing his targets. Mage killer drones intercepted before he could enter the fray, erasing barriers with mana absorption and bisecting the mages with their onboard dense particle lasers. Siege could feel his Black Joker’s hunger for the particles in the drones.

One of the drones stopped cold before he felt a spike of chi. “Cultivator, on your three,” Siege said.

He armed his beam sword and drew it with a rush of supercharged particles. Black Joker’s engine revved into high gear as he dive-bombed the cultivator. Superheated particles met a sudden barrier as one of the beads from the necklace around the cultivator’s neck shattered. He aimed his blaster and fired point blank.

The cultivator wore a hood and mask hiding their face, only exposing long blonde hair and pointed ears. He exploded into action but was too late.

An aura of golden energy appeared around the cultivator before turning black with deadly miasma. The same source of energy that killed his mother. He was dealing with a member of the Xia clan. Worse, the entire area would soon be covered in deadly miasma. Anyone caught in it without some protection would die an agonizingly slow death. Not even a hospice pod could get rid of all the pain nanites would degrade in the cells of their hosts.

Monstrous ram horns and raven black wings alerted him to a bigger problem. Black scales covered a pink-haired woman’s body, adding seemingly little protection and highlighting the bright colors of her privates. It reminded him of the poison dart frogs in the Amazon. Those bright colors said danger in nature. Golden chains wrapped around the demon that must have been a rank 5, at least by its appearance.

For a moment, his vision flashed back to his mother’s death, slowly eaten away by miasma. When death didn’t come, reality bled through.

The Mythril coating of his Magna protected him from any miasma. After three reconstructions, Mississippi was 200 years behind the rest of the country, and it showed with its mobile suit technology. Their Borg in charge of the state put an embargo on out-of-state technology to teach them a lesson. It's why his mother died.

A second demon appeared when Courtney’s Killer Queen opened fire, spilling crimson particles amidst the black miasma. Green fur, massive antlers, and rotting skin showed it as a 5th or higher rank hunger demon. It charged into Killer Queen only to receive a blaster round in the back of the head from Siege. It stumbled as Killer Queen drove a red spear through its chest. Flies of miasma burst forward as the demon-binding cultivator watched with dispassionate eyes.

These creatures killed his mother; this was his chance to get justice. He prepared his beam saber.

While the demon blocked his blaster with her arm and remained undamaged, it appeared to be an impressive feat. Sige stuck with his weapon on its low setting to give the demon the false impression that it was immune to his attacks. Demons above the 4th rank were all powerhouses; more importantly, they knew it. Siege wanted this one to show him its belly with confidence.

Siege thought it was a shame. The world would be better if the cultivator used the demon’s power to defend instead of destroy. They wouldn’t need to capture mages who abused their power.

Concentrated miasma formed a ball between the demon’s hands before turning pink and fiery. In its misconception of invulnerability, it charged an attack right before him.

“Give in to ultimate pleasure.” The demon spoke in its guttural language translated by Siege’s machine.

Propulsion engaged, and he struck, sending the ball of passion’s flame off target. A camera showed him trees burning and miasma filling the air. In the distance, one of the prisoners, a blond with eyes so close to his sister’s it hurt, was in danger.

He slashed, and the demon let him hit it as Siege led it into a trap. The demon bumped into one of Courtney’s drones, and it flinched. It chose to disregard him as a threat for a moment. Siege’s blade sliced through a miasma barrier, black scales, and sensual flesh. When the demon was down, he moved between the encroaching miasma cloud and the convoy. His Magna’s MN particles fought against the encroaching miasma, buying the prisoners and guards time in exchange for revving up his MN engine, draining his stored particle supply and engine life. The cultivator edged away, and he couldn’t go after him without endangering the lives of the prisoners and guards.

Siege made a call then, even if it would cut the lives of the prisoners short. At the first opportunity, they would load them in a transport craft and send them directly to the city. No more walking in shame or rape because they were heretics.

…

Emily had been put in her place, and while she would never tell Jason, she felt happier for it. Her virginity had been taken by a strong man with the will to take control. Their first time hadn’t been sweet or gentle; he ravished her as a man should. He was wild, strong, and so powerful. Money and status were important, but they followed power, not vice versa. Jason broke the control of runes stitched into his aura and pulled them out.

After witnessing his determination, she had to open herself to him when he demanded it. Jason took her virginity; he didn’t buy or ask for it, making Emily his more for it. She was willing to walk over literal shit for him, so she left the house in her dress to bring them bad news.

Emily heard the flies feasting on animal shit flying around with their disgusting black bodies. She sensed something was different about them, a mutation caused by an influx of energy.

Jason would have to spray for them; mutant flies were far worse than their mundane counterparts. Their mutations included metal flies, gigantification, putrification, and duplication in the south. To the east and west, other varieties of mutation were dependent on their natural predators and the mutations those frogs, spiders, and bugs took.

She found Jason and Atom standing over a pit filled with a seemingly endless swarm of black flies. The pests kept their distance from the brothers, who watched them with interest Atom more than Jason. Even this was a plot of some kind to snatch a tiny advantage in the raid moved ahead of schedule.

A thought occurred to her: what if they chose not to pursue the raid. Jason took one of the last tools she had left to bargain with. Only her womb remained, and Jason could take that too.

“They’re dangerous; how much control do you have over them?” Jason asked.

“Enough; I accelerated their lifespan and restricted their mutation to the 3rd stage. Most of them inherit the mutations I want without going through a fourth one.” Atom said.

“You learned how to control them from the Trans AM,” Jason said.

Atom smirked. “If we had more of them, I would risk bonding them with mages to see how their runes interact with the body. It's an artificial lifeform with a culture designed to benefit mages. There is no telling what it can do once unleashed.”

“I know you’ve praised and cursed the thing with equal measure since you stole it,” Jason said.

“That’s right, it deserves all my praise and curses. The mages are getting stronger while we are stuck without a name for ourselves.” He snapped his attention to her. “Emily, you’re too pretty to be out here covered in cow shit and flies like us menfolk. Get back to the house so my brother, the young Master of the Stark clan, can breed more Starks from you.” She missed the blow from Jason, but Atom flew a dozen feet but never touched the shit beneath his feet. He hovered over a cushion of aura without ever touching the ground. “But seriously, are the flies bothering you? If they are too much, I’ll have the flies go to the Emu fields.” Atom said.

“Ignore my brother; he’s becoming ever more obsessed with his new hobby and enjoys pretending we are young masters of the Xia clan because of our perceived affiliation with them,” Jason said.

While his tone was always stoic, some warmth peeked through when he spoke to her. For a moment, she thought about pretending not to have watched the latest episode of the disgusting web series New Trail of Tears. Her family was being transported to Jackson Megacity as she stood in indecision.

“We’re out of time.” Atom said.

Atom’s eyes had changed from their former soft, joking blue to a stoic grey. Jason only nodded his head in acceptance.

“It’s the 19th of October; we were ready to leave any day now. How far along are you in manifestation?” Jason asked.

Red aura flashed around Atom, taking no a horrifying form, and the flies seemed to duplicate themselves before her eyes, turning the waste around them into dried scat. The buzz of millions of wings filled her ears before the form vanished, like taking off a coat that didn’t quite fit.

“It’s still a work in progress. My mind keeps falling back on utility for my black rings despite the power-up; there isn’t much battle ready about the skill. Is your own manifestation close to being mastered?” Atom asked.

“I already had a form in mind before concealment was mastered,” Jason said.

Emily was reminded of the shape his aura took with the wings and star-like glowing runes.

…

A giddy feeling swept through me as I dressed in the latest body armor money couldn’t buy. I wore a vest of a Mythril plate protecting my vitals, a few plates protecting my femoral arteries, and a scarf made of Mythril rings sewn by Ember. Seals made the Mythril a little lighter, harder, and heat resistant. While the plates were normally immune to magic, they also made excellent conduits when runes or seals were carved through them.

A helmet with Mythril plates would hopefully keep me from getting sniped by a stray Mythril round. My T99 rifle with a new Mythril enamel barrel was armed with a few clips of full Mythril jacket rounds. If possible, I planned to loot the chassis of every mage killer drone I found. Mythril was great for stopping magic cold; it was harder than glass, lighter, and more flexible than titanium. Only extreme temperatures or lots of brute force fazed the material.

Fortunately, heat and force were something I had in spades.

“You look like a penal soldier that spent everything on mage killer gear about to go on a cultivator raid. What will you do when a sniper hits you in the armpits?” Ember asked.

“I will catch the bullet or hope my barrier can handle it. Though I don’t plan for much visibility if you know what I’m saying.” I said.

“Flies or bats are a known trick to discourage visibility. Snipers have equipment to read radiation unique to mages or have AI that can pick up the lack of readings in the case of my kind. The technology to view black holes by the light absorbed or lack of material is centuries old. In your case, they will shoot you with MN rounds before moving on to higher ordinance.” Ember shook her head. She wanted to go, but I asked her to stay and look out for the farm. We needed a safe place to return. “What will you do if they still have vampire kill teams? They will be hard to deal with in tandem with mage killer drones and Magna Meisters?” Ember said.

Fool your friends to fool your enemies. The flies were carriers.

“When Jason and I leave the property, we agreed we would drop the human façade completely,” I said.

Ember bore her fangs at me and dashed forward before vanishing into mist. I blocked her incoming strike at my groin and battled her, upping my speed until we were a blur. Her diet had increased her speed, strength, regeneration, and capabilities by leaps and bounds. She matched me until she couldn’t any longer.

30,000 was a big number. It was a struggle to reach, but my manifestation training and black halo helped push me further than I thought possible. I swept Ember’s legs from under her and pinned her on the floor.

My body pressed against hers, and she felt softer than I had ever experienced. Her crystal-like skin moved under my touch like normal skin as my strength rose. I let go of her slowly as she stepped out of her shoes and pulled my belt off with her feet. My pants were down in an instant, and I was already hard.

Ember’s skin no longer felt cold to the touch. It was as warm as I had ever felt, but I had changed. Power was the great equalizer; nothing quite brought someone to a higher level than power.

I gripped her hips and picked her up off the ground before stripping her out of her skirt. A pair of silk red panties covered her bottom over the whitest skin I had ever seen. My eyes could perceive the tiny reflective crystals that made up her body, each unbelievably hard and thirsty for blood. Feelings of wrongness, otherness, or the fear of a predator were distant.

At that moment, more than anything, I accepted that I wasn’t truly human any longer. Not in the sense that I was more but in that I was a more finalized result of my culture. The long path from pants-shitting infant to what I had become had been traveled, and what I became was the obvious result. Unlike the infant, I had knowledge, power, and relationships that made me into who I am.

The knowledge gave me the confidence to pull her panties down, revealing her dripping grey snatch and a tiny pinprick of a butthole. Her bottom was firm with fat in the right places to attract a man’s eye. Her body was sculpted to make victims out of humans; even her scent was alluring, like something sweet that made the mind go fuzzy. Her pussy was even better than the full force of her attracting pheromones designed to turn humans into corpses, blasted me with no reserve. Ember didn’t hesitate to express the true nature of her body.

She smiled, putting her fangs on full display, and I could feel the pull of her mind. The glamour powers that she held in check always were let loose. Ember let her hair down and stared at me with her hungry, predatory gaze. The longer she gazed at me, the less human but more beautiful she appeared. Any man without the control I had gained would have become putty in moments. Her power would have ruined them, turning their mind to mush, more malleable than clay.

I held her hand, and she unleashed the full force of her grip, no longer worrying about what it could do to a human. To me, it felt comfortable, like my lover’s hand. Her strength felt like the most natural thing in the world.

She tossed off my helmet, lodging it in the ceiling with a flick. The strap snapped with barely any effort, revealing a critical design flaw.

Ember dove in at incredible speeds kissed me, and darted away faster than the eye could track. I moved in and kissed her, then shaking the house and ripping through the floor with my feet. She tossed the rest of my armor aside while I ripped her blouse off. It fell into bloody silk, revealing she had been wearing blood clothes all along. We kissed hard enough to rip through boulders, and I smacked her ass loud enough to shake the doors in the house.

She grabbed my dick and pressed it against her dark grey lips before spreading her legs and lifting them in one motion. Gravity hadn’t realized nothing was supporting her before her legs wrapped around me. She pressed down, driving me into her crushing depths as she moaned, flashing her fangs and sticking out her long, sexy tongue. I kissed her as she crushed more of my cock into her waiting walls, practically vibrating from the speeds they clenched and unclenched. I grabbed her ass with enough strength to throw a grain silo and pounded into her.

I went slow as she moaned and hissed as I fucked her long and hard. She clawed my back and bit at me as I crushed her against my body.

We didn’t know what would happen after I left; there was a chance I wouldn’t return. So for the first time, we dropped all pretenses of humanity and fucked like it was our last day on earth.