Outcast Chapter 245 (Book 6 Chapter 30) (Patreon)

One Week Later

Lately, Jason had gotten fairly accustomed to having some rough starts to his mornings. Was just a part of juggling multiple duties and being on-call for any nearby monster incursions. With that said....

Goddamn, was the universe really pushing it today.

"Jason Miller – for the last time, the United States government has not been suborned by the Outsiders!"

"Right. Of course." Jason spoke into his phone with a calm tone, as if he was addressing customer service. "So I'm going to ask again, and I'm going to do it nicely. When exactly did the Blight hijack your minds? Didn't know it could do that. I guess it must have been easy, considering you seem incapable of thinking for yourselves. Like hopping into a running car with no one in the driver's seat."

The military commander breathed a loud sigh. "Miller. We were not compromised. I repeat, we were not–"

"But you were," Jason insisted. "Because otherwise, it means that you seriously looked at the magical tower Spire thing and thought: 'Know what we should do? Fucking nuke it'." He shook his head sadly. "Breaks my heart to learn that my taxes are paying for people that goddamn stupid."

"Do you think we want to, Miller?" The commander shouted over the phone. "Do you think we aren't agonizing over the possibility? That we just want to throw nuclear armaments at unknown, magic-based entities and pray for the best?"

Jason tilted his head, contemplating his answer for a few seconds before responding. "Yeah. Would bet money that most of you are hoping that'll solve everything. And at least a couple of you just really, really want to nuke something. Been a while since anyone got to press the big red button. The Spires make for a perfect excuse."

Conventional weaponry had already failed to topple them. The towering black obelisks appeared to possess even stronger resistances than typical Blightspawn, going from being scratched by anti-tank rifles to completely unaffected by targeted missile strikes as more attempts were made. One argument the commander had put forth was that, to exceed those apparent resistances, a weapon of the highest caliber would be necessary.

He'd explicitly refrained from explaining what their backup plan was if the Spires adapted to that as well. Especially since the Blightspawn had not-so-coincidentally gained tougher resistances whenever the military attacked the Spires in the past, with some traits seemingly being passed down from obelisk to monster.

"Miller..." There was a slight pause on the other end. When the commander spoke again, his voice was filled with a quiet intensity. "We've kept this under wraps, but the rate of Toxic Chlorination Psychosis is increasing exponentially. More people are getting sick. Near the Spires, near the monsters – everywhere. And we haven't developed a treatment for it."

Although Jason knew this was an audio-only call, he raised his hand and summoned a bit of Purging energy, the light shimmering around his fingers. "Think you're forgetting about–"

"Your new ability can only tend to several people per day. It isn't enough to prevent TCP from spreading."

That much, Jason couldn't argue with. His Crystal Resonance variation of Purge Corruption was a lot weaker than Rob's Crystal Bearer original. It was growing a bit stronger every day, but he would never be able to travel the nation, healing entire rooms full of sick people.

"Here's the problem." Jason hesitated. "Well, one of the many metric fuckton of problems. If you're worried about Corruption – TCP – spreading, then nuking the Spires will scatter its particles all over the place. Seems counter-intuitive. You'll be scattering radiation all over the place too, but that goes without saying and you don't care anyway."

"Our scientists have determined that the Spire's TCP particles would be incinerated by a nuclear blast."

"Based on what?"

The commander took a second to respond. "Extensive testing. Details are above your pay grade."

Jason nodded. "So prayers and a magic eight-ball, got it."

"That's–"

"Rob literally survived a nuke with one of his Skills."

The commander audibly bit back a groan. "Ah, yes. Your cross-dimensional correspondence with Subject Zero that is impossible for anyone else to verify. Permit us for sounding...skeptical. That excuse could be used to justify practically anything."

Jason, with commendable restraint, didn't argue the point. He'd beaten his head against this brick wall of a debate more than once, and rehashing it wouldn't help him right now. "Fine – what other reasons do you have for escalating? It can't just be TCP."

"As a matter of fact, the unexplained geothermal readings occurring below the Spire have also increased exponentially. They now reach farther down through the Earth's layers than our sensors can detect."

His tone rose with frustration. "Don't you see? The Spires are becoming a problem we can't ignore, and if we wait too long, we'll just have wished we dealt with them earlier. Be reasonable, soldier!"

"I'm not a soldier."

"But you are reasonable."

At that, Jason just laughed.

"Christ, Miller." The commander sighed again. "Unless you have a miracle solution, we're committed to this. The Spires have shrugged off everything else we've thrown at them. There's no choice but to send our strongest weapon."

"On that, we agree," Jason said, with a sort of verbal strut. "That's why I'm going there."

There was a long pause.

"Then nuclear armaments will be our last resort," the commander replied, noncommittally. "I wish you the best of luck."

"You should wish for more than that. Wish that I succeed – or die. Because if I survive, then see a nuke falling from the sky later...I'm going to hunt down and kill every single one of you."

The silence that fell was so heavy that it made the previous pause feel like a blink in comparison.

"Jason Miller. I think I may have misheard you. Is that a threat?"

"No," he stated. "This is a threat."

Jason activated Dimension Strike and reached across space. He found the commander miles away, placed his hand on the man's shoulder–

And squeezed softly.

He ended the call – which had been on speaker – then held up his other hand, asking for silence from the room. After a few seconds, he used Dimension Strike to carry his voice across the country, whispering softly into the commander's ear with a cold, sharp voice. "I'm watching you. Betray me, and I'll know."

Jason canceled Dimension Strike. Only after double-checking with Voyeur Avoider, confirming that there were no listening devices around, did he allow himself to continue. All the edge and grit was gone from his inflection, replaced by a mischievous, carefree tone. "Okay, team. Bought us some time. We just have to clear the Spire ourselves, and then they won't nuke it. Probably."

He turned his head, peering into the distance. "Also, gotta admit – I hope I targeted the right guy with Dimension Strike. Have to know their location for it to work, and honestly, I'm not super sure I remember the office those suits are in. Give it even odds that I just scared the shit out of some intern."

Amidst their small group, it was a tall, masked wrestler with a dinosaur head who spoke first. "I can't believe they would even consider nukes," Lucio muttered. "The fallout alone would be catastrophic. Aren't they worried about what that would do to people in the area?"

Despite being experimented on by Valmight and partially merged with Blightspawn flesh, Lucio had never lost his heart. Jason couldn't help but smile at the luchador's optimism. He was a good enough guy that he couldn't imagine why the higher-ups were ignoring potential harm to civilians. While most people called Lucio 'Dinoman', a holdover from his wrestler days, to Jason, he was merely a friend.

"Because they're scared," Sergeant Danse snapped, speaking up next. "Hiding in their ivory towers won't work long-term against TCP and the Outsiders." He rubbed his temples. "Disregarding the possibility of massive collateral damage...we've been working hard to limit how we engage the Outsiders, make sure they don't adapt too far. This could destroy our balancing act. Have those idiots forgotten that? Right, of course they have. It's always some stupid bald fuck who's never been deployed making the call on big shit like this."

Danse glanced at Jason. "You'd better make good on your threats if it comes to that."

Jason smirked. "So we just abandoning pretenses then? You're technically my superior. Should be telling me to obey orders and all that jazz."

"The chain of command imploded around the third or fourth time you brought me to fight with monsters."

"Not my fault you make for an awesome getaway driver."

As they bantered, Jeanette pulled out her pistol and looked it over. "If the Blightspawn keep adapting..." She grimaced. "Tanks are having trouble with some of them now. Imagine if they survive a nuke. We can't exactly escalate after that, can we?"

Ironically enough, Jeanette possessed one of the few weapons the Blightspawn didn't seem to grow resistant to. Although her gun resembled a 9mm pistol in basic appearance, it was the result of another Valmight experience, infused with Blightspawn flesh and endowed with pseudo-telekinetic abilities. Whoever wielded the pistol could control its bullets' flight paths with their mind.

Considering that Jeanette had recently qualified for the 10m Air Pistol in the Olympics, it wasn't surprising that she'd taken to the Blight Gun like a fish to water. Even if the whole world went to shit, she would last longer than almost anyone.

A loud throat-clear silenced the room. Everyone turned to face Baker, who was leaning against a wall near the corner. "I don't know what a nuke is," he impatiently grunted, "but if it comes down to it, I can block it."

"No, you can't – actually, you probably could," Jason remarked. "Think the nuclear fallout would still be an issue, but your barrier says it can block anything, and that logic worked out fine for Rob. We'll keep that idea in our back pocket."

Baker stepped forward, stopping inches away from Jason. "Damn straight we will, human."

This never gets less weird, Jason mused, staring directly into a scowling mirror image of his own face. No wonder he kept affectionately referring to Baker as his evil clone; it felt automatic, instilled into him from an early age by the sub-plot of every cartoon that ever existed. Still, he should work harder to break the habit. While Baker had started off as a Blightspawn, these days, he was as much of a normal person as the rest of them.

Granted, Jason thought, peering at his own hands and then looking around at his companions, not sure that's a super high bar to clear.

Seeming to interpret the silence as a challenge, Baker raised his arm and clenched his fist. A brief gust of air blew all over his body, his eye igniting with the bright light of Human Install. "Don't forget – after we kill the Blight and my old Masters, you owe me a rematch. A real rematch."

Jason didn't take a single step back. Instead, he grinned and called up his own Blight Install, feeling misshapen scales form on the half of his face where an inhuman eye now resided. "Ready whenever you are, fellow human," he taunted. "Always down to kick your ass again. Last I checked, I'm up 2-0."

"2-1!" Baker angrily corrected. "I won our first duel. And that's only if you count the fight where my body was phasing out of existence!"

"You're welcome for the eye, by the way. And where did you learn to count? That fight got interrupted!"

"I learned from your head! My human reasoning comes from your memories, Jason Miller!"

He must suck at math, then. "Danse saved you from getting killed the first time." Jason nodded at the soldier. "Tell him, Danse! You were there when the army showed up!"

The sergeant merely shrugged in response, refusing to lift his gaze from the rifle he was cleaning. "I'm not getting in the middle of this."

"Then don't." Baker's voice adopted a mocking tone, obviously meant to egg Jason on. "Why ask for an outside opinion when we can settle this right now?" His hand crept towards the greatsword strapped to his back. "We're both well-rested. Let's go for a round."

There were plenty of reasons to say no. They could use this time to work on gaining Levels, and any injuries they sustained would make defending civilians from Blightspawn attacks more difficult, and they still needed to prepare for the Spire invasion ramping up soon...the list went on for days.

"You're on," Jason replied. He grasped the hilt of his greatsword, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "I'm game if you're game."

Neither of the two budged an inch. Everyone else went quiet, waiting to see who would draw their blade first.

They never got the chance. Rolling her eyes, Jeanette raised her Blight Gun and fired it between the two of them. The bullet threaded the needle between their noses, so close that both men felt the wind kicked up by its arc.

Jason and Baker instinctively leaped back, though their reaction came well after the shot had already missed them. It was too fast for their eyes follow, leaving them to turn towards the sound the bullet made whenever it ricocheted off something.

First, it bounced off a metal pole behind their group. Then Jeanette flicked her wrist, causing the bullet to bounce off a lightpost on the other side. With an air of subdued annoyance, she guided its path, using her gun like a conductor's wand for an orchestra. Finally, she brought her wrist down in a harsh motion.

Lucio promptly triggered his own Blight form. Dinoman, now armored in otherworldly, reptilian scales, lunged forward and grabbed the bullet in one motion. "Worry not," he assured the group, proudly holding up his successful catch with an uninjured hand. "Jeanette killed enough of its momentum for me to grab it safely."

"I'm more worried about what that would've done if it hit us," Jason commented, letting out a low whistle. "Like, I've got no idea how resilient I actually am. Hasn't exactly been stress-tested."

Baker nodded absently, regarding Jeanette with a wary look, as if unsure whether the gunslinger was planning to take another shot. She instead glared at them both, holding her judgemental gaze for long enough that the silence grew painful.

"That was just to get your attention." Her tone sounded as dry as desert sand. "Enough with the dick measuring contest. You're clones of each other; they're probably the same size. Let's focus on the Spire and the nukes."

God I love her. He really needed to get that ring customized. Assuming he could, anyway, what with the whole apocalypse thing going on.

Betraying nothing on his face, Jason slowly nodded. "I guess that's fair," he acknowledged, with a mild pout. "The nukes are kind of a big deal." Hope Rob doesn't have to deal with any more of those. He was vague about how he got those Dwarves to stop playing mad scientist.

Baker, however, frowned in confusion. "Why would we measure dicks? What's the value in that? Aren't Levels a better criterion for establishing dominance?" He looked towards Jason. "Show me your Character Sheet, Human. What's your Level?"

"Mine's pretty big," Jason immediately countered, unable to help himself. "We're talking double digits. What about–"

They heard a click as Jeanette reloaded her gun.

Both men stopped talking.

In truth, Jason knew it was all performative. Jeanette would never actually hurt them, even if they'd started piledriving each other into the floor. Her aim with the Blight Gun was supernaturally accurate, too, so they'd hadn't been at risk during her impromptu performance. It was still hard not to get at least a bit scared of a bullet flying right by his face – despite how he could probably tank a shot or two with his increased Vitality.

Although Baker appeared to regard her with concern normally reserved for handling wild animals. Jason sort of understood why, given how Jeanette fought during the Valmight incident, but he also didn't really 'get' it. He'd asked Baker to explain a couple times, but their debate was always went the same way. "She shot herself in the arm to stay awake. Three times. That's crazy," Baker would say. "That's hot," Jason would retort. At which point Baker would frown in a combination of disgust and disbelief and walk off.

"Can't wait until I get to clock out today," Danse mumbled, with poorly-disguised fear. The rest of the group all looked at him with varying degrees of guilt. He was the only normal person among them; this kind of messing around was probably even more unnerving to a baseline human without Levels, Blight powers, or magic guns.

"Danse," Jason began, "I'm sorry."

The sergeant replied a moment too quickly. "It's fine." He gradually exhaled. "Subject Zero – Rob – does he have to deal with crap like this? Must be tough being stuck in a world of fantasy weirdos."

"Not that he would admit this, but from what he's told me, he's the weird one."

"Then may god have mercy on their souls."

Danse's mood evidently hadn't improved. "I'm sorry," Jason repeated, with genuine remorse. "I'm like, really sorry."

"Are you?" the soldier questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Good." Danse gave Jason a nod, then glanced back down at his rifle. "So you don't mind me getting first billing on our new set of action figures? Limited edition. Should sell out in hours."

Jason held up both hands and stepped away, as if having nearly tread on a landmine. "Whoa! Hold on there. This is this, and that is that."

"Ten seconds," Jeanette grumbled. "Firing a bullet is apparently worth ten whole seconds of peaceful cooperation."

Lucio, who Jason wasn't sure fully understood the tension in the room, spoke next. "Our military has proven that peaceful cooperation is harder to achieve than imagined," he mused. "How can we stop them from attempting to nuke the Spires? No, wait, that's not the right question..."

He shook his head, then held his reptilian chin in concentration. Jason valiantly suppressed his laughter as he watched the absurdity of a bipedal luchador dinosaur man sink into deep thought. After a few seconds, Lucio perked up. "How can we get inside the Spires and rid the world of them?" he finished.

The forthright sincerity of the question made Jason recall what his old coach used to tell him. Task focus. Lucio was right; it was time to get in gear and concentrate on overcoming the obstacle in front of him. "Ideally," he began, in a serious tone, "others will solve this problem before we need to make a move. There's multiple research groups working on a TCP vaccine – or whatever technological equivalent we'll need."

Baker didn't appear convinced. "You think human sorcerers can truly conjure up something like that?"

Scientists, man. Just call them scientists. "To be honest, if you'd asked me a while ago, I would've been skeptical that they could," Jason conceded. "But considering what Valmight managed to create by going full mad scientist..."

He trailed off, gesturing towards the Blight Gun, Lucio's dinosaur scales, Baker, and his own eye. "Sucks to give Valmight anything resembling a compliment, but you have to admit that human ingenuity can get pretty far."

"The Doctor only made such progress because he glimpsed into Infinity," Baker fired back. "If not for that, he wouldn't have been able to develop new magecraft of this magnitude."

Science. It's – never mind. "Fair point, but now our guys also have his notes to work off," Jason pointed out.

Danse sighed. "Can't say I'm a fan of anyone having access to that lunatic's research. They haven't made heads or tails out of most of it, but still...eh, that's a problem for the future. Right now we just need to hope they'll figure something out that can help us."

Jason nodded, specifically not revealing that he was planning to storm the government and burn down Valmight's research after Rob made it home. Wonder if I'll have to convince him to help, or if he'll just jump at the chance. Dude seemed already kind of upset about the authority figures in Fantasyland.

"Thing is," Jeanette interjected, "we can't just pin our hopes on scientists finding a cure for TCP in the future. Not when there's apparently going to be nukes raining down if we don't get this solved soon. And even if they do create a vaccine, with how worried the military sounds about the Spire's geothermal activity, they might pull the trigger anyway."

"Fun as it would to say 'I told you so' as the military whines about Blightspawn with full immunity to their weapons..." Jason drew a deep breath. "Okay, here's the plan. I'll use Purge Corruption to cut open a path, healing us whenever necessary. We break inside and then–"

He cut himself off, hesitating. "No idea. Wing it? There's probably something important in there for us to kill. If we get lucky, it'll take the whole thing down."

Lucio – Dinoman – emphatically agreed with the plan. "Whether or not we destroy the Spire entirely, if we can accomplish something of noteworthy value, it would make the government hold off on the nuclear option. I'd consider that a resounding win."

Sergeant Danse shook his head. "That's too optimistic. What if they just give us a pat on the back and say sorry, not enough? Or what if we get poisoned by heavy Corruption? I don't think Jason's Purge ability can keep up with what the Spire puts out."

It definitely couldn't. Not yet, at least. Noticing that Jason wasn't chiming in to correct him, Danse pressed on, putting more emphasis into his words. "The people in this room have the only weapons and abilities that the Blightspawn aren't adapting to. If we die, there might not be anyone left to save people from the invasion...or from themselves, apparently. We have to think of a plan that doesn't involve–"

Suddenly, a circular rift opened in the middle of the air.

Portal. PORTAL! Before Jason could even finish processing the thought, a small, medieval-looking wooden crate fell out. It landed on the floor with a soft thunk. The portal closed as swiftly as it had opened, leaving behind that lone container and a room full of stillborn panic.

Everyone froze, halfway through drawing their weapons. The process of the portal appearing, delivering its package, and vanishing had taken less than a second. As people started to babble, Jason just stared, his eyes fixated on the crate.

Well, now. What do we have here?

He had more right to be cautious than anyone else in the world. His track record with random portals was – to put it mildly – hot garbage. Still, he found himself creeping forward, his mind filled with a blooming curiosity.

"Wait," Danse warned him. "It could be a trap, Jason. Don't–"

Jason immediately opened the crate. It was filled with...necklaces? Pendants? There were dozens of jewelry pieces, all of them with a distinct fantasy aesthetic to them. He'd never seen designs like these before.

More importantly, Jason grinned with relief as he spotted a note stacked on top. While its handwriting was unrecognizable, the opening line was enough to let him know that this delivery was trustworthy, and that he could relax.

Dear Shitlord,

Rob here. Got a care package for you. Long story short – I've destroyed enough Corrupted Loci that our radios can reach outside again. Sometimes. Managed to contact the Fiends. Told our dimension mages to send you a bunch of anti-Corruption Amulets. They'll shield you from ambient Corruption. Wearing them should make invading the Spire a lot easier.

Hell yeah that'll make things easier for us. Wonder if the scientists would appreciate some too? Studying the amulets might advance their research into a TCP vaccine.

I also dictated this letter for the Fiends to send. Now, I know what you're thinking. You can't recognize the handwriting. What if this is a trick? It didn't turn out well the last time you accepted a magical amulet.

Jason blinked. Oh man, I really should've thought of that, huh? If he asks, I'm gonna tell him I was 100% suspicious from the very beginning.

So to prove that I'm actually Rob...I'm going to recount something only us two would know: the most embarrassing moment of your life.

The rest of the note was one paragraph long.

Jason crumpled it up and stuck it in his pocket. "The crate is safe," he announced to everyone. "It's got amulets that will help us stave off Corruption bullshit. Courtesy of Rob."

"You sure it's from him?" Jeanette questioned.

Goddamn it, that really was the first thing I should've thought of. His tendency to trust anything with Rob's name attached to it was a blind spot he might need to be wary of. Would suck if the gods or some other douchebag exploited it.

"Positive," Jason eventually answered. "He, uh, mentioned something only he would know."

Jeanette's mouth widened into a mischievous grin. "Oooh, in that note? Can we read it?"

"Fuck no."

"Aw, c'mon! Let me see!"

Baker nodded absently. "I have access to your early memories, human. If you do not wish to share the contents of that note, then I am more than willing to provide our Party with context."

Jason casually drew his sword. "Speak a word and die."

In response, the Blightspawn Hybrid cackled madly, drawing his own sword with an identical motion. "So you want to settle things now, then?"

Lucio rushed up beside the two, trying to create some distance between them. "Please don't fight!" he pleaded, in a distressed voice. At the same time, Jeanette raised her guns with a frown on her face. "Don't you dare fight, you fucking idiots!" she shouted.

Danse rubbed his temples, feeling a migraine coming on. "I hate this family sometimes."

--

Thanks for reading!