Mistrunner 4 - Chapter 5 - Carnage (Patreon)

The universe is supposed to have rules. It shouldn’t just be a capitalist dystopia where all that matters is how much money or influence you can snatch away from the weak and powerless. That’s why I do the things I do, fight the wars I fight. Anyone capable of making a difference who chooses otherwise is a coward.

Alistaris Kargat

“I’m in position,” Patrick said through our Secure Connection. “Just give me the word, and I’ll come in, guns blazing.”

“That doesn’t fill me with a lot of confidence,” I muttered, though I didn’t let it go through. He wouldn’t appreciate any admission that I feared for his safety and wished that he would choose another way to contribute to the cause. Sure, he was wearing a suit of armor the likes of which nobody else in the world could acquire. He should have been protected, provided he didn’t completely shut his mind down. But that didn’t seem to matter so much when I knew all the ways any battle could go wrong. Still, I couldn’t keep him from the fight. He wouldn’t allow it. Even if I could stop him, he’d just go off and fight without me. At least this way, I could look out for him.

My Ghost had already was nearing the end of its gestation period, so we only had to wait until the bodies started falling, and then we would be free to commence the assault. As such, I had my Pulsar in hand, and I’d positioned myself atop the tallest building. From there, I could see much of the base, though the sightlines weren’t as expansive as I might’ve hoped. That meant that, before everything was said and done, we’d have to fight building-to-building.

Which was fine, if a little more dangerous than I would’ve preferred.

In any case, at least they couldn’t call for help; I’d already re-routed their communications, so while they could call out, their messages would never reach their intended destinations. It was a necessity so we wouldn’t run the risk of being interrupted while we were inside the Rift. According to the file I’d been given, the Crutacaans didn’t have any other operations on Earth, but they did have a few allies they could call to for help.

In any case, I continued my vigil until, at last, I saw the first Crutacaan tip over and die. Then another. And another after that. They kept falling until, at last, sixty out of the reported hundred aliens had died to my Ghost.

That’s when I opened fire.

Targeting the alien with the densest Mist aura, I used Empowered Shot, then Execute before firing. The round, which was empowered to a ridiculous degree, tore through him with enough kinetic force that it looked like he simply exploded in a shower of shell, white meat, and similarly milky blood.

Then, I sighted in on another one and fired. Even without abilities, my modifiers were immense, and the results were largely predictable. The second Crutacaan went down just like the first, though it remained more or less intact, aside from the gaping hole in its shell. It died all the same.

As it fell, Patrick arrived like a tank on two legs, bursting through the bubble and crashing into a building. It crumpled under the combination of his weight and strength, exposing the Crutacaan inside. It reacted quickly, as befit a creature powerful enough to survive my Ghost, launching itself at him.

I shot it in the torso, but the round was slowed by a personal shield. The alien lived through the shot, then hit Patrick in a flying tackle.

And it was stopped cold as a blue Mist shield bloomed in front of Patrick. It only lasted a brief second, but it kept the Crutacaan’s sharp claws from tearing into Patrick’s mechanized armor. It also served to rob it of its momentum as it rebounded off the shield and tumbled to the dry seabed.

Patrick rushed forward and aimed a kick at the monstrous alien, taking it in the shield. A loud crack filled the air as the impact sent it flying into a nearby building. That’s when I shot it again; this time, I’d taken the time to use Empowered Shot, so when the bullet hit, it did so with predictably explosive force. The creature died instantly as its crab-like head erupted in a shower of gore.

But by that point, the rest of the Crutacaans had responded, flooding out of the buildings to combat the threat they could see. If I’d been alone, they almost assuredly would have taken refuge in the structures. However, with Patrick out there in his shining white armor, he provided the perfect distraction. So, even as they raced toward him, I started firing.

I didn’t bother with abilities. Instead, I trusted my weapon and my modifiers as I squeezed the trigger as quickly as I could shift my aim. I wasn’t trying to kill anything right off. I knew that was a tall order, what with their clearly advanced constitutions and thick shells. But I could injure them and slow them down so that I could pick them off at my leisure.

In the past, I never would have put Patrick in such danger. He was too fragile. But with that armor – and the shield he’d somehow built into it – he was more than a match for the flood of Crutacaans. So, even as he set his feet and activated his shield, I fired. One shot after another. Shells shattered. Milky white blood flew. And flesh scattered across the seafloor. And yet, Patrick remained unharmed as he took shelter behind his shield.

I had no idea how he was powering it. The thing was at least ten feet across and tall enough that he didn’t even have to crouch to stay behind it. The Mist requirements for such a thing should have been so steep as to make it impractical. And yet, he was making it work.

For now. Eventually, he would run dry of Mist. And then, he’d be a sitting duck. So, I kept firing until, at last, the scenario I’d feared presented itself. The shield winked out, and the remaining Crutacaans swept in for the kill. One overly large claw took him in the shoulder. Another hit him in the legs. A third went in for his torso.

I screamed, already leaping from the building. I exchanged the Pulsar for my assault rifle, taking aim as I fell. After using Explosive Shot, I squeezed the trigger, peppering the monstrous aliens with one exploding round after another.

I hit the ground hard, then rolled forward to absorb some of the shock before I sprang upright and into a sprint. All the while, I never stopped firing.

But Patrick hadn’t stood idle, either. Even as I watched, his right arm extended and unfolded into a blade almost as wide as his torso. The edge crackled with blue energy as he deployed it in a backhanded swing that sliced right through a hastily raised claw. The Crutacaan who owned it screeched and fell back, but Patrick wasn’t letting it get off so easily. He stepped forward, rearing back to bring the blade to bear in a powerful, overhand attack.

The Crutacaans were no slouches, though, and they adjusted to the new weapon with such alacrity that Patrick had no chance to respond when they swept in and latched their claws onto his armor.

That’s when I finally reached the battle; my assault rifle, even with my modifiers and Explosive Shot, was incapable of doing more than minor damage to the Crutacaans, but I certainly had something that would be more effective. So, I exchanged the rifle for my nano-bladed sword and leaped at the rear-most alien.

The blade swept out, crackling with blue energy as it bit deep into he first Crutacaan’s shell. I kept moving, using my momentum to my advantage as I aimed a spinning attack at the next closest alien’s thick, armored neck. It went through without issue, easily decapitating the creature.

I leaped back, avoiding another snapping claw before whipping Ferdinand II from the holster at my hip. I spun around, aiming it at the back of another Crutacaan’s head, then squeezed the trigger. The pistol bucked in my head, evidence of the powerful ammunition I’d loaded, and a second later, the creature’s head exploded.

Or I thought it did, judging by the bits of crab-person that splattered against my back as I turned my attention to another Curtacaan. Like that, I continued. With one hand, I lashed out with my nano-bladed sword, and with the other, I wielded Ferdinand II.

Normally, I would have kept my distance, but with Patrick under siege, I didn’t have that luxury. Maybe he could stand up to the assault, and maybe he couldn’t. But I wasn’t willing to test the durability of his armor in its first real outing. He’d proven its viability, and logic dictated that we take it one step at a time.

Still, even as I steadily dismantled the Crutacaan warriors, I was impressed with his showing. Patrick’s armor was performing as well as could be expected, but what really surprised me was its potential as a weapons platform. If it had enough Mist to run that shield, then what kinds of guns could we put on it?

It was a fantastic idea, but one that would have to wait until later. For now, I needed to focus on finishing the last of the crab-like aliens. To that end, once I’d thinned the numbers to something manageable, I used Disengage to put some distance between me and the group, then exchanged the assault rifle for the much more powerful Pulsar.

Taking aim, I resumed my assault, picking off one Crutacaan after another. It was odd. With Patrick there taking the brunt of their attention – and rightly so, given that the armor was huge, bulky, and painted blindingly white with gold trim – I was free to act with virtual impunity. Sure, some of them noticed me here and there, but I could move so quickly, and I was so comparatively small that they couldn’t really keep track of my movements.

It was a nice change of pace from being the center of attention, and I used the situation to the maximum advantage until, switching between ranged and melee combat until, at last, the final Crutacaan fell to my blade. I skidded to a stop, whipping the sword out to my side to clear the milky blood.

And then, suddenly, everything was quiet.

Patrick’s voice came over our Secure Connection as he asked, “Is that all of them?”

“You want more?” I asked incredulously as I looked around. We’d killed at least forty aliens – there was no telling without counting them, and that would probably be incredibly difficult considering that most of them were in pieces.

“Uh…no? I got six levels there,” he said. “Is this why you’re so much higher than me? Do you get this kind of progression every time you fight?”

“No. I mean, sometimes? I don’t know. It’s weird. Sometimes, I can kill one monster and get a whole level, but then I’ll kill a hundred without moving the needle.”

“Oh. So, I shouldn’t get used to this, huh?”

“Probably not. But what do I know? Doesn’t really matter, I guess. It’s not like we’re doing this specifically to gain levels.”

Even when I’d asked some of my friends in the Bazaar about leveling, I hadn’t really gotten any straight answers. The fact was that nobody really knew what went into how it all worked, except that more powerful kills were more valuable. How much more was up for debate, and it seemed to vary significantly.

In any case, what I’d said was true. Gaining levels was great, but at present, it was more of a side effect than a goal. Perhaps that would change in the future, but for now, we were focused on making money so I could get my skills, and we both could buy new equipment and supplies.

With that in mind, the Rift aperture called to us.

Even so, I knew we needed to take care of things outside before we could get to there. So, our plunder of the base commenced. First, I rifled through the bodies, piling all the weapons and equipment nearby while Patrick headed into the nearest building to do the same. My Ghost had killed plenty of Crutacaans, so I knew it would take a while to sort through them all – a prediction that proved prescient, because we didn’t finish until most of the day had passed.

Still, the result was a significant pile of weapons that Patrick stored via his Pack Mule ability. He was a little cagey about the limits of that storage space, only saying that it would take something truly remarkable for him to run out of room.

After we’d looted all the weapons, we started in on the storehouses. We went through like a pack of locusts, stealing everything that wasn’t nailed down. In the meantime, I also used my Mistwalking to infiltrate every terminal I could find. Once inside, I downloaded hundreds of files, sequestering them into a partitioned portion of my interface.

Overall, the entire looting process took almost two days, and if we’d called it quits right then and there, we’d have still made out pretty well. Normally, we’d have left after that. However, this time was different. We intended to run the Rift.

Which was how we found ourselves standing near the aperture, which was located on the southern side of the base. I looked at it, wondering what we would find on the other side.

“Are you sure about this?” Patrick asked, clearly sensing my hesitation. The last time we’d run a Rift, we’d both nearly died. In fact, every time we’d gone through one of those apertures had ended with similar results. Even going back to my very first Rift – which was fairly low-leveled, all things considered – I’d come close to dying every single time.

And this one was going to be the toughest one yet.

Until recently, I’d considered all Rifts relatively equal. However, that just wasn’t true. Some were clearly deadlier than others. In areas with a higher concentration of Mist, the Rifts were more complex and far more dangerous. And this Rift had been chosen specifically because it was located amidst some of the highest concentrations of Mist in the world.

“I am,” I said. It was the most efficient way to get what we needed. Certainly, it was possible that I could ask Alistaris for help. He’d probably give me all the credits I needed. But I was more than a little wary of what he’d ask in return. I had no intention of subjugating myself to him anymore than I already had, so with that in mind, I didn’t see that I had a lot of other options. “Come on.”

Having steeled my resolve, I stepped forward and passed through the aperture. A moment later, I felt the Mist swirl around and then through me. And then, I was suddenly somewhere else.

Patrick came through only a few seconds later, the heavy steps of the armor loud in my ears. I barely noticed the sound, though. Instead, my attention was wholly focused on our surroundings.

Before me, a huge landscape stretched out, but it was like nothing I had ever seen before. Crystalline trees, each one the color of a real tree, sprouted from the ground creating a glittering carpet of green. In the distance, I saw a palace stretching toward the sky. It was made of yellow crystal, but even from so far away, I could tell that there was something incomprehensibly different about it.

Still, the bulk of my attention was locked onto the giant golems, each looking like it was made of enormous Rift shards, moving through the forest. If they were any less than a hundred feet tall, I would have been incredibly surprised.

“Uh…Mira…”

“I know.”

I took a deep, steadying breath before I repeated, “I know.”

The Rift was clearly very different from anything I had ever experienced. If I had been alone, it wouldn’t have been much of a problem. I was confidence in my Stealth and Camouflage abilities. However, with Patrick by my side, I couldn’t simply sneak through and hope for the best. I’d need an entirely different strategy if we were going to survive.

Suddenly, I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d made a mistake.

I pushed that thought aside, saying, “Come on. We need to find somewhere defensible so we can plan for our assault.”

“Assault on what?”

I pointed to the distant palace. “Seems like a good goal, right? I’m guessing that forest there is full of crazy monsters and challenges. So, we’re going to need to be on the ball if we expect to survive. For now, though, I need to stash you somewhere out of the way so I can scout things out.”

He didn’t refute that claim, so we quickly set off out down the hill where we had arrived, and into the forest.