Mistrunner 4 - Chapter 40 - Bane of Mystics (Patreon)

There are many mystics in the universe, and like any other population, some are good, others are bad, and a scant few are exceptional in either direction. But the vast majority are, by definition, average, and there is a wide gulf between each extreme.

Gala Iamaxis

I narrowed my eyes as I leveraged every thread of thought at my disposal toward accomplishing my chosen task. And to my ultimate surprise, I tore through the alien mystic’s natural defenses in mere seconds. It was like ripping through so much paper, which was such a far cry from what I’d experienced while trying to infiltrate mystic cores in the past that I almost lost my concentration.

Still, despite that brief stumble, I managed to maintain my focus until his core was laid out before. It was a small, pitiful thing that elicited a pang of sadness. I knew that the process to become a mystic was a terrible thing that usually resulted in those would-be mystics becoming untethered wildlings. So, I’d assumed that they were all just as committed as I was to training and progression.

Clearly, that was not the case, considering what I saw of my latest victim’s core. It wasn’t just anemic, though that was a good description. In addition to being small, it was diffuse and, when I trained my senses on it, I got the feeling that it was even weaker than its loose structure would suggest. Obviously, I’d stumbled upon someone who’d become a mystic, then thought they’d made it. Given that, he probably didn’t think they ever had to work again.

A silly idea, and one I intended to underline.

So, I reached out, and following instincts whose origin I didn’t really recognize, I squeezed.

The only sign that the mystic felt it was a slight widening of his glowing green eyes before, suddenly, he went entirely limp. He was dead before they hit the floor.

For normal people, being cut off from the Mist was painful and exhausting, but they could live through it. For a mystic, though, attacking their supply of Mist was tantamount to cutting a human being off from oxygen, but even more dramatic in its effect. The result was that when I squeezed that core of Mist, the dwarf mystic lost the motivating force that kept him alive.

Usually, that wouldn’t have been possible. However, he was so weak, and his core was so small that I had no trouble wrapping my awareness around it and squeezing the life out of it. In more literal terms, I cut those nanites off from everything else, isolating them and draining the energy from the cloud of microscopic robots we refer to as Mist.

Any other time, and I might have wondered how I’d learned that particular technique. Yet, I had other issues on my mind, because the Adjudicators certainly noticed the sudden death of their resident mystic, and they were intelligent enough to recognize that there was an enemy among them. So, they leveled their assault rifles in my direction and fired.

Fortunately, I’d never left Stealth, so they didn’t know precisely where I was. However, they did a fine job of covering most of the area, which meant that I was forced to use Teleport to avoid being peppered with bullets.

Mist drained out of me, but because I had a handle on the mystic’s core, I had no issues yanking his Mist free and adding it to my own store. It wasn’t as dense as my own, but it was enough to replace what I’d just used. Which didn’t really seem fair, but I wasn’t going to argue with something that benefited me.

Teleport took me right behind one of the Adjudicators, and the second I appeared, I ripped the Interdiction Blade from the holster on my back and hacked at his more lightly protected neck. But even though the armor was thinner there, that didn’t mean it was non-existent, and I couldn’t thrust any Mist into the blade to make it more powerful. Still, I had quite a lot of strength from my inflated Constitution attribute, and I didn’t let it go to waste. The blade didn’t cut through the Adjudicator’s armor, but the sheer momentum of my attack broke his neck.

He flopped to the ground, just like the mystic, already dead when he hit the tiles.

By that point, though, the other Adjudicators had reacted to my presence. They swung their weapons around and fired. I dodged, but not quickly enough; thankfully, that’s where [Shielding] proved its worth. It didn’t stop the powerful gunfire, but it did slow the bullets down enough that, when they hit the armored portions of my infiltration suit, they stopped cold before they even got to my subdermal armor.

Even so, it threw me off just enough that I missed my next attack, which should have gone the same as the first and ended with another Adjudicator going down. Instead, my blade glanced off the Adjudicator’s helmet, sending sparks as metal ground against metal. Then, another burst of gunfire thudded into me. Each bullet ate a little of my Mist aura, ruining the integrity of my shield.

It was still effective enough to keep the rounds from getting past my infiltration suit, though I knew it wouldn’t be long before they got through. After that, my subdermal shield would be put to the test.

And I knew it would eventually fail, too. It wasn’t heavy armor, and though I’d upgraded it almost a dozen times since acquiring the cybernetic sheath of subdermal armor, it still couldn’t compete with more obtrusive gear. What it did have on its side was that it did nothing to affect my speed of flexibility, so when I moved, I did so with all of my hard-won agility.

I bounded off the nearby wall, kicking into a leap that took me all the way to the other side. Behind me, Adjudicators continued to fire, but they couldn’t move their weapons quickly enough to keep up. So, when I finally went in for another attack, I was blessedly free of hampering gunfire.

I couldn’t bring my weapon around in time, so I aimed a flying kick at the Adjudicator’s neck. It landed with all my momentum and weight behind it, and he went skidding backward into the wall. Or he would have if I hadn’t grabbed his weapon, and as soon as my feet hit the ground, yanked it toward me. He maintained his grip, which meant that he was suddenly jerking in the opposite direction.

Which took him straight into my outstretched arm, sending him into a flip that took him to the ground. That’s when I took my Interdiction Blade in both hands and brought it down in a hacking attack that dented the armor in his throat. He tried to scream, but the blow must have crushed whatever passed for a voice box, because the sound came out in a choking cough.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t spare the time to finish him off, because his partner – the last remaining Adjudicator – hit me with a shoulder tackle that sent me thudding against the wall. I felt a couple of ribs break, but more distressingly, he maintained his grip, pinning me into place as he pummeled me with what felt like a dozen body shots a second.

Clearly, he was using some sort of ability.

Which wasn’t fair, considering he was entirely insulated from my Mist attacks. But I wasn’t really in any position to consider the fairness of the world, because with every passing moment, Constitution was being put to the test. If I let him keep going, I was going to end up with more than just a couple of broken ribs. So, with that in mind, I reached out, grabbed his helmet, and I twisted with every ounce of strength I could muster.

At first, nothing happened. The Adjudicator had clearly worked quite a bit on his own Constitution, and as a result, he resisted my attempt to break his neck with impressive vigor. Yet, even though I didn’t typically train for muscle mass, instead focusing on agility and endurance, I still had a Constitution approaching five-hundred. And against that, there was nothing he could really do.

I let out a roar as I finally overcame his strength, and his neck snapped to the side. It didn’t break, though. I could tell that because I hadn’t heard the sound of breaking bones, which, with Observation, I certainly would have. Still, I knew I’d at least torn a couple of muscles, and he stumbled backwards, flailing as his head flopped side to side.

That was the opening I needed, and I brough my sword around in a brutal strike that hit the side of his head with enough force to send him stumbling away and into the opposite wall. I was on him in an instant, hitting him again.

And again after that.

All in all, it took seven more attacks before he fell to the ground. I still didn’t knock him out, though. He was hard headed like that, apparently. But he was defenseless when I finally managed to land an attack to his neck. It didn’t cut through his armor, but it did crease the sturdy material. The next cracked it a little, and the one after that finally cut through. Finally, I was rewarded with the sight of orange blood.

After that, it was just a few more good hacks before his head rolled free.

“That armor is no joke,” I muttered to myself, wiping the sweat from my forehead. Then, I looked back at the lone remaining Adjudicator. He’d stumbled down the hall a bit, obviously trying to get away. Yet, I knew he wouldn’t make it. Perhaps the crushed through wouldn’t kill him. But I intended to hasten him along. So, I pulled the Emperor from my arsenal implant, took aim, and used Empowered Shot before firing. The first shot took him in the back, sending him sprawling to the floor where he skidded to a stop fifteen feet later. But the armor kept the round from destroying his torso.

The second shot was far more effective, tearing through that armor and obliterating his insides. He died unceremoniously.

I took a deep breath, then let it out in a sigh.

The Adjudicators had been more difficult to kill than the mystic, which just seemed wrong to me. Obviously, the dwarf – which was how I’d chosen to think of him – had not been very powerful, which was both disappointing and reassuring. Just because someone was a mystic didn’t mean they would be all-powerful. Indeed, they seemed to be just as subject to the laws of averages as anyone else.

I took solace in that.

But I also wondered where the ones I’d already killed fit onto the spectrum. Was the woman I’d fought back in the Templar village strong for a mystic? Or was she just the best of the rejects? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t certain if I would find out anytime soon.

As I turned my attention to the door, the tenor of the everpresent wind-like whispers reached a fever pitch, yet I still couldn’t understand what they were saying. After only a few seconds, they faded away, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that I was missing something extremely important. Perhaps I could ask Freddy about it, assuming that he hadn’t gotten himself killed already.

That was a very real possibility, considering that we had lost touch with most Earth’s other defenders when Alistaris had been abducted. Hopefully, rescuing him would give us some much-needed direction.

So, I approached the door with some degree of optimism, and I reached out with Mist Authority. However, I was surprised to find that the door wasn’t locked. That put my guard up, but I reasoned that even if I was walking into a trap, that fact couldn’t dissuade me from my mission. Trap or not, I had to rescue Alistaris. If it was one, though, I was confident that I could tear through whatever measures my enemies had taken to contain me.

I commanded the door to slide open, then I stepped inside the room.

That’s when I saw more of Alistaris than I ever wanted to.

He hung from ceiling, naked as the day he’d been born. His arms were extended above his head, and around his wrists were shackles that were, in turn, attached to a pair of Mist-infused chains that stretched to either side of the room. His legs were similarly bound, which made for something of a unique sight.

But even more distressing was his condition. His face was completely purple and so misshapen that I wondered if the integrity of his skull had been breached. Moreover, his body wasn’t in much better condition, and I could see bones bulging from his torso as well as his arms in all the wrong places.

I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing, he was so still.

Which was why I flinched a bit when he opened one eye and said, “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Before I could respond, a pair of auto-turrets descended from the ceiling and opened fire. I tried to leap out of the way, but something whipped out and wrapped around my right leg. Then my left received similar treatment. I ripped it free, but by that point, the bullets were tearing into me.

I dropped to the ground, curling up in the fetal position as I depended on my aura to protect me. It didn’t.

The bullets shattered it in a second or two, thudding into my back. The infiltration suit blocked the first few, but it had never been built to stop that kind of damage. So, it wasn’t long before it failed, too, leaving me with only my subdermal armor for protection.

And I couldn’t deny that that elicited a bit of panic, because when I’d tried to extend a tendril of Mist Authority in the direction of one of the auto-turrets, I’d slammed against a dense Mistwall. Frantically, I worked to dismantle it, but it was at least as high-grade as anything I’d ever encountered. I knew I could get through it, but just as surely, I knew it would take time as well.

And that was one thing I didn’t have.

So, I shifted my entire mind – every single thread – to the task as I tried to pummel my way through. At first, it felt like I was banging my fists against a brick wall, but I was nothing if not persistent, so it was only a matter of seconds before I shattered the first layer. The second came soon after that. And the third. Each node I took down further destabilized the shield, which made my job all the easier.

Even so, I was trying to do it while a powerful gun was trying to and succeeding in filling me full of holes. Each shot threatened to topple my focus, but through an exercise of willpower, I maintained concentration long enough to finally batter my way through the Mistwall and take command of the weapon. As soon as I did, I turned the barrels toward its twin and let loose.

At the same time, I sent another thread of Mist Authority at the second gun. As I attacked it from that angle, the other auto-turret assailed it from the other. And before long, I finished it off.

But by that point, I was more than a little injured, with multiple gaping gunshot wounds in my back and torso. According to the readout on my HUD, both my lungs were punctured, my liver had been all but destroyed, and I had more broken bones than I could count. Yet, it could have been worse. Machines didn’t get modifiers like people did, so they could only depend on their not-insignificant design, as well as the skill of their maker, to deal damage. These two auto-turrets had been powerful, and against anyone else, they probably would have had no issues bringing any intruder down.

But I wasn’t anyone else.

And I had barely survived.

Now, I just needed to fix the damage. So, I gathered my Mist, then used the healing associated with [Mist-Infused Body], instantly recovering. I hated that I’d had to use it; normally, I wanted to keep it in reserve for emergencies. But I reasoned that if ever there was a crisis, this was it.

The ability took hold, and my body mended. Bones snapped back into place, and my organs rebuilt themselves. At the same time, my flesh knitted itself back together as slugs were ejected from my body. It was an odd feeling, and it was anything but painless, but I endured the few seconds of discomfort before finally rising to my feet.

“Wish I could do that,” Alistaris muttered. “Would you mind freeing me? Because I feel a bit exposed.”

I reached out with Mist Authority and, after a few moments, found the system that controlled his chains. A second later, I’d burst through the Mistwall and deactivated them. He fell to the floor in a boneless heap. I rushed to his side, already retrieving a med-hypo from my arsenal implant. Then, I jabbed into his naked hip, dispersing it a moment later.

“Can you walk?” I asked, pulling a spare shirt from my storage. I draped it over his shoulders.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, pushing himself upright. “You have another one of those hypos?”

I did, so I gave him another shot. Then another after that. Normally, I would have been a little worried about overdoing it, but Alistaris claimed he could take it. So, I chose to trust his judgement. Soon enough, he’d donned my shirt, which hung down past his knees like a dress. I looked him up and down, but I didn’t say anything.

Still, he asked, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You smirked.”

“I did not,” I insisted, though I could feel the corners of my mouth turning upward. “Must be a trick of the light or a cultural misunderstanding. I would never smirk at you, regardless of how ridiculous you look."

He sighed. "Very well," the Dingyt said. “May I have a weapon? I have been disarmed.”

“Sure,” I said, dragging my old R-14 from my arsenal implant. I handed it over. “It’s not the best weapon in the universe, but it’ll work.”

“It will do just fine,” he said, ejecting the magazine. He checked it, then jammed it back into the well. “Let’s go. I presume you have a plan for your escape.”

“Sure. Fly away.”

“That’s not a plan.”

“Close enough. C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

And with that, I headed toward the exit. All the enemies were already dead, so I didn’t even bother with Stealth.