Chapter 5: Chapter 5- Panic

Chapter 5

Panic

Ariei

 

Panic.

Panic is the gnawing feeling that tears reality apart, casting aside the rational thought of those ensnared to replace it only with terror.

Panic is the screaming ripple that tears from the cranium to the spine, an invasive realization that removes control from the body and replaces it with a tragic resistance.

Panic is the realization that everything is over in a single lapsing moment.

Panic.

Panic is the only emotion presented to me as we’re bathed in the blood of the eight civilians directly in front of me, their corpses mutilated, arranged in a random mosaic of macabre grace beneath the whining behemoth of machinery that is roughly thrust into the massive stone structure around us. We all feel it- a brief moment of unanimous awe as the situation turns from shock to horror. Then the screams. They begin in a scattershot manner, a few here and there, mixed with sobs and gasps. Then the chaos leaves our minds and begins to dance around the Chamber of Council as the stampeding community of Ios scrambles to leave as fast as possible.

Aaro can’t even begin to move. She tries to wipe the blood from her face with her shaking hands, the action messy and ineffective. I look over the scene around me. The drills landed in a scattershot manner, hitting various points around the chamber. Three of them have landed in the large central area, their impact miraculously nonlethal. Four were direct hits into the circular layers around us- two on the top layer, another on the bottom, and the one directly in front of us in the middle. One is at an angle, leaning into the wall in front of the bottom layer. Despite its awkward position, it has led to two casualties. Lastly, of course, is the drill in front of my father, his friend Rietus and our Prosper crushed beneath.

The emberstrand below have drawn their weapons, my father’s face grim and staunch. His rookclaws are at the ready, and he stands back-to-back with Liet. The two of them circle around, their eyes searching the immediate area for any signs of further projectiles. Sekra launches to his feet. He begins to call out, asking any wounded to come to him. They keep moving, the flow of people unable to slow, let alone stop. I grab Aaro under her arm, yanking her to her feet. The shaking has moved from her hands to her entire body. Sekra and I have been exposed to injury and death through our occupation. Aaro, by exchange, has been raised by scholars. She has not experienced death as I have. She is still a child- no, no longer. That innocence is gone.

“Aaro. We have to get away from here.”

She doesn’t respond. Slowly she turns to face me, tears streaming down her face. She slowly extends a hand, her finger pointing to one of the severed hands on the stone ground in front of us. It’s wearing several copper bangles. They are untouched, uncorrupted.

“Ariei. You know who it is, right?” Her voice doesn’t sound sorrowful. It’s simply factual.

My breath catches in my throat. It’s Visia. She was in love with Elias. They’d been friends since childhood, and as I grew up, I always viewed her as a surrogate sister. By the time Elias joined the emberstrand at nineteen we were all certain they were going to marry- he’d even given her those very same bracelets as a promise. Then, when he died, she simply left. Stopped speaking with the rest of us, with the rest of his family. I lost my brother and sister then.

And now she is truly gone. It is a cruel joke of fate, to place her before me, to bury her under an ocean of metal. She looked so different now. If I had managed to recognize her after all this time, we could have had a final word.

I turn back to my friend. “Aaro, I-”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

I grab her arm. “Come on. One foot in front of the other, right?”

She pauses, before nodding. She takes a shaky breath. I look for Sekra. He’s moved towards the back of the middle layer. He’s helping a child, prying sharp stone debris from her fragile arm.

“Sekra! Come on!”

He turns to me. He slowly shakes his head. I decide not to force him, no matter how much I want him in a safer position. I know that this is what he needs to do. I keep dragging Aaro around the ring, colliding and fighting with the stampeding crowd to keep from being shoved over the lip of the structure. Eventually we reach the circular stairwell. It extends into dark abyss below. Although technically not too high, it seems infinite in the moment, threatening to swallow us and never let go. Still, I cross the barrier. Step by step. Step by step.

---

Edom

Step by step, I keep circling the area with Liet. Our eyes are peeled, our ears searching through the cacophony of screams around us. All I can feel is venom. All I can think is anger towards Liet. And yet, I feel strong standing back-to-back with her. It truly is bizarre how the years can consecrate such comradery even as violence grips your world.

“How much more do you know?”

She chuckles, her broadsword held unwavering in her callused hands. The gears along the blade click and hiss as the trigger lies unpressed on the handle.

“Trust me, Edom. I don’t know nearly enough.”

I shake my head. “Don’t take me for a fool, Liet. You made no effort to explain to us what exactly took the waypoint. I was led to believe it was the intelligent eidelion. The surface magnafield reading from the waypoint would’ve illustrated the size of these structures. You hid that from us. Now look around. So many people, dead. Our prosper, dead. RIETUS, DEAD!”

In that moment, I want to betray my guild. I want nothing more than to attack Liet, to show my frustration, my rage. Then, I let it subside. I have a larger duty, I have more people to protect- I have the entire population to protect. I ask another question instead.

“Liet, tell me. Are there other humans?”

She stays quiet. Suddenly, a soft whir emits from the massive drills. The audience screams, the sound loud enough to degrade our manufactured level of focus and drag us into the wave of fear with them. Then, right on cue, a sharp crack as wires shoot upwards from each of the four points on each drill’s base through the rock above, rumbling their way to the surface. I flex my hand, the armored plates giving me the same rising promise of glory I live for.

For a moment, I nearly go deaf. There’s a booming sound- like the firing of a coremag rifle, although much, much grander in scale. Then a volley of high-pitched, agonizing grinds of steel on steel as large cylinders crash through the earth above, sending rocks and debris into both the audience and the central circle. I roll out of the way as a boulder nearly collides with my skull. Liet is hit on the shoulder, but manages to remain safe regardless. I wish I could say the same for everyone else. As far as I can see, twelve more civilians are killed as the friction-heated rock fires over them, despite a large portion of the crowd managing to leave. I’m seething with anger, foaming at the mouth for normalcy.

“This is madness.”

The cylinders slide down the cables, finally landing on top of each drill’s base. They’re made of a variety of metals, mostly stark white. A regal blue trim lines the top circle, extending down in thick lines set around rectangular slots in the sides. A shining trim, made of gold, fills in the spaces between these plates that just out and in around the vessel. Strange sigils- seven in total, made of similar gold- mark themselves along the surface. A hissing steam leaves the base as it settles itself.

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I can’t begin to comprehend. It is unlike anything else I- or any other human- has ever seen. Its construction is immaculate, its function ingenious. I marvel at the amount of gold- I’ve never seen more of it in my life than here, on these nine vessels. It is such a delicacy that the thought of using it to decorate transport vehicles is an anomaly to me. The sigils- unfamiliar, the shapes unidentifiable, even from our small record of history.

“Liet. Is it them?”

She doesn’t answer. I keep prodding. The doors begin to slide open.

“Please, Liet. You most likely know more than I do.” Despite everything, existential awe drowns out my anger. First the intelligent eidelion, now this- all in one day. “Is it the gods? Are they angry that we still exist?”

The doors fully slide upwards, leaving an opening. Almost immediately, a collection of five humans emerge from the closest cylinder. They are clad in an alien form of armor, a celestial construction that seems to have a mind of its own. Under this uncanny mechanism is a simple fabric outfit, the tight material a dark blue with white accents. On top, however, is a shining beacon of vain glory, thick panels of angular, shining steel that coat the body. They flare and move as if having a mind of its own, the surface decorated with beautiful artistic flourishes, each one unique. As they walk, it hisses and whirs, moving perfectly in step with them to provide maximum stability and protection at the same time, each plate and surface in a strange dance with each other. Their heads are covered, a tight helmet with two thin glowing eyes and sharp features moving down into a featureless, unmoving flat plate.

They are angels, towering, graceful beacons of the end. They come to us in the screaming machinery of death.

I will not allow it.

I run forward, screaming, leaping at the first to leave and gripping it head with my rookclaw. I throw it to the ground, position my fist above its expressionless face, and slam it down, the blades sparking as they collide with the helmet. A dent is made, a low scream echoing from its featureless maw through the muffling surface. I bring it down again as the others draw their weapons, thin, graceful curved blades that glow blue under the burning esperstone. Liet rushes forward after me, swinging her broadsword at the legs of one of them as it raises its sword to bring it down on me. Her blade collides with one of its leg plates as it slides into position to guard it, but the sheer force still manages to sweep it off of its feet, and it crashes to the ground.

I punch the angel I’ve pinned to the ground, again, and again. Each time it tries to push me off, but I refuse to allow it. Though they may be ascendants, they forget that I am human. I was born to fight to survive. They may know the universe at large, but I am crafted from its roots. I bring it down one more time, the claws managing to dig beneath the surface of the mask. Blood bubbles up through the cracks, a strained, screaming groan making its way through the tight construction. It tries to push me off, one last time, before finally it goes limp. Liet stabs one through the stomach, squeezing the trigger on the broadsword. The gears accelerate, extending her blade down the middle. The force separates the angel’s stomach, its insides spilling over the already bloodied floor.

I feel the horror, deep down. It is far worse than I imagined. It is a far harder concept to grasp than the gods sending their angels down to exterminate us once and for all. The invaders aren’t otherworldly. They are just humans. We are not alone.

I can hear the screams from the civilians above us. I try to climb the balcony, dodging past the third armored human to get there, but a loud roar gives me pause. I turn to see the last voyager emerge from the cylinder. Contrary to the others, he’s not wearing a helmet. He’s in his early thirties, a thick scar lining his face. His hair is brown, short, spiked. He’s wearing a similar armor to the others, this time with a larger pauldron on his left shoulder, a blue curtain hanging from it. He has a chain attached to his gauntlet, hanging from the wrist. What gives me pause, firstly, is Liet putting her sword away. The other is what’s at the end of his leash.

It’s an eidelion.

It’s a large beast, more intimidating than most we’ve identified. Its body is pure muscle, hidden under long, flowing fur that seems to have a mind of its own It moves on four legs, large claws protruding from its massive paws. It has a golden mane that flows around its neck, its face young, angry. Of course, it has the standard faint glow. When it sees the blood dotting my armor, it snarls, taking a few slow steps forward. The man simply commands it.

“Calm, Beatrius.”

They speak the common tongue. I can barely comprehend what’s happening. The man continues.

“The same for you. Your civilians are safe.” I look over the structure. The humans who left the pods are standing there, still, their weapons in their holsters. Our people are simply unable to comprehend the sights in front of them. Some are praying, just as I might have moments before. Others are throwing rocks, the pebbles simply bouncing off of their armor. I can’t see Ariei. She must have fled.

I turn to stare at the man in front of me. “W-what is… what is this madness…”

I want to break down and cry. My world is falling apart. Everything I know. Everything Braham and I have fought for, the answer is here. And yet all I want is to go back to before this day. If only I could have prevented the expedition today, kept my daughter safe, kept everything from happeni-

He puts his hand on my shoulder. His military composure begins to break. “Please, please. Just- just sit down for a moment. I’m so sorry, I can’t begin to- I- I didn’t know- I-”

I grab him by the shoulder, thrusting him to the ground.

“WHAT?! WHAT IS THIS?” I raise my fist. “WHY?! WHY WOULD YOU KILL SO MANY INNOCENT PEOPLE?!”

His eidelion pet growls again. In my anger I completely forgot the existence of such a paradox. My mind is a mess of conflicting thought processes.

He remains unflinching, uncompromising. “It is understandable if you take my life. Consider it payment for my misdeeds.”

I look him in the eyes. I waver slightly, but I keep my fist raised. He continues.

“We’ve been proceeding westwards. I was ordered to secure a camp underground mid-expedition, as we were caught in the midst of the Highcloud.”

I think for a moment. They must have run into the Maw. I stare at him.

“How? How did you just- decide that?! That’s a multi-decade operation! Ios was built over the course of centuries-”

His eyes widen. “What? Wait- you aren’t scouts from one of the Pillars?” Some of the soldiers around us start to look to each other, whispering. I realize now that they didn’t have their weapons drawn to start with- I was the first aggressor. “No… No. It can’t be.” Liet stares at me, her face gaunt, stern. She keeps her hand on the blade.

The man looks to me. “I can’t believe it. They always told us that no humans lived this far west, that the Highcloud’s influence was too powerful, that it was unsustainable. When we saw that thing in the ground, we thought it was some sort of Highcloud detection device from some scouts, that maybe other Pillars had expanded further out. S- so, when we sent the detection waves down, and looked for a large enough pocket to drill, we didn’t know. We didn’t know people were down here.”

My blood runs cold. It’s a mockery, a jest, a cruel joke. We are the punchline. My entire dedication, those dead around me as I am carried by the sea of corpses to this very moment, every theory, every discovery, every bit of knowledge I and those around me have gathered. An entire civilization hanging on the word of so very few. The blood shed, the blood I’ve shed myself, the years that have worn on me like an old stone. It’s all led up to this single moment of maddening comedy. We’ve finally connected with other humans. They are far more advanced than we are. They are using our worst enemy as tools.

They murdered a large portion of our population based on a simple miscalculation.

I begin to laugh, a sickening howl that I want nothing more than to bury within myself. It claws its way up my throat, spewing from my jowls like a venomous vomit. Then, as I begin to shake, it turns to sobs.

My life is a lie. We were never alone. We were simply forgotten.

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