But what he did see made his stomach clench.
A strangled millisecond held everyone in silence…and then all hell broke loose.
Reach—unperturbed by the sneak attack on his own teammate—arced his polearm toward Sol’s neck in a blistering attack.
Silver moved faster.
His hands clutched easily at the opposing Duelist’s weapon, his expression calm even as Reach grimaced, his arms trembling with tension.
Terry felt Hopper move next, her touch brushing across space, racing to open portals—not to send her enemies off the battlefield, but across their midsections, aiming to bisect them like a bad magician act.
Marlon and Terry reacted at the same moment, reaching across the distance to quench her portals before they could slice through flesh. He felt his efforts batted aside by the S-ranker, but he hopped right back into the fight with a dogged determination.
At the same moment Reach had struck, Necroton’s scythe screamed through the air toward Dancer’s neck in an eerie parallel of the fight between Reach and Silver. A bolt of pure lightning intercepted the blade, sending it off course.
Static’s aura began to charge for a second volley when the very stone reared up and enveloped his hands and feet, grounding him—both literally and metaphysically.
Sol and Lift went for the unclaimed Elemental Singularity at the same time, both taking flight to approach Qui Shen’s corpse. The air around Sol visibly wavered, dropping him from the sky just as a laser shot from his outstretched hand, searing Lift’s chest. The two of them rolled to the stone floor mere feet from each other. Sol was still injured from his fight with Qui Shen, slow to recover from his crash, while Lift clutched at her chest and gasped ragged breaths.
Purge flexed his Disruptor powers to cut Terraform off from his connection with the stone, but Terry’s mother intercepted with her own aura, dissipating the attack with a simple tug, like pulling the thread from a frayed sweater to unravel the whole thing.
There was no time to marvel at his mother’s skill—by his estimation, that all had accounted for the very first second of the fight. From there, he only managed to catch glimpses of the brawl as he turned his attention to aiding Marlon against Hopper and her A-ranked helper.
Light flared, bodies moved fast enough to break the sound barrier, aura tsunamied throughout the cavern, blades crashed against blades, and the very earth trembled beneath their feet.
Despite all that—somehow—Terry survived the opening salvo. Thankfully for the other lower ranked Awakened, they’d managed to flee through the portals before the violence had crescendoed.
Which made Terry wonder, what the hell am I doing here…?
But the truth of the matter was, he’d never even considered leaving. Fleeing the fight, leaving both his grandfathers and his mother to clean up the mess…it just wasn’t in his make up.
He’d never been in a fair fight—not in all his life. The draugr, a thousand sanguine, Savage—the odds hadn’t been in his favor, not once.
And yet, running away had never been an option in his mind. His family were fighters; it was in their genetics.
So he continued pushing beside Marlon, throwing whatever strength and skill he possessed against the experience and power of Hopper. The two of them were losing, their weaker auras slowly chipped away at by the superior S-ranker. But he consoled himself with the knowledge that she wasn’t portaling people in half in the meantime.
A moment happened, the fight shifting perceptibly. It was a moment Terry couldn’t follow blow-by-blow; it had all happened too fast for his eyes to follow. And yet, the instant it occurred, he somehow understood that the fight was over.
Silver must have ripped Reach’s polearm from his hands through brute strength. The Council Duelist went flying across the cavern to smash against the stone—which welcomed him like a tomb, sucking him in whole.
The polearm seemed to recognize Silver as the Duelist Prime and didn’t buck against its new, temporary owner. When Silver hefted it high, then launched it like a javelin, the sound of its passage ripped across Terry’s eardrums.
Its target was sent flying from the impact, ragdolling backward like he’d been struck by a semi-truck.
When Dancer finally stopped rolling, a weighty pause settled upon the fight, an unspoken armistice taking root.
Terry held his breath, five long, glacial seconds passing before someone spoke.
“R-retreat!” Hopper cried out. Her clothes were singed, her hair frayed, and her aura pulled in a dozen directions. But as she flexed her aura to open a portal, Terry and Marlon found her strength overwhelming.
They tried to shut her down anyway, but Silver waved a hand toward them and the others.
“Let them go.” His metallic skin glistened in the light of Sol’s magic, casting him as more golem than man. But the strength of his aura was undimmed, shining brighter than anything in the cavern. “Let them all go…except him.”
Every eye turned to follow Silver’s stabbing finger, dozens of heads swiveling to stare at Dancer as he strained against the polearm wedged in his chest.
Hopper blanched at the proclamation, meeting Dancer’s gaze for the briefest second before flinching away.
“Hop…per…” Dancer’s voice was wet, his lungs drowning in blood. A wracking cough shook him, crimson fluid spat onto the floor. “You…wou—” Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a second bout of coughs.
Hopper kept her eyes averted, looking toward Silver, Necroton, and finally, Terry’s mother.
“We-we were just doing what we were told—”
Silver moved so fast, Terry only knew it wasn’t teleportation because he didn’t pull on space. Hopper, on the other hand, clawed at space like a drowning victim. A flash from the Physical Singularity ripped apart her efforts with a brutal savagery, just as Silver’s hand gripped her throat.
His metal skin liquefied, sloughing away from his face like molten steel, revealing a face that made Hopper physically cry out in terror.
Even from a distance, Terry could see his grandfather’s snarl, his eyes pure silver, the killing intent splashing across his aura like blood in the water.
His voice was low, gravelly, yet audible throughout the cavern as if by some magic.
“The greatest atrocities of this world were committed by those ‘just doing what they were told.’”
For a moment, Terry felt—no, he knew—that Silver was going to decapitate Hopper with a flex of his hand. Then, the moment passed, his aura shifted, and he slowly unwound his grip from her throat.
Softly, he said, “Be better, Hopper.” He turned to look at each of the S-rankers in attendance, his eyes passing over Static, Lift, Purge, and Reach, who had been released from the stone by Terraform. “All of you, be better.”
His mother stepped forward, her aura just as bright beside her father.
“And if you can’t—” Her finger lifted toward Dancer. “—witness your fate.”
Her words settled upon them like the proclamation of a goddess, sending a shiver up Hopper’s back, while Lift and Purge shared a look that said, ‘what the hell did we get ourselves into?’
“Now go.” Silver released his grip on Hopper’s aura and she didn’t need to be told twice.
Two portals ripped into existence with a desperate energy—one leading back to Dallas, the other to Kansas City. The combatants fled through their respective portals, including Lady and the still breathing Bloodhound, who was carried through by his fireteam.
The remaining friendly forces gathered together as one.
There was Silver, Necroton, Sol, Terraform and his party, Marlon, Terry, his mother, and—
“Really rousing speech, Silver!” a voice echoed out from somewhere. “Inspiring!” Terry looked down to see the voice coming from inside Tinker’s lifeless power armor. “Now…can someone get me the fuck out of this tin can!”
For a moment, no one moved, stunned expressions on every face. Terry laughed at that, and his mother glanced over, a light smile forming.
As Silver reached down and began to liquefy Tinker’s power armor away, his mother walked over, biting her lip anxiously.
“Terry, I…there’s so much to say…”
He considered watching her flounder, letting her feel uncomfortable as some small punishment for the breach of trust that had encompassed most of his life. But he hadn’t realized until just this moment…he’d forgiven her.
She opened her mouth to say more, but she didn’t get a chance as his body collided with hers, his arms wrapping around her as tight as he could squeeze. A distant part of his mind marveled that he was now taller than her, her head pressed firmly against his chest.
“Ter—” Her voice caught and she tried to power through, but he shushed her, stroking her hair. The sobs took her then, and she squeezed tighter, clenching onto him as if to let go would mean death.
He remembered back to when the Knights of Sol had ambushed them, how her grip on his hand had ground the little bones together. Now, her squeeze didn’t faze him, and he just let himself enjoy the contact, resting his face against the top of her head. He wasn’t going to cry—didn’t feel it coming, didn’t need it. Then, the smell of her hair invaded his nostrils, bringing back so many memories in a rush that his defenses were overwhelmed, batted aside like nothing.
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Tears spilled from his eyes onto her hair and something clicked inside his chest, some weight retracting from his heart; a weight he hadn’t realized he’d been feeling until this very second. As his tears began to fall harder, the sobs took him too and he just squeezed his mother as tight as he could, hoping this moment would carry on forever.
He didn’t know how long they embraced like that before Silver cleared his throat. Terry’s head shot up in annoyance and that was when it hit him.
The unclaimed Elemental Singularity pulsed with a terrible wail on his soul, drowning him in its need to be heard.
Whether his mother had been saving him from the sensation or the raw need of their embrace had trumped the reality-bending power he now felt, he couldn’t be sure. But now that he did feel it, it was like a burr digging behind his eyes.
Slowly, his mother extricated herself from his arms, her pained expression mirroring his own childish want to pull her back in again. But in a flash, her face shifted, flowing into a steady, business-like expression.
Across the way, Dancer clutched at the polearm stuck deep in his chest. Wet, sucking breaths came erratically, the light in his eyes visibly dimming.
As Silver and his mother approached him, his pained expression turned panicked, his irises flitting about—for allies, salvation…anything.
Silver and his mother stood over Dancer now, just as a System message came in to Terry.
Dancer of New York has requested a private channel. Accept?
He stared at that notification for a split second, then accepted.
[Dancer]: Son, tell them to let me live! I’ll give up my Singularities! I’ll agree to whatever they want!
Terry read and reread that message, stunned silent for the moment. Then, he felt his other grandfather’s glance, knew that Necroton had received a similar message. He met his grandfather’s eyes; saw the unasked question there.
What do you want to do?
He considered that for a breath. What do I want to do? Somehow, deep down, he knew that if he pressed the issue, his mother and Silver would relent; knew that Necroton would back him. He didn’t know how, it was just a feeling deep in his gut.
But for some reason…he didn’t want to push for clemency, didn’t want them to pardon Dancer. There was an insidiousness to the man who had dominated the other S-rankers of North America, a rotten core that Terry didn’t think could ever be purged.
He didn’t know how Dancer could find a way to work against them—they would have six Singularities between their coalition, and a seventh once he called back the Metaphysical.
And yet, something told him that to spare Dancer would bring retribution down on them, someway or another.
With a shift of his head, he told the Emperor all of that and more.
His grandfather’s eyebrows flicked once in surprise, then he nodded in agreement.
Dancer didn’t miss the exchange—punctured lungs or not. Desperation lit across his face as he stirred his aura for one singular, explosive attack.
Before it could coalesce, Silver plucked Reach’s polearm from his chest and finished Dancer with a stab in the heart. The gathering aura slowed, turbid and lazy, before dissipating entirely. Dancer’s eyes lost their magic, dulled, then turned glassy.
The light fled them entirely as his body went slack.
Two echoing cries rang up from Dancer and a beat later, his Singularities slipped free from his flesh, rising into the air above him.
Without any indication, Terry knew instinctively which was the Mental Singularity and which was the Presence Singularity.
The three exposed Singularities created a rotating ripple of aura around the cavern, brushing across Terry’s senses, both distracting and intoxicating. He felt an unconscious pull toward them, but managed to clear his head with a quick shake.
Sol coughed into his fist and all eyes turned to him.
“I don’t mean to claim any of these,” he started. “Though the Elemental sings in my thoughts, I understand that we’re on the cusp of electing the Omega…” He hesitated as if embarrassed to continue.
“What is it, Uncle Sol?” his mother asked.
He glanced toward the Elemental Singularity, sighing deeply.
“I wish to reclaim my home.” His voice grew sturdier, full of a fire that had began to kindle once more as he had defied Qui Shen. “I wish to remove that blight infecting Topeka, once and for all.”
Terraform stepped forward, nodding heavily.
“You mean the Black Wall, don’t you? I’ll lend what expertise I have to help in anyway I can.”
“So will I,” his mother said. She turned toward Silver. “What’d you say, Dad? Kick the Council and SPC outta Topeka for good?”
Terry watched as a roguish smile touched Silver’s lips.
“Hell, Pen, my blood’s still pumpin’. Let’s go put those fuckers on notice.”
Sol, with the Elemental Singularity in his chest, flew high above Topeka, shining brighter than any star on the darkest night. All around the city, civilians and the Market refugees watched as he promised them freedom from the tyranny of the super elite, a refuge against the machinations of Dancer, the Council, and their ilk. He spoke of democracy, elected officials, and freedom from even his own power. He would be the guardian of that democracy, only acting in its interest.
He ended his speech by harnessing the Elemental Singularity, turning his power upon the Black Wall that blighted Topeka, running like a scar down its middle.
Wherever his light touched, the Wall began to lose its structural integrity. Pieces began to fall from the top, rushing to the ground below. As the giant blocks of the Wall were about to strike, Terraform stirred his element and caught the massive debris, reincorporating it with the earth.
Further down the structure, Silver smashed the Wall with his fists and pulses of the Material Singularity, while his mother used her aura to dissipate the magic holding it together. Tinker, in an earlier model of his power armor, floated around and dispersed nano bots that began to eat away at the Wall.
As for Necroton and Terry, they found James and Terry couldn’t resist the urge to throw himself into his father’s arms.
Thankfully for his dignity, he managed to keep any tears at bay.
When they separated, his father held him at arm’s length, eyeing him up and down.
“I only saw you a while ago, but you’re so…different. Older looking, more mature.”
Terry snorted, wiping at his chin.
“Must be the peach fuzz filling in.”
His dad smiled, but there was a seriousness to his eyes that sobered Terry up.
“I mean it, Ter. I haven’t heard the whole story yet, but from what I did hear…I’m so proud of you.”
Scratch that, the tears had decided they did want to come, after all.
He managed to shove them down after a few moments of effort and smiled back at his father.
“Thanks, Dad.”
James nodded, then looked over Terry’s shoulder at something. Terry turned to follow his gaze and caught his mother approaching from the air.
With a desperation in his voice that Terry had only ever heard twice, James cried out to her.
“Pen! Oh, my God! You’re alive!”
He crossed the hundred yards between them in superhuman fashion, dashing into her arms hard enough to send them both tumbling to the ground.
Terry watched his parents kiss and hug in a way that once would have made him beet red and wishing to be anywhere else in the entire universe.
Now…he simply smiled.
At his side, the Emperor spoke.
“Doubt her methods. Doubt his choices. But never doubt their love for you or each other. That’s more solid than the very earth we stand on.”
Terry side-eyed his grandfather in surprise, but couldn’t find fault in anything he said, even if he had plenty to fault in the man himself.
Before he could reply, a series of notifications scrolled into view.
Quest Complete: [Free Topeka]
Calculating reward…
One talent point awarded
Aura Projection: D7 → D9
Aura Control: D8 → D9
Aura Perception: D9 → C0
Presence Average: D8 → D9
New Quest Given: [Deny the Omega]
Prevent the Omega from forming.
Reward: A special item to aid you on your Midmark Quest.
He stared at that new Quest in disbelief. His mouth opened and shut as he instinctively went to ask his grandfather about it, then realized he couldn’t.
Beneath the Quest, a System Note populated as if the Weaver had doubted that he would buy in to its request.
System Note: Please trust me, Terry…
All around him, the cacophony of the Black Wall’s destruction rang in his ears. And yet, all he could think about were those last words by his System.
Please trust me, Terry…
A distant part of his mind realized his parents were in front of him, had said something to him—probably more than once. He shook his head, blinking a few times before his ears would process the words.
“Terry? Are you okay?” his mother asked, a look of concern on her face.
He raised his eyebrows, feigning an easy look.
“Yeah, fine, fine. Sorry, what were you saying?”
She studied him a moment longer as if trying to peer through any cracks in his facade. Not finding any, she seemed temporarily mollified.
“Sol said you somehow teleported the Metaphysical Singularity away.” A wry smile touched her lips. “Which you’re gonna have to explain to me at some point.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I can sense it roaming through the earth below. Your grandfather could go snag it, but it’d be simpler if you could bring it back…”
She trailed off and he realized his anxiety must have reappeared on his face.
He forced a smile on, waving away her still forming question.
“Yeah, easy peasy. Give me one second.”
He turned away so she wouldn’t see his face drop as his thoughts churned.
Deny the Omega…Why…
A part of him considered just ignoring the Quest—there didn’t appear to be any punishment if he did. And he didn’t think the Weaver would do that, anyway. It wasn’t like his mother’s System or even his father and grandfather’s. The Weaver hadn’t given him any reason to doubt or question it. The opposite, really. It had guided him toward the truth of his mother and her memory manipulation. It had led him to feeding Wichita and bringing light back to a besieged city.
All of this, Wichita, Topeka, the Market—it all seemed orchestrated by the Weaver on some level. His reunion with his mother, Sol’s recovery, and the Market’s residents surviving to make it to the surface.
Did any of that happen without the Weaver directing me?
Those thoughts coalesced into a decision. The evidence was just too overwhelming.
With a pull through their connection, he directed—no, asked, really—for the Singularity to return to him. He felt its answering cry and knew it was drawing on his aura to punch through space on a return path.
“It’s on the way back,” he said, turning to face his parents—and the other S-rankers, he realized.
At some point, they had finished tearing down the Black Wall and were all gathered now.
“Well, now comes the weird part,” Silver said with a chagrined smile. “Who’re we gonna pick to become the Omega?”
Necroton growled, rolling his eyes.
“We already know who it’s gonna be, you fool.”
Silver looked around in confusion, the unasked question obvious in his eyes.
“Not you!” Necroton practically yelled. His gaze turned to Terry’s mother expectantly.
Silver looked to his daughter, his eyes widening briefly before a smile touched his face.
“Can’t say I disagree.”
Sol nodded. “I’ve known Penelope since she was a baby. There’s no one I’d rather have as the Omega.”
Terry felt the Metaphysical Singularity approaching, their connection like a live wire on his mind. His anxiety seemed to edge higher the closer it neared, until he was barely listening.
“I’ve never met the White Rose before,” Terraform started. “But your reputation is second to none.” He smiled, nudging Terry. “And if your son is anything to go by, that reputation is well earned.”
Silver looked around for a moment before speaking.
“All opposed, say nay.” He waited a beat, but it was obvious no one was going to speak up. “All for, say aye.”
Necroton grunted in annoyance, but repeated it. Sol and Terraform followed a moment later. Silver threw out an echoing ‘aye’, full of cheer.
And then they looked toward Terry.
“Terry?” his mother asked. “Are you okay? You look sick.”
It was near—so damn near.
He shook his head, his eyes wide but staring at nothing.
“No, Mom…I’m not okay.”
She reached out, a look of concern on her face.
That was when the Singularity materialized in his hand. Waves of power rolled off it, echoing with its siblings inside the others standing nearby. He felt all eyes turn to it expectantly, waiting for him to hand it over.
He shoved it into his chest.
Pain seared him, radiating out like the spokes of a wheel, singeing his limbs, his arteries and veins, his eyeballs, the fingernails on his hands, until he thought he might black out.
With one last effort of will, he accepted his Midmark Quest.
“TERRY!” his mother cried.
He was falling. Silver rushed to catch him but even superhuman speed had limits.
Everything turned black for the briefest flash. Words seared across his vision.
Summons accepted.
…
Thank you for trusting me, Terry.
Then, sensation returned to his body, and along with it, the pain. The sound of howling filled his ears, the bitter, biting wind cutting at his skin. Cold tried to infect him, but was hounded by the warmth of the Singularity in his chest.
Another notification came in then, chilling him to the bone despite that warmth.
Welcome to the Underworld…
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