Chapter 108

THE CULT OF ENTROPY

The barrier dropped.

Black smoke-like blasts erupted from the crowd beyond where the barrier had stood. The mass of mind-controlled civilians began marching forward with mechanical steps, their movements perfectly synchronized, but slow. Cultists moved among them, using the bodies as living shields while they channeled dark energy toward the defensive positions.

Alexander leaned forward and adjusted the waves of his Metallokinesis. The familiar pressure built around his body as he shot forward through the air. Annie squealed behind him as Droney coordinated the other drones, the formation scrambling to keep pace.

Below, Grimnir and the crew opened fire. Weapons set to stun cracked and hummed, sending bolts of energy into the advancing crowd. People dropped by the dozens, but more kept coming. The cultists stayed hidden behind their human shields, only emerging long enough to fire before ducking back into cover.

Alexander heard the electronic beep as Annie armed the first grenade. She hurled it into the crowd as they passed overhead. The canister tumbled end over end before detonating with a bright flash and a sharp crack. More people collapsed.

He slowed his forward momentum, turning to fly above the crowd instead of immediately heading for the city, giving her time to work. Annie threw grenade after grenade, each one landing amongst the crowd. The drones adjusted their flight path, following Alexander and compensating for Annie’s movements, keeping her stable despite the shifting weight distribution.

Black energy streaked past them. The cultists had spotted them.

Alexander wove to the side as another blast cut through where they’d been a moment before. A third shot came closer, close enough that he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He poured more power into the Metallokinesis, reaching to pull the drones with him, and feeling the strain as he pushed his speed higher. The park blurred beneath them. Trees became green streaks. The defensive positions vanished behind them as they rocketed toward the city center.

Buildings rose on either side. Alexander pulled up slightly, keeping them above most of the roofs but low enough to have some cover from the taller structures. The city spread out before them, and somewhere ahead, the ritual continued.

***

The sounds of battle were nothing new to Augustus. Even if he had thought this part of his life long behind him.

He strode between the defensive lines with experienced calm, his wand moving through quick, efficient patterns. Shields flickered and solidified across the armor plate barriers as he refreshed them. His personal drone darted through the air between him and the oncoming cultists, its own shield absorbing the occasional blast of black energy.

The cultists’ attacks caught his attention immediately. The dark energy didn’t dissipate on contact the way normal ranged attacks did. Instead, it smeared across whatever surface it hit, clinging like tar before eating through the material beneath. Metal, energy shields... it consumed everything with the same urgent hunger.

Augustus raised his free hand. The spell book materialized above his palm, floating at eye level as it flipped open. The pages rustled past rune after rune.

Amplify. That would make the shields stronger, but strength alone wouldn’t solve the problem.

Stabilize. Possible, but the corrosive effect might still eat through given enough time.

The pages flickered back and forth between options. Then Echo appeared, and the movement stopped. The page snapped into place.

He locked the choice in and began recasting shields across the defensive position as quickly as his wand could move. Each shield formed in layers now. The primary barrier shimmered into existence first, then a second, weaker duplicate materialized just beneath it. The echo wouldn’t hold as much power as the original, but against these attacks, having two barriers to eat through might be the difference between life and death.

The second defensive line extended wider than the first, staggered back so that no one would risk shooting over the heads of the forward defenders. A gap ran down the middle, wide enough for people to retreat through if the front position became untenable.

A scream tore through the air.

Augustus turned. One of the crew, a technician whose name he hadn’t learned, stood frozen at the forward line. The man had raised his head too high above the barrier. Black smoke clung to his face where the blast had struck.

The technician fell backward, hands clawing at his features. His screams cut off abruptly as the rot reached his throat. By the time he hit the ground, his face had dissolved into a skull wrapped in decaying tissue.

The defenders nearest to the body flinched. Augustus saw the line beginning to waver.

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He raised his voice to carry across the position. “Maintain your positions! Keep your heads down. Sight over the barrier, fire, then duck back down. Don’t expose yourselves any longer than necessary!”

The wavering stopped. People steadied. Augustus moved forward, checking shields and reinforcing where needed.

Between refreshes, he took in the rest of the defensive line. Carmen fought alongside her crew, positioned front and center where a good leader belonged. Krrsh’s multiple limbs stretched across the forward positions, passing fresh energy magazines down the line with mechanical efficiency. One of the alien’s tentacles suddenly jerked as black smoke grazed it. The rot began spreading immediately. Without hesitation, Krrsh grabbed a knife with another limb and severed the infected tentacle. The alien continued working with the remaining arms as if nothing had happened.

Behind the second line, Gilly struggled to maintain his grip on a rifle. The weapons hadn’t been designed for webbed hands, and the enchanted plates welded to the barrels made the grip even more awkward. The alien kept firing anyway, frustration evident in every awkward movement.

Spencer sat with his back against one of the barriers, eyes closed. Every few seconds, he reached his pistol up and over the top without looking. Each blind shot cracked out, and each one found a target. Always a cultist. Never a civilian.

A pained grunt drew Augustus’s attention. Davis, the gunnery officer, had ducked behind cover. The man clutched his wrist, three fingers already blackening with rot.

A black and white blur shot past Augustus. Felix landed on Davis in cat form, small body beginning to glow with soft white light. The rot slowed its advance. Struggled. Then began to reverse, creeping backward as new flesh started growing over the damaged tissue. Davis gritted his teeth, groaning through the pain, but held still while the healing took effect.

Augustus turned his attention back to the battlefield. He refreshed another shield, then flicked his wand toward the advancing crowd. Lightning erupted from the tip, tearing across the mass of people in a wide arc. Several civilians dropped, stunned by the blast. The cultist he’d been aiming for dodged away from the falling bodies, the lightning fading before it reached him.

Then an energy bolt split the air down the gap Augustus had just created. It caught the cultist square in the chest. The robed figure crumpled without a sound.

Augustus glanced up toward the ship’s ramp. Talia crouched behind a stack of supply crates near the top, her rifle braced against her shoulder. She had a clear view of the entire battlefield from that elevated position. She caught his eye and gave a brief nod.

He returned it.

Black smoke slammed into the crate she’d been using for cover. The material began dissolving immediately. Talia shifted smoothly to another position, already sighting her next target.

Augustus turned back to the line and began recharging shields again. The battle was far from over.

***

Ledia floated in the center of the ritual circle, arms spread wide as power flowed through her body in waves. The energy tasted of endings. Beautiful, inevitable endings.

Below her, the circle pulsed with gathered life. Two hundred people lay bound in the formation, their bodies forming the lines and curves of the grand working. Channels carved into the stone plaza caught the blood that seeped from shallow cuts across their arms and legs. The red liquid flowed along the grooves, feeding the ritual with their slow deaths.

Her six most loyal followers stood at equidistant points around her, hands raised in harmony. Their chants resonated through the air, maintaining the ritual she’d hastily assembled over the past two days. They would survive what came next. They had earned that privilege through years of devotion.

Those watching from the rooftops had not.

Ledia allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. Fifty-three followers ringed the ritual site, perched on the buildings that overlooked the plaza. They thought they were witnesses to her triumph. Guards against interruption. They had no idea they were the second component.

When the ritual completed its first phase, their life force would feed the second wave that would eventually consume everything around them. City 14 would become a lifeless monument to entropy, and she would emerge from the center wreathed in strength enough to challenge even High Priest Stavik for his position.

The thought brought a smile to her weathered face. Stavik thought himself untouchable. He had grown complacent in his power, forgotten that entropy demanded constant motion. Stagnation was the enemy. She would remind him.

Gray hair whipped around her face as the wind picked up. The ritual was accelerating. She could feel the city dying around them, its life force draining into the working. This had been one of the last populated settlements on the planet. Most of the cattle had already been consumed in rituals like this one, their deaths fueling the ascension of the worthy.

Soon there would be nothing left to harvest.

But the System had provided. The invasion quest had appeared in her vision two days ago, promising a new world beyond the portal. A world full of fresh sacrifices. Billions of them, ripe for the reaping. The thought filled her with joy.

This ritual would be her gateway. Once she consumed City 14 and the ship that had brought the defenders, she would have the power to lead the invasion herself. No more serving under Stavik. No more waiting for scraps of authority.

The civilians below had stopped struggling. Most had fallen unconscious from blood loss. A few still twitched weakly against their bonds, but their resistance was meaningless. They had been born cattle. They would die as fuel. That was the natural order.

Entropy came for everything eventually. The cultists simply had the wisdom to ride that wave, to grow strong on the decay of lesser things. The System rewarded those who understood this truth. Power flowed to those willing to embrace the ending of all things.

Ledia checked the ritual’s progress. The energy had reached critical mass. Perhaps three more minutes until the second phase started. The life force of two hundred cattle, combined with the fifty-three witnesses and the ambient death of the dying city, would create a surge of power that would sweep across the city and kill everything that still lived, each life extinguished delivering even more power to the center of the ritual, to her.

Then the real work would begin. A new reality to harvest. Billions to fuel her ascent.

She threw her head back and laughed. The sound echoed across the plaza, mingling with the chants of her followers and the soft moans of the dying.

This was glory. This was entropy made manifest.

The power built higher. The circle blazed with black fire.

Three minutes until her Ascension. Three minutes until she had everything she desired.