“I’ll start the attack on the southwest, but I’ll pull them toward the south gate to get more of them involved,” I said. “We’ll put our weapons on bullet-mode to piss them off, first, then pulverize as many as we can. They’ll go into a panic and call for backup. By the time you guys are setting the charges, this entire south wing will be popping!”
“The Draenir should keep their weapons in pulverizer-mode and not risk it, though,” Kallisto said, giving Wallah and his crew a sideways glance. “We don’t want them dying out here.”
I nodded in agreement, then pointed a finger at Wallah, who was barely visible under his leafy cover. “You heard her, right? Don’t be cheap with the ammo. Fire at will. We didn’t milk those devil-vipers to be conservative with our firepower in the face of danger,” I said.
Araquiel shook my hand, giving me a stern look. “Thank you for everything,” he murmured.
“You say that as if this will be the last time we see each other. Don’t be an oaf. Get out of this place alive, dude. I’ve yet to kick your ass in close combat, and I’m itching for a rematch,” I said with a smirk. I looked at Nathaniel. “You all be careful in there, okay? We’ve got a lot more work after this. Once this place goes down, the fae will be coming in. They’ll need our protection.”
“You can count on us. We’ll see you soon,” Nathaniel replied.
Araquiel guided them toward the western entrance, darting through the jungle like swift breezes, unseen and unheard by the Perfect guards in the area. I turned to face Kallisto and my rogue Faulties, gripping my pulverizer weapon.
“Okay. Let’s go annoy some Perfects, then,” I quipped. “Morfuris.”
A second later, I was visible again. I took the lead and headed toward the southwest entrance. Behind me, the Faulties whispered, “Morfuris,” and revealed themselves. The Draenir stayed close, moving bushes that flanked us as we made our way through the lush jungle.
I loved this place, and I looked forward to liberating it. This world needed a good cleansing, and I was more than happy to deliver it. What made me even happier was spotting Jakkhiel in charge of the southwest gate guardians.
I put my arms out, prompting my people to come to a sudden halt. I narrowed my eyes and quickly analyzed the scene waiting for us, just a hundred feet away. Jakkhiel and I had some unresolved issues, and I’d often dreamed of ripping his spine out if I got the chance.
“Kallisto, do you see the tall, blond-haired fella with a golden chest plate?” I asked quietly.
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll start a conversation with that bastard, while the rest of you fan out and prepare to engage,” I said.
I didn’t wait for her to reply. I knew she’d do as I asked. Instead, I sauntered through the woods, as if I’d just gone out for a walk. I was a Faulty, after all. I wasn’t cause for immediate concern. Not until they saw my weapon, at least.
Unsurprisingly, as I got closer to the southwest gate, Jakkhiel was the first to hear me and turn around to look at me. The instant frown on his face told me everything I needed to know. He remembered me, and he knew that he was in a world of pain if I got my hands on him.
“Look what the tide dragged in,” he called out, his voice echoing between the trees.
“For all the pain you caused me, all the torment and torture, did you really think I’d let you live in peace, Jerkiel?” I shouted, grinning like a hungry turquoise tiger, ready to devour its prey.
He pointed a clawed finger at me, the thirst for my blood glimmering in his eyes.
“It’s about time someone put you out of your misery,” he said.
I took another step forward and pointed my weapon at him. The color drained from his face as he realized what I was holding. I could almost taste his fear on the tip of my tongue.
“Tell you what, let’s talk about that after I fill you with holes,” I replied.
The other Perfects around me were tense, gripping their own weapons with such strength that their knuckles had turned white. They nearly broke down when they saw my rogue Faulties moving out and closing in around them, pointing their pulverizers at them. The atmosphere changed in a millisecond. The jungle went silent, as if anticipating the incoming carnage.
This had quickly turned into a whoever-shoots-first-gets-to-live kind of scenario. And it was my only opportunity to keep my word to Jakkhiel. Not that long ago, he’d nearly flayed me like a fish, purely for the fun of it. In my book, he was as cruel and as horrible as Abaddon. He didn’t deserve a fresh start. Nothing could be done to wipe away the murders and pain he’d left behind. Jakkhiel was evil.
Ta’Zan’s indoctrination had merely served to amplify that. I’d seen enough of these creatures to separate the decent from the monsters. And Jakkhiel was definitely a monster, begging for my bullets. Fortunately, I had plenty to spare.
Elonora
Kailani, Lumi, Corrine, and Ibrahim were huddled together, talking about the bilocation spell. From what I’d understood, they all needed to be perfectly in sync with each other while they performed the ritual. That meant four clear minds and peaceful hearts. The latter was tough, since Kailani carried the accidental deaths of four Draenir on her conscience.
Meanwhile, I stayed close to Hunter, Nevis, and the others in my crew, as we listened to Rose, Ben, Derek, and Sofia talk about the evacuation procedure. There were hundreds of us in this diamond dome, and we needed to leave as smoothly and as quietly as possible.
Isda and her Faulties were present, delivering food, water, and fresh blood in glass pitchers. She stayed close to our group, while the prisoners flanked us and obstructed the Perfect guards’ view. Those by the door seemed pretty jaded and bored, but the ones outside, stationed on the outer passageways affixed to the dome, liked to keep an eye on us.
“Isda, have you seen Amal and Amane?” Derek asked her.
“Yes. They’ve asked me to tell you that they have all the pieces they need for the memory wiper,” Isda replied. “They’re having trouble putting it together because Ta’Zan keeps giving them stuff to do. At first, he wanted Amal to prepare some daylight pills for you, for a stroll tomorrow morning. But now, he’s asked her to hurry up and get it done this afternoon. I think Ta’Zan has something to tell you, away from everyone else.”
Derek frowned. “That’s… odd, to say the least.”
“And not a good sign, given how much we’ve annoyed him so far,” I chimed in. “I doubt he has good intentions. Can you refuse his invitation for a… stroll? Is that what he calls it? A stroll?”
Isda gave me a soft nod, a smile flickering on her lips. “Yes. He sometimes takes Derek out in the sunlight. He thinks it’s a leisurely thing, as if he’s doing Derek a favor.”
“If you ask me, I think Ta’Zan is still trying to get my approval, somehow,” Derek replied. “He sees some kind of kindred spirit in me, as a leader over hybrids. He doesn’t understand the fundamental differences between us, but he does feel the need to talk to me about it.”
“Could we possibly use that to our advantage?” Rose asked.
“Maybe,” Derek said. He looked at Isda. “Do you know when he’s coming for me?”
“Not yet, but, after I’m done here, I’ll check,” Isda replied. “I saw Douma and Raphael, too. They’re okay and calm,” she added. “They’re collared and kept in individual glass boxes, with guards outside.”
“We’re getting them out, too, when it’s time to roll, right?” Dmitri interjected, his brows furrowed and his expression clearly saying he wasn’t leaving without Douma.
“I think Amal and Amane are best equipped to handle that,” Isda said.
