The city looked peaceful from the hill outside. People where going about their business as usual, giving the whole the appearance of an anthill. It was the organised chaos of normal activity in a war-torn world. Five megacorporations fought each other and occasionally remembered their true enemy, the enemy of mankind and all live, the Dark Legion. Finally they began to realise that this was not just a threat from old tales, but they did not yet understand the depth of depravity facing them.
There was one reason, why the forces of darkness had not yet overrun modern humanity, a mixture of natural components, genetic and cybernetic manipulations. It was the Brotherhood, the warriors of Light, the bringers of hope, who valiantly fought a loosing battle against the forces of Darkness. They desperately tried to unite the squabbling corporations as they did in the time of the venusian crusade, where the darkness had been beaten for the time being.
Arrogance had always been the fall of the mighty and it seemed to be time for another, an even more disastrous failure. The corporations had started to ignore the rules created by the first cardinal after the darkness had been defeated. Again the citadels of the Dark Legion began to appear everywhere in the system. These fortresses where almost impenetrable without a massive effort of arms and sorcery. The Banshee Queen and her troops had razed one, according to the tale aided by a large reptilian beast, maybe a dragon. It was hard to say, because not only history had become currupted by the darkness, the legends where also twisted. At least some of them.
Officially the city was run by free-lancers, but the appearance of the people hinted at a Mishima operation. People of Mishima usually had almond-shaped eyes and a slightly darker complexion than the average citizen of most other corporations. It could have been worse. Mishima was currently torn by an interior conflict, they currently concentrated their forces on the dark legion and secretly on each other. Since the Overlord, the ruler of the corporation, had died, some say naturally others hinted at darker things, but never in front of Mishima officers, his three children fought over his position. Officially nothing had happened and the organisation presented itself as strong and united as ever.
I had reached the outskirts of the city and walked into one of the side-lanes, seemingly preoccupied. My beautiful (or so I had been told too often not to believe it) and highly trained body was hidden beneath a normal set of clothes that did not identify any allegiance. My coat hid my twin swords and my gun. Years of intense training more years of fighting the Dark Legions had steeled my muscles to an edge most did not even dare to dream of. My strength was not particularly visible, because of a quirk of my birth, genetic or mystic manipulations. It did not really matter which one. Like all troopers living to an respectable age I had lightening reflexes.
A mamber of a street gang said: "Hey beauty, this is a dead end for you." I ignored the voice and concentrated on the background sounds. You cannot learn much more about what is going on by any other method then listening to and filtering the background sound. A dozen or so pair of feet tried to move silently, the people belonging to them sneaking up to me. I looked up to the unusually tall man and asked: "What is the point of just killing me?" The fact that I was not worried at all should have warned them, but most likely they thought I did not notice the beginners trying to surround me silently.
"Maybe", he said. "You do not understand your situation." There was a friendly smile on face, that people wore just before slitting your throat, after raping you of course. Not that it was a particularly good idea trying to do this to me, but I doubted they knew it. The man said gently: "You are surrounded, alone and unarmed." I did not even interrupt my steps and casually observed: "When you are talking about those six morons, you have a lot to learn." He stared at me in disbelief and said: "You are outnumbered more than ten to one." I surpressed a shrug and let the fools think they where at an advantage.
It was my job to face worse odds. In the fields of battle, where I fought the Dark Legion, thirty to one was the minimum and I remember situations where we where outnumbered sixty or eighty to one. Every single one of the troopers was most likely more dangerous than a gang member with little experience and training. The leader signed to his group and they leapt at me, trying to make it appear like an attack. Of course I was already out of the way, when they would have reached me, crashing into each other. One of them had stayed out of the fray and aimed a gun at my head. I took hold of the person's wrist and tossed the figure to the next wall, while I saw the flash of a knife.
I drew my sword and easily parried the attack, another stab glancing off the light armour I always wore beneath my clothes, just in case I got myself into trouble. With my free hand I drew my gun and aimed it at a cloaked figure behind one of the gang members. He stammered something I did not listen to and fired. The human was splattered with dark skin and a slimy fluid that was supposed to resemble blood. It could never do the job real blood did, but necromutants where not really alive.
The gang leader stared at another set of cloaked figures moving into the lane and cursed. He drew a violator blade and looked at the gang member I had carelessly tossed there. Another gang member said: "Bitch, you killed her." I returned the gaze of the leader, but he did not do anything. I thought there was a hint of expectation in his eyes. I walked to the lying figure. The impact with the wall had obviously broken several ribs, but she was still breathing. Even more amazingly she seemed to be conscious. I had underestimated the effect of my strength on humans again. I knelt and asked her gently: "Do you think your time has come?"
She turned her head left and then right, the best semblance of shaking her head she could manage in her weakened condition. "No", she groaned. I nodded and touched her sternum. I closed my eyes and focussed on the pool of light within me. Slowly the energy started to flow and fill me with joy and holy radiation. I kept the power for a few moments to focus it into a purpose and let the result flow into the other female. She should feel a pleasant tingle now, while her bones righted themselves and became whole, flesh knit and wounds both external and internal closed. In an almost toneless voice that would not carry far, she said: "We have problems for some time. It was time the Brotherhood sent someone to investigate and take care of the problem.
Another pair of heavy boots marched over the ground, followed by the shuffling sounds of walking dead. I turned took aim and fired at the necromutant's head in a single fluid movement. I sheathed my sword and helped the other woman to her feet. I asked: "Do you have a heavy weapon? Usually there are at least five times as many where those undead came from." She nodded and I thought I heard her sigh as she ran to a pile of junk, moving without a sound. I followed her silently and said gently: "You will make a good mortificator." She smiled and said: "Maybe I am already more than that. One day I want to be a great Assassini hero like Xira Zarstar."
I smiled at her and said: "You are almost as optimistic as me." She moved a few heavy pieces of metal and a bloodstained blanket away to reveal a machine gun. She positioned herself behind the gun and readied it to fire, when she stiffened, fighting a twisted influence. The second time today I reached for the light and let it flow into the other female, this time focussed to shield her mind from the nefarious influence. When the shield was complete she relaxed and aimed the gun at the undead, flashing me a thankful smile. Now the dead where taking command from the other gang members, heretics all of them. "We hoped they would notice the error of their ways with a little guidance."
She was a good deal like me, when I was younger. The gun began to rattle, empty shells spilling all over the ground, while the bullets shattered the bones of walking dead and disintegrated living bodies into bloody piles of slime. It was a nimrod produced by the factories of Bauhaus, the most powerful automatic weapon known on the worlds and the top quality that this corporation was famed for. I said gently: "I will take care of the nefarite. Do not worry about me. I am supposed to do this." While the woman reloaded the gun with a new belt of bullets, she nodded her acknowledgement.
I became one with the shadows the way I had learned long ago. Since this alley was a place of shadows I was invisible for anyone else. I raced across the road along the wall and drew my blades. I heard one of the heretics say: "Typical brotherhood coward. Claim they are the Light and turn tail when it gets close." I heard something else I was not supposed to hear: "Take her mind. We need this weapon." I had reached the creature and stabbed my twin swords right through his back with the force of my charge and withdrew one. I leapt upwards and stabbed again, at the same time slashing with my other sword. The head flew away and I drew the second blade out of the wound and dropped to the floor.
The falling corpse had to dramatically highlight my show, moving between his personal guard of necromutants with dancing grace and killing them with my twin swords crackling with white energy. Obviously the heretics where more than a little unnerved by my display, at least those of them not splattered over the floor and walls by the nimrod. Still they refused to give in, trusting in the relentlessness of their undead allies and their seemingly inexhaustible supply of reinforcements.
Before even hearing anything, I felt the presence of powerful dark troopers and started to run into their direction. Nerve-wracking screams hurt my ears and would have turned lesser warriors to flee in panic. A pair of pretorian stalkers landed on the road, leaving their hiding places in the ruins of nearby buildings. One was armed with a Scythe of Semai, a machine gun flame thrower combination plus a nasty grenade launcher. The other stalker held a nazgaroth, the heaviest weapon of the Dark Legion. Both wielded their weapons with great ease, being as large and strong as lesser giants.
As soon as they saw me, they fired, but the bullets hit only the ground, striking sparks from the stone. I ran at full speed and they could for some reason not gain their bearings on me. I hit one with a sword, whirled and struck the other stalker with my second blade. One of them was confused and I exploited the time. Both blades crossed into the breast of the stalker and cut deep into its innards, passing armour and foul flesh as though it was only butter.
I leapt at the other stalker with blades leading and impaled the thing, before it could aim its heavy gun at me. Still the thing would not die, too stubborn to give in. I pulled my weapon out of the monster with some effort and whirled another time to avoid its flailing arms. A hit crushed my into its unyielding armour and blew the wind out of my lungs. The creature trashed violently while I struggled for breath. I had to hold on the armour of the creature or be crushed into the wall with more force than either armour or body could stand. I dug my hands into the steel at the same time feeling myself loosing the hold as my muscles ached for the breath I could barely draw.
I was violently tossed against the creature several times, each time nearer to losing my hold. One of my blades dropped to the floor. A moment he paused, surprised that a mere human could have my strength. A moment he should not have given me. I finally got my deep breath and let my sword arc downwards on his head. I hung onto the sword with both hands and it cut through half of his body, almost splitting him into half. The neck and spine where trashed, but for some reason the sword kept stuck in the wound.
Cursing Algaroth's name, I held on and pulled myself up on the sword handle to plant my feet into the armour. Then the blade suddenly gave away. I curled myself up into a ball and flipped several time to land on my armour that would brace most of my impact. Pain surged through my left shoulder and I almost lost the sword. I rolled another time and finally managed to get to my feet. I saw the blade I had lost, jumped for it, rolled another time and stood trying to ignore the pain. It took me a moment of concentration to banish the feeling of pain from my consciousness, as giving in to pain meant death or a a fate worse than that.
One stalker was left, still stumbling forward. He had scattered necromutants with his nazgaroth, unable to aim his weapon at the leader of the gang, who fought heretics and undead legionaires with his two-handed sword. Soon the monster would get him. With a scream of defiance I stabbed my blades into the creature's back and quickly caused a vicious cross wound and withdrew my blades. I pivoted once to gain momentum and kicked the creature's back. Still not comprehending it had lost, the monster stumbled another step forward and finally collapsed, the heavy impact shaking the ground.
With the large and tough monsters gone, I finally had time to calm my breath, as I was still panting. A new group of undead charged into the fray, this time led by a dark centurion. They where tougher than necromutants and I did not have the time to reach it before it was too late. I drew my retributor gun and fired until the thing collapsed. The undead stood there, doing nothing and where shattered by the heavy gun, that had amazingly still not run out of ammunition. I holstered my gun and drew my second blade again, slowly walking to the place where the undead had been.
Only one of the would-be dark heretics was still alive. The gang leader tried to decapitate him, but I stayed his hand. I took hold of the other man's collar. He only stared at me, not even trying to struggle, having seen me fight. "What do you want?", he screamed. I forced him to watch the carnage, especially the necromutants, transformed prisoners and "volunteers". "Look at these monsters", I said. "This is what you are fighting for, what you want to become? Do you want these abominations overrun all of us?" He went completely limp and I gently made him sit down. "No-one in their right mind supports the Dark Legion. They may outnumber us, but we make up in skill."
The man collapsed, having endured to much. The warrior asked me: "Why did you leave him alive?" "I have sown the seeds of doubt in his mind. If he understands their meaning, he will seek out the next cathedral to have himself cleansed and maybe even join. If he returns to darkness, he will be killed. I have left a mystical mark on him, that he will always be seen as one of us by the dark symmetry, so we can be sure, that they will kill him. An undead legionaire might resemble him in some future battle, if chooses the wrong way." I shrugged and said: "One more or less does not matter a lot. We are always badly outnumbered. I think this time its worth their risk. He was not obsessed by the dark soul, he just looked for power the wrong way, but did not get any. I think he will see the truth."
Both, the "gang leader" and the woman, obviously his girl-friend looked at each other, than at me. "Looks like you saved our lives. A nepharite and two stalkers, that was more than I had ever expected." I nodded and said: "You know who I am. I wonder if you still want to go the way you have chosen." She nodded and said: "Yes. People like you give us hope." I agreed and looked at both of them. "I recommend to go to the next cathedral. If you have not already done so, you should join the Brotherhood." I turned to the man and said: "You can by a sacred warrior. Maybe you even live to become a member of the furies."
"If anyone there asks stupid questions, tell them that Xira Zarstar sent you", I said. The woman looked at me for some time, finally realising who I was. I ignored her gaze and said: "Read the chronicles, until you understand their meaning beyond the words. Never repeat, write or paraphrase anything of the chronicles. The penalty is death."
After that I turned around and went on, continuing my way to go where I was interrupted by this attack. They where earlier than we had expected. I could feel the two looking after me and then looking at each other. They started to talk, but I did not listen to their voices, staying fully alert. Those I had just encountered were not the only forces of the Dark Legion this city. After all I came here to fight their leaders and my guards where soon going to arrive. The fact, that I had two personal squads of furies elite guards assigned to me should say something about my position in the brotherhood.