rapidly closed in on the green slopes of the hill with a lone female figure. Ananizarte! I felt chills down my spine. I recognized her proud stature, the head full of black hair, the strange armor in which shadows were interwoven with tongues of flame. Nobody was standing next to her; the goddess had gotten there ahead of her troops. At that moment, she was coldly studying the city sprawling far below, her hands crossed on her chest. We were among the thousands of ants scurrying under her stare.

All of a sudden, she stretched her hands, and an evil smile appeared on her face. A speck of blinding light sparkled in the air, like a mirror catching and reflecting a sunbeam. I knew what it was, as I had seen it once before — Ananizarte had bared Raghel, her invisible blade. A ring of crimson fire expanding every second surrounded the goddess. Writhing silhouettes engulfed in flames emerged from invisibility all around her. The goddess swung wide with her unseen blade, and the elusive speck flashed once again, momentarily outlining a crescent sword rapidly growing in size. It struck the players who had managed to evade the fiery ring, their bodies appearing out of thin air, cleaved apart. Everything sparkled and glowed, like the blades of a monstrous propeller, and the green grass turned dark with blood. Ananizarte’s invisible blade hit everyone, extending to dozens of feet. The stealth team around her was exterminated in half a minute.

The last thing we saw before the final flash of crimson fire broke the broadcast was the goddess looking straight into the scout’s camera and slowly beckoning to us with her hand.

 Interlude: Pandorum

IN THE SCARLET DEPTHS of the Astral Plane, above the black gothic citadel, four juggernauts hovered in the sky, chained to a shard of land with monstrous chains. They were the biggest and most powerful ships in all of Sphere, the pinnacle of prowess and technology of the Forgeworlds. Those colossi were the core of the squadron that also included many smaller ships that surrounded them from all sides, forming a large globe.

One of them carried a group of players, the alliance leadership who watched the broadcast where black hordes led by the Goddess of Darkness approached a large coastal city. One of them stood up tall and walked to the railing, looking at the ships teeming with people and the swarms of dragon riders dashing around them. Words needed to be said.

Half a minute later, another broadcast started on the main alliance channel. Against a black banner with a spider trampling a sphere, the warriors of Pandorum saw the thin, rugged face of Phantom.

“Hello, guys! I’d like to say a few words before the battle. You know I prefer to speak the language of naval ordnance, but today’s special. Many don’t even know why we’ve gathered here.”

“I’ll start with the bad stuff. Recently, we’ve suffered losses, both in reputation and finances. Sad but true. Various losers have started talking shit that we’re not unbeatable anymore. Today we’ll prove them wrong.”

“All of you are the strongest warriors in Sphere of Worlds. I know that, you know that, and they know that. We won’t speak with the enemy anymore. It’s time for our weapons to start talking. Let’s teach them a lesson of fear, crush the losers flat so everyone will forget about ever challenging Pandorum!”

The image changed, and Phantom’s face was replaced by the map of one of the game worlds, a huge green continent almost divided in half by a narrow strait.

“See this world? Many of you recognize it — this is Dorsa. It’s pretty, with a nice climate, and rich with resources, instances, and deposits. A choice piece too big for those capable of gathering only a few thousand people. We decided to take it for ourselves. And this is where we’ll start...”

Chapter 2

WHEN THE BROADCAST stopped with the death of the last scout, someone on the bridge laughed nervously. Then everyone spoke at once.

“Don’t panic. It was a test. How long did it last? Have you clocked that?”

“Less than a minute. Forty-seven seconds.”

“...our data?”

“Yes, same as in your battle logs against her, Komtur. Just as we expected.”

“Mixed weapon damage, completely ignores physical defense, one-shots up to ten thousand hit points. Works everywhere, including the Shadow Plane. Range is unknown, roughly up to one hundred and fifty feet. Solution: don’t come close to her.”

“Or keep sending cannon fodder against her, not giving her a respite.”

“Yes, that’s an option. But don’t forget about her ranged attacks; they’re dangerous, too. Crimson Fire burns everything, even magic. Mass Summoning is also possible, but we’re ready for that. We have two special groups with maxed-out resistance values for this occasion.”

“...fast is the mana regen?”

“Who knows? She resisted all identification spells. Four parties will be on her, all in epic gear with special items — Warlocks, Black Healers, Witches...”

“So how about we start attempt number one? Let’s try it! We have fifteen raids in total; we should crush her like a fly. The Silvers, Goethia, and Chaos will block Tao and Baghir and protect the flanks. Northerners, your task is cutting her off from the main force. Cover us from the air and distract the NPCs. Don’t go all out; your DPS might come in handy. Horde, Gorgons, newbie militia — clinch the enemy. We’ll attack her.”

* * *

Evil Mook: Wake up! Mount the birdies. Everyone, assist your leaders and fly up to the ceiling! Damian, Goldie, Carat — have your healers use the following priority: raid leaders, you, the support team. Don’t die, people!

 

The ceiling was the maximum height you could reach in Sphere, just above the clouds. The game didn’t allow you to rise any higher. Usually, it was used by flying ships; birdies rarely reached such altitude, as it took too much

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