There was enough “charge” in it to turn Alamir into a crater seventeen times over. Enough energy to be compared with a meteorite slamming against the city from the Great Beyond. She expected the immediate destruction of everything and everyone around her.
She did not expect, to still be standing after he pushed the button.
“Slow.” Came the teenager’s words. Dreadfully, Cynthia opened her eyes.
There, within his palm, was an anomaly that made her choke. She’d heard of it, of course, the rumors were endless, but seeing it, seeing the inexplicable curvature that seemed to suck in light around it like a vacuum sitting in the palm of the boy’s hands and somehow not utterly devastating the room around them made her choke.
The anomaly vanished. The explosive along with it. Hoplite, for the first time since she had seen him, did not have his eyes lidded anymore. “Your weapons are too weak, Soph.”
“Curious. You never possessed a problem with the destructive capability of my designs before now.” Sophos said.
“Before now, there was no reason to have a problem with it.”
Cynthia was trying her best to appear as nonchalant as her master. She was failing. She did not know if her master was aware all along that the explosive could be mitigated by Hoplite, but most likely he was. Her master did not make mistakes. Nothing her master did was without reason – without planning.
“Perplexing,” her master commented. “And the cause of this change?”
Two words escaped from the boy’s lips that neither she nor her master were prepared for.
“A Nightwitch.”
/∞/
In the brief six months of being the High Eminent of Progress’ amanuensis, Cynthia could count on one hand the number of times she had seen Sophos leave the Eminency of Progress and his laboratory. The number of times he left the building without it being a direct order from the votes garnered at The Gathering, she could count on one finger. That number was one, and the day –
Today.
There was almost a wild frenzy in the manner by which he left. Ordering her to carry his tools and toss them into a portable dimensional storage unit, colloquially termed by the average AAA soldier as the “Bag of Holding,” they made use of the exclusive High Eminent teleportation circle to get from Alhamis to the outskirts of the Disremember Woods without the slightest delay.
Trying her best to keep up with the rush of information and the speed of the two High Eminents on nothing but her two feet was a task that almost killed her. However, now being aware of her master’s proclivity to change amanuenses like undergarments, she knew that failing to keep up would certainly kill her, and that was a motivation to keep moving.
Leaving behind the fort and rushing through the forest, they were but a blur to the numerous AAA guards stationed along the path. There was no surprise that Hoplite did not take the Nightwitch into custody within Sector One-Zero-One. It was a training facility for rookie AAA soldiers. The potential for disaster would be intense. Rather, keeping her in an off-site location in the Disremember Woods was the only way to avoid subtle mental manipulations.
Hoplite’s conversation with her master was stretching out and she did her best to listen to it. “…regenerated every single time.”
“Decapitation? Asphyxiation? Complete and utter cellular disintegration?”
Hoplite conjured a document from his portable dimensional storage, his PDS unit, and handed it over to her master. Her master glanced it over for a brief second and did not hesitate to hand it to her.
“Cynthia. Assimilate the contents into your Godscripts and feed me the most relevant data.”
Forcing herself to stop breathing hard from chasing the High Eminents, she held out the document in front of her. Downloading the data off it took a meager second.
“Results of Encounter with Subject NW-four-zero-one. Subject, Nightwitch of Druid Origins. Name: Zlosta Janje. Anathema Patron: Unknown. Convent: Unknown. Faction: Unknown. Estimated Threat Level: Tier 4.1.”
She took a deep breath. “Notes: NW401 has shown a level of regenerative growth unheard of for a Nightwitch. NW401 has refused to converse with interrogators and failed to identify her Convent of Origin, and/or Patron. As NW401 is a Nightwitch of unknown Convent, protocol indicates immediate extermination of the potential threat to Alhamis’ safety. The protocol could not be carried out. Numerous methods of eliminating the subject have been attempted, none with any level of success.”
Cynthia knew her stomach was not going to be well after this.
“Attempt one-point-one. Decapitation. Result: The Head and Body of NW401 were pulled together by an inexplicable force, neck and spine reconnecting, and NW401 regained immediate consciousness. Verdict: Failure.”
Sophos urged her. “Continue.”
“Attempt one-point-two. Decapitation and Separation. Result: the severed spine of NW401 grew into a new skull. Pieces of torn flesh assimilated and changed into gray matter and other soft-tissues. The previous head kept away from the body disintegrated into dust, and the dust, into mystic particles. Verdict: Failure.”
“Attempt two. Asphyxiation. Result: NW401 consistently entered a comatose state upon deprivation of oxygen. The reapplication of the barest amount of oxygen would counteract this state. Verdict: Failure.”
“Attempt two-point-two. Extended Asphyxiation. Result: NW401 grew increasingly resistant to deprivation of oxygen. NW401 no longer becomes comatose from its deprivation. Verdict: Failure.”
“Attempt three-point-one. Incineration. Result: NW401 displayed rapid complete restoration of burned tissue without visibility of scars or scar tissue. Verdict: Failure.”
“Challenging. Skip the results and merely tell me the attempt.”
Cynthia, with an even larger breath, read.
“Attempt three-point-two. Prolonged Incineration.”
“Attempt four-point-one. Bifurcation.”
“Attempt four-point-two. Bifurcation and separation.”
“Attempt five-point-one. Dissection.”
“Attempt five-point-one: Dissection and separation.”
“Attempt five-point-two: Dissection, separation and incineration.”
“Attempt six-point-one. Pulverization.”
“Six-point-two. Pulverization and acidification.”
“Seven-point-one –”
The more she read, the more she grew concerned. The more she understood her Master’s reason for charging out here suddenly, the more she understood Hoplite’s reason
