“Attempt seventeen-point-three. Molecular Destruction via Gravitational Force.” Cynthia grew incredibly uneasy at the final one on the list. “Result: NW401 was subjected to irresistible gravitational forces in the center of a man-made gravitational anomaly. NW401 was erased from existence. NW401 reappeared five minutes later, in the spot of erasure. Note: NW401 did not appear confused nor did NW401 attempt to flee. NW401 requested to be subjected to the forces a second time. When asked why NW401 responded: ‘[She] stopped hearing him laugh.’”
Cynthia felt as if she were chewing cement. “When questioned on the matter, NW401 did not provide any additional information. All extermination attempts have been terminated at this time. Individuals involved in conducting the extermination attempts have –”
She stopped reading. The words were there, floating in her vision, and she knew that if her delay was longer than three seconds, her master would be incensed.
“Individuals involved in conducting the extermination attempts have proceeded to meet their demise in the order and method of their attempted extermination.”
As one, she and her master turned immediately to look at Hoplite. His dull eyes never wavered. “NW401 Addendum document attached: Causalities of Encounter with NW401.”
“Causality One-Through-Nine. AAA Soldiers. Method of Attempted Extermination: Sacrosanct Rifle gunfire. Method of Demise: Abrupt appearance of gunfire holes. Remark: More holes than flesh generated difficulty in identifying what parts belonged to which Soldier.”
Her stomach was protesting. The images were not helping. Her Master’s analytic gaze did not stop the rising sensation of sickness.
“Causality Ten. Exterminator One. Ylde Alderbane. Method of Attempted Extermination: Decapitation. Method of Demise: Abrupt separation of head from his body. Remark: the severed head was destroyed to prevent continued attempts at the consumption of the body.”
“Causality Eleven. Exterminator Two. Birn Magnoli. Method of Attempted Extermination: Asphyxiation. Method of Demise: Asphyxiation. Remark: postmortem dissection exposed the lungs melded on the outskirts of the ribcage.”
“Causality Twelve –”
“Enough.” Came her master’s voice. Low. The lowest she had ever head. “Preventions?”
“Upon the realization of the proceeding method and manner of death following the Exterminators, Exterminators ten through sixteen committed suicide via Sacrosanct Rifle Fire to the temple. No unusual effect was witnessed on the bodies following their demise.”
Her master remained silent. He stared, again, for the longest time, at Hoplite. “Reclassification.”
“NW401 reclassified as Tier 9 Threat. Hazard Ranking: Extinction-Level. Isolation Protocols have been engaged. Anathema Hazard Protocols have been engaged. Discontinuity Advancement Protocols have been engaged. No personnel is authorized to approach NW401 without explicit instructions from a High-Eminent. No personnel is authorized to feed, communicate, exterminate, attempt to feed, communicate, exterminate, or contemplate feeding, communicating, or exterminating NW401 without explicit instructions from a High-Eminent.”
“Containment?”
“NW401 has been confined to a four-by-four anti-mystic cage, suspended in a portable dimensional storage unit with sufficient reminite power cells to last approximately ninety-four days.”
“Concerns.”
“As per Discontinuity Advancement Protocols, NW401’s indestructibility and the reciprocity of all attempts at destruction can theoretically spread to any nightmare she names, and/or any nightmares she comes into contact with.” Cynthia grimaced. “The worst-case scenario is the total invincibility of her minions, patrons, and followers, with the guaranteed death of those that attempt to kill them. This lifts NW401 to the Hazard-Ranking of Extinction-Level. Her continued existence possesses significant potential to lead to the elimination of all life on Alamir.”
“We’ve arrived.”
Cynthia managed to catch her breath as they arrived at their destination. NW401’s containment location. Two lieutenant ranked AAA officers stood in front of a small iron shed. She knew it was not made of mere iron. Coated and alloyed with reminite, the miracle element capable of absorbing and retaining mystic energy, or, as the graduates of the College of Mysticism and Mystic Arts would call it, mystic particles.
“Commander,” the guards saluted as one.
High Eminent Hoplite seemed blasé toward their greeting. “Has there been anything of note worth reporting in regards to the prisoner? Any abnormalities or anomalies?”
“No, sir.”
Hoplite nodded. “Very well.” He turned back to her master. “I do not have to explain to you why we’re not going to open it and let her out.”
Her master was quiet. It was odd, seeing him merely staring at his fellow High Eminent. Cynthia wondered what was going through his mind. She contemplated why High Eminent Hoplite needed to bring her master out here if they were not even going to see the Nightwitch. The only reason she could think of was foreboding
“Distressing.” Her master said. “You are going to die, Hoplite.”
The words shook her. She tried not to immediately lock her gaze on the boy, the fourteen-year-old. She failed. Hoplite did not try to deny the words. His blasé, half-lidded eyes seemed as careless as ever.
“Yes.” Hoplite said. “I was the one who tried to kill the Nightwitch last, so I am the last one scheduled to die.”
Cynthia’s heart started beating. She remembered the casualty reports. Each person died in some macabre, twisted, or exaggerated version of the same way they tried to kill NW401. High Eminent Hoplite attempted to kill her via the creation of his all-consuming gravity anomaly. That meant…
Dear Saint –
“You thorough fool.” Sophos cursed. Her master never cursed. “If a gravitational anomaly materializes and kills you, there will be no one to prevent it from destroying everything else.”
“True,” Hoplite said. “Perhaps a neutron star appears above my head. Perhaps gravity crushes everything on Alamir into the size of a plantain. Or perhaps it merely inverses and propels everything off the surface and into the Great Beyond. Different possibilities. I am almost curious.”
Dear Holy Saint –
“You–” Her master took a deep, sharp breath. “Allow me to understand, we have ninety-four days to kill an indestructible Nightwitch, or face potential annihilation?”
The High Eminent of War, Undisputed Master of Gravity, responded with a single word. “Yes.”
For the second time, her Master cursed.
“Also,” Hoplite continued. “There is another issue.”
She did not like the sounds of that. Neither did her master. The High Eminent
