So what were our forces going to do next? On the one hand, frantic looting and hauling out Pandorum’s assets implied that they didn’t expect to hold the fortress. On the other, the fleet and more and more players kept assembling around the stronghold.
“Cat! There you are! Let’s go; the meeting’s downstairs!”
I saw the familiar halls and corridors, stairways leading below. My clanmates kept fussing around, doing weird manipulations. Upon a closer look, I realized that they were setting mechanical and magical traps designed to slow down any enemy movement. Apparently, the counterattack was supposed to start underground at the respawn circle. It was a real double-edged sword, a mixed blessing. It led everyone who died in the Astral Plane to Atrocity, making them the Pandas’ prey. However, it was also the Achilles’ heel of their citadel, as any outsider could get inside their castle. The former owners had perfected all possible scenarios of meeting their guests. Could our warriors repeat that success?
In any case, they were preparing, barricading the corridors, building firing positions, installing traps, and casting defensive spells. When I entered the respawn hall, work was in full swing. The Pandas hadn’t restored the cage around the resp point, first destroyed by me, then Ananizarte, and finally, Mook’s raid. Instead, our guys covered the room with an antimagic zone, having brought in some mysterious artifacts. Four huge castle golems barely fitting the space stood frozen around the circle. I carefully walked around it, listening to our leaders speak on the channel I had just joined.
Komtur: The Pandas have woken up. They’re gathering.
Olaf: Yeah, assembling allies. Around two hundred ships so far. Four and a half thousand players online, but they’ll bring in more...
Captain Panther: Phantom sent me a black mark a couple of hours ago. They know everything and are going to retaliate.
Komtur: What mark?
Captain Panther: A letter. Three words: ”You are dead.”
Komtur: Be careful. They might snap.
Captain Panther: I have everything under control.
The respawn looked generic. Each territory had one just like that: a round stone plane thirty feet in diameter with an elaborate ornament along the edge. Romanova had told me that the Pandas had found it somewhere in the Astral Plane. I imagined it hovering in the endless pink mist, a trail of stone debris swirling around it, while a Pandorum seeker circled it on a protodragon, unable to believe his eyes... How had they hauled it there, to the deepest level beneath the citadel? It was too big to fit through the door or the corridor. Even lifting it required magic or special mechanisms.
Olaf: Cat! Look, your task is to help in holding them back in this passage.
HotCat: Why not simply remove this resp circle from here?
Olaf: What a great idea! Just remove it... Maybe you could tell us how? It’s impossible without destroying the castle. It feels as if they built it around the resp point in the first place.
I let out a slight smile, enjoying the Prophet’s sarcastic tone. Ironically, the solution to the problem might really lie in plain sight.
HotCat: Maybe I will, but first, try gauging your budget.
Olaf: Meaning?
HotCat: Literally. How much are you prepared to pay for solving this problem?
* * *
Several hours later
We were waiting, and Pandorum came. The alarm found us in one of the citadel’s watchtowers. Scout reports poured in as they kept scanning the area around us with Search.
“Attention! A large fleet is approaching!”
Dozens of Astral Portals opened in the skies. Their scouts had done their job well, leading them out a bit away from Atrocity, outside the range of castle artillery. The ships emerged one after another: an armada of sails bristling with thousands of weapons. Their numbers were impressive — it felt as if they were beyond count. The colossal juggernauts came last, sending shockwaves through the Astral Plane. This time, the Pandas hadn’t left them on standby, throwing in everything they had.
They had come to get their home back.
There were some surprises, too. Captain Panther, who was standing a few steps away from me, suddenly keeled over and collapsed like a rag doll. We hurried to help him up, but the frozen character didn’t react. It seemed as if he had suddenly and without warning turned off his capsule and left Sphere. The icon of his communicator in the Courier channel blinked and went dark, turning inactive. It might have been a connection issue, but I had a bad feeling about that. Still, there was no time to investigate.
“Prepare for battle!” Komtur commanded.
Chapter 23
THE SHARP OUTLINE of Atrocity loomed through the pink slough of the Astral Plane. Home, sweet home. Pandorum’s fleet was grimly advancing, surrounding the fortress in a broad crescent. Two and a half hundred ships, six thousand players — everything the Pandas could scrape up without exposing their rear was there.
“We’re closing in. Start firing at the dome when ready,” Phantom commanded.
“But...if we get within shooting range, the citadel cannons will reach us!”
“It doesn’t matter. Shut up and do it!” the leader said, bitter.
Phantom was at the end of his tether. Everyone had a snapping point, and the events of the last few days — the betrayal, the dissolution of the alliance, losing Atrocity — had caused him a lot of stress. Sharpshooter’s offer of visiting Panther in real life made his anxiety even worse; Phantom was starting to regret ever agreeing to that. However, it was too late to backpedal. The gears of war were already spinning.
Unlike many, he knew very well that there would be no second opportunity to win everything back. Whoever had planned the Bazaar operation that stripped them of their fuel source, that
