Surprise. However, Pandorum was ready for emergencies. They also had trump cards up their sleeves.
Gor: What should we do?
Phantom: [Censored]! Stop beating around the bush, Gor! Use Sun’s Kiss!
Gor: The kiss?! Are you sure? It will kill us all, too! And the gear...
Phantom: To hell with it! At least you’ll remove their defenses and break inside!
Gor: Got it. Activating...
Boom! Blinding light filled the screen, so bright that Phantom had to look away. Sun’s Kiss was a legendary one-use artifact charged with divine energy. It ignored antimagic, darkness, even True Fire. Phantom knew that like a small nuclear bomb, Sun’s Kiss would destroy everything living or dead in the three worlds. The worst thing, however, was that it removed from fifty to a hundred percent of durability from all items within its range. Well, at least, that’s what the description said: nobody had ever used the artifact.
The light blinked and went out. Phantom frowned. According to the description, the Kiss was supposed to produce a minute-long flash burning everything in its vicinity. Several seconds were nowhere enough.
A moment later, Gor confirmed his suspicions.
“Boss, the Kiss didn’t work! Somebody interrupted the casting!”
“How? Impossible!” Phantom screamed.
“Well, somehow. Those of us still alive all burned down, and that’s it. Oh, and Michael, there’s one other thing.”
“What? Speak clearly!”
“Just watch the video.”
The main channel was already abuzz with a hum of confused voices.
The Kiss had destroyed the camouflaging cloud of darkness, and the flying stars burning everything with True Fire vanished as well. Turning to the video stream, Phantom saw a spacious dome-like hall with weird round windows and doorways resembling spaceship illuminators. An unknown emblem was looking down from the light metallic walls — a winged mask frozen in a dignified half-smile.
Pandorum’s strike team had respawned in a different place than Atrocity.
* * *
Romanova sharply pulled her cupped hands away, wincing in pain. A blinding glow was rapidly blooming inside the Silver Stronghold, as shown on the translucent projection above the table. The floor of the command center trembled, and dull rumbling spread from the depths of the Maidens’ fortress.
“Son of a bitch!” the First Maiden muttered, quickly rubbing her smoking palms.
“What is this, Lena?”
“A gift from some god. An all-devouring mumbo-jumbo! Well, all right!”
Romanova looked livid. Pushing back the rebellious strands of her black hair and biting her lip, she joined her hands above the hemisphere rising inside the hologram. Her face distorted in pain, but the First Maiden kept stubbornly pushing, not letting the light grow. The battle lasted for just a few seconds. The fiery flower blinked and disappeared in a shower of sparks. With a guttural puff, she yanked her hands back, now smoking and charred.
“Lena!”
“It’s all right!” the First Maiden slowly replied. Her cheeks were stained with red streaks beneath her tightly shut eyes, but her injured hands rapidly healed, burn marks replaced with fresh pink skin. Her regenerative abilities were apparently incredible, as everything was over in less than several seconds. Looking at her fingers, Romanova spoke up, her voice threatening, “I think I’m angry now.”
* * *
A few hours earlier...
“Are you serious? Where would it go?” Olaf asked. “Where would the players dying in the Astral Plane respawn?”
I gave him a slight smile, rummaged through my inventory, pulled out a silver chain with a Veil pendant, and showed it to the clan leaders.
“Have you ever wondered where I found them?” I asked.
“Of course, we have... The Maiden Order...” Olaf said. His eyes flashed — he had figured it out.
“I get it! You’re suggesting we move the resp circle to wherever you got the Veils! The citadel of that mysterious Maiden Order!”
I nodded, silent.
“And they don’t mind? Is this even possible?”
“Quite.”
Not long before, after the battle with the Nomads, Romanova had openly wished for the Atrocity resp point to belong to the Maidens. Then they would become the only Astral faction, gathering all sentient inhabitants of the interdimensional space under their banners. NPCs and players alike would be forced to collect reputation by completing their quests, while the Maidens themselves, exchanging favor points for the treasures of the Astral Plane, would transform into a powerful group under the Seven Brothers’ command. Pursuing their goal would be much easier with an army of loyal followers. Looking for the Keys and fighting the Magister required a powerful foothold, and the First Maiden was gradually fulfilling her plan. Insofar as I knew Lena Romanova, she was a tough leader who faced difficulties head-on — a real iron lady.
“All right. I’ll add you to the command channel. We have a few more hours to adjust the plan,” Komtur said.
Apart from our leaders, the Courier voice channel had some members of Hird and NAVY. Familiar faces, familiar voices... We had already met when discussing Black Friday at the Bazaar. I was sure they would approve of my idea. Effectively, our coalition wouldn’t lose anything, gaining a real chance to defend Atrocity. Without a way to attack from the inside, the Pandas had no chance of taking the fortress. They would be forced to destroy the dome, wait for invincibility to run out, regroup and attack it again. It all seemed quite challenging in the face of the ellurite deficit and multiple strikes against Pandorum’s holdings.
On the other hand, I wasn’t going to expose my connections for free. Smart people would make conclusions, which might backfire on me in the future. Helping the alliance was well and good, but who said that my work had to
