12 Miles Below

Book 5 - Epilogue

Absolute power.

He had it. A fractal obtained directly from the machine masters who ruined humanity. And not just any fractal - the fractal of energy. The very same power that ancient humanity used to forge power cells.

It couldn't be used in combat, the silver mongrel wasn't a dimwit. But the knowledge and possible testing that could be done with this fractal made everything worth it. He could not only have power cells made as he wished, it would directly let him study the occult in ways no human of this era ever could. Power had to come from somewhere, and studying the flow of energy directly would let him tap deep into the secrets of the occult.

Only if Hexis could make it to safety however.

He didn’t stay within the luxury of his cabin room, cramped as it was. He remained in the cockpit instead, always keeping an eye of the map - of where he was. If the convoy was attacked, he needed to know which direction to run. It would be a fool’s attempt, but better to stack as much odds as he could in his favor.

The convoy that ferried him down had seen machine attacks. Feral ones that leaped into the way or drakes attempting to take a quick shot. Shields and turrets fended them off easily until the convoy was clear of that territory. Anything else that remained alive was dealt with by the mercenary guard around him.

That wasn’t what worried the warlock. To'Avalis would soon come to hunt him down.

And then, as he predicted, it all came to an end.

Sirens began to wail around the ship, crew and knights arming weapons and rushing over to repel potential borders.

The airspeeder shuddered, then collapsed as multiple drakes opened fire in synchronized attacks. All three of the airspeeders had their engines cut down, leaving them all to crash into the rocky dead ground below them.

A moment later, a mass of machines launched their attacks.

This was no feral attack. This coordinated, there was a driving intelligence behind all of it.

Hexis nodded to Sebastis and the two stood up among the panicking knights. The butler gently took hold of a pair of bags, filled with rations, spare power cells and water slowly pilfered over the journey. He’d been ordered to prepare for this.

"A pity they didn't bring us far enough. We'll have several days of travel." Hexis said.

The butler nodded silently as the two walked down the hallways, letting soldiers and rushing crewmembers pass by like water over rocks.

Before the last junction that lead to the safe vault, they turned, each jumping through a ripped hole in the airspeeder wall. Landing on the bleak black rock under.

The grand highway. Like a massive multi-tiered system of veins, each artery wide as a lake, shifting in every direction. Piled on top of one another, tunnels going through each other. Empty black rocks covered the surface of each massive root, lined into perfect highways.

Navigating was difficult due to the maze like properties, but the wide unobstructed path and sheer connection made it too valuable to ignore. It stretched as far as half the planet’s hemisphere, likely all of it, but such a claim couldn’t ever be proven. This would have carried them the majority of the way, only having to cross three smaller biomes afterwards in order to reach the fortress with his guild’s branch.

"Is it possible to travel with the knight entourage?" The butler asked.

Not with a Feather after them.

“That remains to be seen." Hexis said instead. "Should we shield the airspeeders, there is a possible chance the crew might repair them to some degree of operation."

That would be worth attempting to fight for the doomed undersiders here. An airspeeder could outrun a Feather. Or so he hoped.

Rifle shots filled the air as knights scrambled out to eliminate the attackers.

A few members from both sides saw him arrive. Machines seeing another target, and the knights likely far more worried to see their charge out in the open.

Filth surrounded Hexis. Impure souls filled with rust and regret. They were in his way. Attempting to bring about his end.

Pathetic.

He was Hexis Galrament. Grand High Warlock of the Argent Scryers, council of ten, warlock guild of the ninth league. Judicator of the Relia Lineage, the Asente Lineage, and the Mar'okee Lineage. And most importantly, he commanded the occult like few others in his guild could.

He would never die a dog's death.

Hexis turned to his butler. “You will hold this for me. I only require a moment.”

The gold staff his student had built for him as payment for services rendered. It would be a shame to mar it here. The butler set the bags down, and gingery took the weapon from Hexis, then took a step back.

Hexis turned to the war before him and drew on his fury. Warlocks were warned never to expend more might than needed, machines should know the true extent of his order's might. But Hexis was beyond trying to hide anything anymore. The Feathers knew. And he knew they knew.

The machine feral creatures with their undeserved tyrannical hold over the world. His hatred of the guild’s sniveling politics. The derision leapt from his mind, turned to lightning by the occult.

He raised a hand, bringing forth the twin concepts of lightning in his mind. A torrent came out, slamming against the wave of machines, frying their circuits. He continued his spells, chanting and humming all the same, forcing sound waves to compliment his assault. Lightning leaped from target to target.

More tendrils of power reached out, further past the bounds. He advanced, holding out two hands and forcing the flow of power through them, thunderstrikes into the machine army on both his right and left. All at the same time, he alternated his humming, drawing in fractals within his mind and those pulsing through the very air.

Fractals that had next to no connection, and yet their activation within the material world changed behavior of others in predictable patterns.

Lightning dove into the ground, following his will like a fish, tongues lashing out at machines as it passed by, frying more of them. Ozone flooded the area around him, and his relic armor filtered out the smell.

The machine wave was halted, then began to break before his focus. The field of battle was quickly expanding away from the downed airspeeders.

A cry came out behind him. The knights all seemed to turn to a new target that demanded all attention. Hexis took a look and his heart fell.

A hulking figure of a pale man walked steadily forward. Metal halo spinning above him. A hammer twice his size, idly held in one hand. The other dragging behind a golden shield. A Feather.

Rifle fire of course did nothing. The knights around him drew up in formation, then charged, occult blades at the ready.

Hexis didn’t wait to see what could happen. He launched a bolt of lightning, directly at the target, only to see the man lift his hammer and let it take in the damage.

He gave a shrill whistle, changing the spell's parameters, forcing the lightning to circle the man across the ground.

The Feather paused in his advance, head slowly turning to watch, as if mildly curious.

Hexis commanded the lightning, demanding it to leap forward and impale his target from every direction.

Fork of pure power licked the side of the man's body, tracing outlines and flowing back to the ground through his feet.

When the last of the electric snapping faded, the giant continued to walk forward as if nothing had happened.

Immune to this vector of attack, Hexis thought. A different approach is in order.

He alternated to a languageless chant, focusing a new concept within his mind. Kinetic power forced the earth around, slamming diagonal pillars into the Feather from all directions.

The Feather paused for a second time, as if confused as more pillars of rock locked him into place.

The knights leapt at the trapped target. The monster lifted a hand, easily shattering the rock holding him, as if it were nothing. The hammer swung. The closest knight flew off, lifesigns flatlined.

"We're leaving." Hexis said to his butler, then turned and briskly walked away.

The knights behind him broke ranks as well, some running, others trying to regroup at the airspeeder. Statistically, that was a far better plan. They weren’t the ones being hunted by a Feather.

Sebastis grabbed hold of the spare bags in one hand, keeping the staff in the other as he dutifully followed behind, keeping calm as he always had been. “What is the itinerary, your magnificence?”

“To the imperial bastion of Asta’lom. Precisely where I had first intended. It will suffice.”

It had to.

The imperials were frantic about preparing for their fabled final battle. If they had to build anything, they built it with the belief that it would see a battle eventually. Those fortress were often filled with Deathless passing through, armed with soldiers constantly preparing for armageddon. A bastion built to repel machines indefinitely.

The only place that might shelter him from a Feather. His guild didn't have a branch there, but the imperials would welcome his talents with open arms regardless. Especially if he proved he could power anything without searching for mite fountains, scavenging machines or seeking out the surface gods for their blessing.

“That is five days given the speed of relic armor.” The butler said. “Do you believe we can make it?”

Hexis summoned the occult and waved an arc of diffused lightning ahead of him, instantly frying the screamers that barreled straight at him. “Do you belive me to be weak? I am a grand warlock.” He snarled, anger still fresh in his mind from the spell. “Of course I can make it.”

So long as there weren’t Feathers.

To’Avalis would predict where he was going. He needed to hide from his sight.

The landscape around him were only rolling fields of highway, snaking by each other. But this was the underground. There was always a wall somewhere.

More machines filled in behind them as they raced across the ground. His butler took a look behind, but wordlessly kept pace with Hexis.

He had to commend the servant at the ease of which he took in events. Most others would panic.

There were a few tricks. Ways to sneak past Feathers. Not quite invisible, but certainly passing through places he couldn’t be expected to reach.

Mountain sides soon appeared, thank the pure soul, unnaturally vertical blocks, likely holding some other biome on the other side. Mites of course. It looked like this mountain had been here before the highways, and those roads simply swam around from both sides.

It would do.

With one last weave of lightning, the area was free of machine influence. And hopefully machine sight.

He brought to mind the concept of a fractal, then launched it out through the rock with a pulse of occult. A hole appeared, cutting straight through, likely half a mile deep. He bolted directly through.

Once the two had passed the threshold inside, Hexis turned the fractal in his mind, letting the front section fall out of focus.

The wall rematerialized. Entombing them within the structure.

“From here, we tunnel to the city.” He said, taking a breath. “While undeniably beneath my station, exigencies demand sacrifices. Conserve your armor’s energy, we will have many days to go.”

The butler nodded without complaint. It made the Warlock’s hair stand up, flickers of paranoia running through. Too calm for any sane person. Sebastis had always been unflappable at any event but this would be stretching it.

“My staff.” Hexis said, reaching a hand out. If there was to be a betrayal, it was critical he have this in hand and ready to use.

Sebastis passed it over with reverence, shifting the bags back into order. “Given our speed and the days ahead, your magnificence, I recommend we pause twice each day for rest, food and water. Unless the esteemed master has another plan?”

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Could that butler be carrying a tracking device for To’Avalis?

Nonsense.

The butler was an Imperial, and one of the Salvatoris denominations - they worshiped Deathless as servants sent by the goddess. All imperials saw them like servants of the goddess, but the Salvatoris took it as the focus of their dedication.

Sebastis had joined Hexis to meet and speak with Deathless of all kinds. Going as far as to petition to meet the surface Clan Lord, of which he'd been granted the audience solely because Hexis moved his pieces to allow it.

And where they were going, the Imperial fortress had five or even ten Deathless at any time. The older ones, those who regularly delved down deep into the layers. It was everything the butler could have wished for.

Sebastis would be a fool to turn on him now. That and Hexis had obtained exactly what he’d come for - absolute power. He’d arrive in that fortress and become indispensable. All who followed behind him would be richly rewarded.

All Hexis had to do was go down to the floor level of the highway ratsnest, and then tunnel as normal in the exact direction.

Was the butler loyal to the Imperials? Or had his allegiances changed since meeting To'Avalis? He shouldn't have had any contact with that Feather, but that didn't mean the Feather didn't reach out to get a second agent in place.

Perhaps that idea had merit, since not even an hour into their journey, To'Avalis found them.

There’d been no warning. One moment the two were walking down the dark corridors with their suit headlights keeping the path clear, and the next moment, they were thrown off their feet.

Sucked right through an occult portal, to the other side, where that brute of a Feather’s hand stretched out and yanked his butler out of the air.

Hexis slid right past him, skidding against the wall, where a glowing mark remained. The gravity fractal he recognized almost immediately.

And he was flattened against it, as if crushing weight had been shoved onto his chest.

"Explain." To'Avalis demanded, voice cold. To the far left, clearly keeping a safe distance from the trapped Warlock.

Hexis could barely turn his head to look, but that didn't stop his eyes from painfully turning to see his enemy. "Why even bother to ask? We both know you're here to kill me."

To'Avalis looked like a ruined machine. Ripcage exposed, the internals still being fussed over by a swarm of black. Legs dangling like a paraplegic. One hand only shards of metal floating, the other wrapped around the earlier giant monster of a Feather, the only reason To'Avalis was moving anywhere. Hexis got a closer look at the foe. That monster's head was shrouded by a thick scarf that covered forehead, nose, cheeks, neck and still had enough material to flow down his back. Deep violet eyes lit from the darkness hidden under that scarf, the only hole exposing the pale skin under. Heavy cloth covered the rest of the frame up, leaving only a vague impression of form. The monster carried both To'Avalis on his shoulder and a massive warhammer on the other, as if neither weighed anything at all. And in the only free hand, he held a squirming human, Sebastis. Still alive, despite being a single crushing grip away from death.

"After I have my answers, I may yet let you both live." To'Avalis said.

"Nnnn..." The monster grunted, as if trying to back up his charge and simply out of words for it. He lifted the trapped butler up, waving him back and forth.

That got a laugh from the old warlock. He wasn't born yesterday. In the large pool of liars and conmen, Hexis was well versed. He was one himself. "Come now, To'Avalis. You won't suffer a traitor to live."

To'Avalis paused, processing. As if Hexis's answer really had taken him by surprise. "... It seems you are correct? While the rational direction would steer me to find a middle ground with the least effort, I find that option... simply unpalatable. But I will have my answers first. Where are the Winterscars?"

Feathers. Their ability to detect lies depended solely on technical details. So long as he knew he was correct - and focused his mind on only that - his body wouldn’t betray him. The mind of a warlock is many things - unfocused is not one of them.

Hexis had put the tracker inside the airspeeder Keith and the others had ridden. He hadn’t lied about that.

What he hadn’t mentioned was that he’d placed that tracker two entire months after the Winterscars had left.

"They’re long gone." Hexis said, laughing. "Alas, my report was… a tad bit tardy. You won't find them now."

He tried to move his arm and found it still trapped against the rock. This fractal was powerful, or the Feather had compounded it several times over. He would need to disable it before he could do more.

Occult pulsed out. But not from Hexis.

Sebastis, the butler. Still trying to wiggle out of the large Feather's hand. He gave a kick down and ripped free with a crackle of power. Then turned, jumping up to delivered a punch, infused with occult, straight at the Feather's head.

Miraculously it actually landed.

No better than that - the monster of a Feather hadn't bothered to move at all. Because the attack did nothing, not even so much as make his head twist an inch. The butler took a step back, not knowing what to do next.

Unfortunately, Feathers were specialists at acting fast.

A chain glowing bright occult blue wrapped around Sebastis's decision-frozen arm, causing the armor's shields to crackle in a desperate attempt to hold against the force. An instant later, they failed and his arm was cut clean off. To'Avalis, his human looking hand still hooked over the massive Feather's neck, had raised a chain whip with that other hand of fragmented metal.

Sebastis took one staggering step back, watching as black blood pooled out of the open wound. Blood Hexis recognized.

"Nnn... annoying." A massive hammer swung right for the stunned butler. Sebastis lifted his remaining hand at the last moment as if it would stop the massive weapon. Occult crackled around him, and a dome appeared before his hand.

It did next to nothing. The butler was sent flying directly away, slammed on the other wall before crumpling down.

Hexis almost couldn't put together what had happened. Sebastis had never learned any occult from him. He was strictly a servant. But if he used the Occult, and more importantly that far darker shade of blood...

A Deathless then. And given he had never shown any care to be heroic or do good at every corner, he must have come from the latest generation. Likely trained his life to be a servant, only to find himself a Deathless as of six or seven months ago with the rest of their lot.

Ah.

That's why he seemed so unflappable - he knew he couldn't die.

The thought relived Hexis. At least one of them would live through this.

Sebastis tried to stand, his armor creaking to a stop. Too damaged to let him move. Bent unmoving sections jettisoned off to clear space a moment later. He coughed, blood leaking down. Even the fabled regenerative powers of a Deathless took time to work.

He lifted his head and looked straight at Hexis, as if knowing he was about to die. "It… has been an honor, your magnificence."

"It has." He said, and found that he meant it.

The butler gave him a pained smile, nearly black in blood. The chain flipped around with deceptive speed and sliced through his neck. The body slumped straight down, headless and unmoving. In an hour it would break apart into dust, and Sebastis would find himself back to the nearest pillar heart, or the surface if he so decided. He suspected the butler would choose the surface. There was someone there who could continue to teach him the occult. And what it meant to be a true Deathless, not that rabble that held onto the title these days.

To'Avalis scoffed. "Was that your insurance? Your secret bodyguard? An untrained Deathless against a Feather?"

"It was… unanticipated." Hexis admitted. "I suppose we all have our secrets. Some more than others."

"And I fail to understand any of yours. Or of your actions. What is this secret that made you pick a fool’s path?" To'Avalis said. "You had everything to lose, and nothing to gain."

The Feather was right. He really did have everything to lose, and nothing to gain. Still. He was Hexis Galrament. And he wouldn't die a dog's death.

He dove into the forbidden fractal at his neck instead of staying to listen to anything else the metal monster said. The world expanded around him, and he seized the faintly glowing fractal directly behind him.

A hammer imprint on a wall, faint trace of liquid metal mixed with power cell fluid. The enemy Feather literally stamped the fractal of gravity where he wanted it to be. Barbarian. A twist of will, and the fractal was unmade.

Hexis returned right back to his limp body, taking a deep breath as his feet hit the ground again. Then he focused his mind, locking eyes on the ground by the Feather. That monster of a machine needed to touch the ground he wanted enspelled. Hexis would show them what a true spellmaster could do with willpower alone.

Concepts came through his mind and he let them travel out his mouth, weaving spell and chant at the same time, breathing his will into the world. A shockwave took both Feathers, throwing them off their feet.

Hexis wasn't done.

Reality obeyed his command, flowing to the next fractal within his mind, and then shifting to where he’d controlled the origin point to be. Air compressed downward, dragging airborne Feather down into the ground.

The monster's knee hit the rock in surprise. To'Avalis stumbled off, knocked off the shoulder. He slammed a hand to catch his fall, breaking through the rock down to his elbow. It held him back from the crushing force trying to force him as close as possible to Hexis's will.

Occult pulsed through Hexis again, and he called upon the mark of division, commanding it to appear and bind with another occult cast. His arm slashed through the air. A blinding blue arc flew directly at the downed Feathers.

Shields flared up, sapped away by the slice.

Pain flashed through Hexis. The cost of that spell cut deep into his mind and soul. Division for division. He was casting forth the very concept within his mind, even if he demanded the entirety of its cutting edge to materialize outside. The ghost of the concept was still razor sharp.

The monster began to rise back up, the force pulling him down insufficient. He grumbled as if he'd simply had to lift an unexpected load, hand lifting up that hammer again.

Hexis split his mind into three. One calling forth the fractals of division and hurling it at the targets with each hand swipe, and the other two pulling forth the mental image of the gravity fractal, forcing it to comply to his twinned will, mouth uttering tones and signals that pulsed fractals across the very air.

The monster was crushed through the rocks, pulled down again. And slowly stood back up a moment later, feet lifting against the forces, walking through the rocks as if they were nothing but heavy water. Hexis's hands threw the very concepts of destruction and division down at his enemy like a god smiting his foes again and again. Shields flaring with each heavy lash that struck.

It wasn't going to be fast enough.

No. Not like this. I have come too far to fail here.He groaned and split his mind a fourth time, holding a third fractal of gravity fixed into his mind, forcing it down on the enemy.

To'Avalis had been completely submerged into the rocks, the gravity multiplied exponentially across his chassis forcing the Feather out of the fight. He only had to destroy one target, that monster of a machine that resisted his pull. He could break To'Avalis after.

He threw more lashes of destruction before him. Division took its toll, and the monstrous Feather's energy shields finally broke before his might.

"Nnn... more dangerous than expected." The monster grumbled, head finally looking up as if lucid for the first time. "Fine. I'm going." One giant hand reached behind and lifted the large golden shield. Hexis finally recognized it now that he was closer. A mite blast door. A section of it.

The hulking Feather had been carrying a plate of indestructible mite metal. With supreme effort, the Feather took slow steps forward, hiding behind the massive shield, rocks breaking before his path as he pulled himself against gravity. It was like an icebreaker crushing through the world. Hexis threw more lashes, occult blinding in the air, empowered by the other spells he'd cast. It struck deep into the golden shield, licking across the surface, breaking only dust and built up grime. Unable to break through more. The concept of division clashed with the mite's own occult powers imbued deep within that metal, and the metal won.

He was not going to be beaten by a damn doorway! He split his mind a fifth time, nearly losing command of the the other fixations, now whistling tones that mutated and changed the very air around him as consequence. Power flowed in a whirlpool by his fingers and mind, occult crackling between his very teeth as blasphemy flowed from his mouth that defied the very laws of the world itself.

He spread his arms apart, both hands stretching far to his sides as if he were about to embrace the entire world. The lightning hummed, then lifted off, arcing from his hands outwards, held like a rabid dog with a fraying leash.

The Feather saw the incoming jaws of death, filled with occult blue teeth. He gave a weary grunt, then hid behind the golden shield.

Hexis squeezed his hands. lightning leaped out, surrounding the enemy Feather from both right and left. Then it converged down on his target, each tongue carrying with it the means to unravel, to obliterate. They all slammed home in a crack that deafened the room.

Hexis hissed a moment later, sensing his spell overtaken by something else. The lightning had converged on his target - but not the Feather directly. It all lanced out to his shield, as if drawn to it like a magnet.

He wouldn't be able to bypass the Feather's defenses and didn't have the time to try again. Hexis would just have to break through them then. He drew his hands forward, lightning flowed through the air and instantly dug deep furrows into the mite doorway. It continued to crackle, multiplying like roots of power. Flickering and ripping apart more and more of the mite's grand work of art. He poured more of his soul into it, demanding the very makers of the land itself to break before his might.

It wasn't enough. The monster was making his way one step at a time and Hexis felt exhaustion growing into him, even as deeper rips formed over the doorway. His mind was connected too deeply with the occult, the world blurring into concepts and mathematics, unraveling, infinity stretching before him, focus waning. He had to keep the gravity fractals in mind. All of them. And he had to keep chanting the litenty, to fill the air with the exact sound waves needed, despite the utter chaos around him. He needed to focus with each lance of division, any that he cast poorly would manifest division directly into his own mind, ending his life instantly. And even with perfect casts, the pain at the mere echo was breaking him down with each strike.

He... needed... he needed his staff. With a groan, he spared just enough attention to move his flagging body, a single step forward, then a slow decent down to his knee. A spare hand patting around the ground, reaching down to grab his discarded staff while his other held every last bit of occult power he could command.

He pinned the staff down with a foot, and twisted the handle with his hand, priming the weapon.

Just in time.

To'Avalis rolled through a portal of some kind to his left. His world spun as the Feather immediately got up from his half ruined feet, and grabbed him by his neck. Then rammed the warlock into the wall, breaking his focus. The Feather slammed his head again into the wall, and darkness rushed around Hexis's vision as the last crackles of lightning licked aimlessly around him. He felt another spike of pain right after even as the world blurred. He'd been slammed a third time, head feeling like it had been split apart.

Everything was quiet again. The occult in the room was gone.

His staff. Where was his staff?

“Your actions defy every psychological assessment and projection of your nature.” To’Avalis hissed, bringing the warlock close. The Feather sounded genuinely perplexed, almost frustrated. “Why?"

Hexis tried to bring his fractured mind back together. His staff. Had he dropped it?

To'Avalis shook him in the air, demanding an answer. Fine, the mongrel wanted an answer, Hexis would give him one. “... It came as a surprise to me as well.”

That was the truth. But where was his staff?

He looked around on the ground and didn't find it anywhere.

The Feather growled, lifting him further up away from the floor. “I will admit fault in selecting you. Dealing with humans is not among practiced skills. What I do not understand is why you decided to turn traitor. Explain. What was the endgame? What was there to even gain for you? I must discern my errors to prevent future miscalculations with you humans.”

Hexis could understand the confusion. He’d come to the surface fully ready to betray anyone he needed to in order to gain the absolute power he carved for. He’d done far worse over his career, it was second nature to him by now.

Blast that boy for reminding him of why he’d become a warlock in the first place. The search for the exotic. To study the occult and all the mystery it held. To collect more than just treasure.

He was simply unable to turn a blade on a kindred spirit like that. “A fool’s path." He chuckled. "It truly was. And I have to see it to the end.”

He was going to. He'd found his staff. His addled mind simply hadn't caught up to the obvious conclusion.

It was in his hand. Of course it was in his hand. He was still alive, so there was nowhere that staff could be besides his hand.

He moved his eyes slightly and saw it right where it should have been, clutched tightly. Despite having been grabbed by the Feather, and slammed into the rock three times over with enough force to crack his skull, his hand still held that relic with a deathgrip.

“That is not a coherent answer.” Avalis said, shaking him again. Demanding full attention.

The bastard would get that then. “Hear this... as my answer, mongrel." He spat, breath steadying with each word. "I... am... Hexis Galrament. Grand High Warlock of the Argent Scryers, council of ten... warlock guild of the ninth league. Judicator of the Relia Lineage, the Asente Lineage, and the Mar'okee Lineage. And I will see you again. In hell."

He let go of his staff.

Modified circuits from his improvised dead man’s switch detonated in exactly the wrong ways, sending the crammed power cells inside into an immediate supercritical state. Exactly as Keith had warned him could happen with such egregious lack of safeties.

His apprentice wouldn't have known - that was the entire point of it.

The last thing he heard was the staff humming off tune. Then crackled... and detonated.

With absolute power.

-- END OF BOOK 5 --