Shards of the Disastrous Bark
They picked a path carefully. Others glanced their way. Some scoffed. All were preparing. The range of weaponry was enormous. Revolvers, rifles, swords, submachine guns, shotguns, grenade launchers, the list went on and on. Weapons of different styles and sizes. Some even looked as if they'd been hand assembled, kitbashed together out of spare parts and solder.
Stalker nudged the girl, inclining her head at another person. The girl had already seen her, but she looked again. It was a short woman whose gauntlets were a mixture of intertwined circuitry and wiring, and she was stringing a massive warbow. It hummed, and she turned to the side to inspect it, revealing her back and the sharpened lengths of rebar she kept in a quiver.
They toured through the camp. So many others. They all had powers, abilities no normal person could ever dream of. What would it be like if they all worked together? If they set aside their differences and worked for the common good?
She hoped the Iron Lords were doing well. Their success would mean so much. To show the world it was possible.
But for now, it was a contest. A frantic struggle.
Some had entire arsenals. One man had a sword nearly larger than the girl's shield. One woman seemed to have no weapons at all. She sat there, wrapping her fists in bandages, flexing her fingers before nodding to herself.
Soon, they would all be enemies. "We have to find allies quickly," she murmured.
"Could always join up with the lady who was more interested in your shield than us," said Stalker.
The girl was already approaching a prospect she'd been watching. A woman who had a sword and shield, both better maintained than her armor. She was seated, gazing off at the tower, her brow furrowed. She looked over at the girl, and her eyes widened.
She leapt up, clapping the girl on the shoulder, a relief and awe on her face. "You made it," she said, words coming out machine-gun quick. "I always knew you would. Wow, you're carrying a big shield around now, huh? Big one as the table, small one for a plate? Smart, must be heavy, still got both your arms and both your legs, so it's worth it."
"I-" the girl blinked, the woman's patter throwing her off. "Did I know you?"
"Oh," said the woman, her face falling. "Oh no. You're a Risen now, aren't you. I'm so sorry."
"You knew me?" the girl leaned forward.
"Yeah, of course, of course," said the woman. "You and me, we went way back. I'm sorry I left. I had to. I knew you'd be harmed if I stuck around, and when you've been around as long as I have, well we just keep losing friends, you know what I'm saying, Daisy?"
Stalker covered her mouth, trying to contain her mirth.
"Daisy?" the girl asked. "That was my name?"
"Yes," said the woman. "Gwendolyn Daisy Pepperjack. You went by Daisy. You must have been only twenty when you died. You should have lived a full life. Hundreds of years ahead of you. But instead, reduced to this. I'll always wonder if it was my fault, you know? A cloud of guilt forever over my head. At least you have a nice table and a little hat or plate now."
"You're screwing with me," said the girl.
"Honest, hand to my heart," said the woman, slapping a hand to her collarbone. "Daisy, I'd never lie to you. How could you even suggest such an awful thing. Your mother would be ashamed of you."
The girl stared at the woman, and she burst out laughing, a quick peal of noise extending into panting chuckles.
"I think I'm going to cry," she said after another wheeze. "Too easy. Every time. I'm gonna add another name for the next one, I'm taking suggestions."
"Are you going to go in alone?" the girl asked.
"That's the heroic way to do it, isn't it?" said the woman, a sunny smile on her face. "A solo raid on the tower. Legends would speak of me and myself. Why, you still looking? Showed up late without a proper team?" The woman poked and prodded with her questions, either trying to provoke the girl or get her to go away. It was difficult to tell. It made the girl more stubborn, wanting this woman on her team. "You going in with a shield on each arm, or is this a formal occasion? Does that mean I'm underdressed? Didn't think I'd need an entire armoire wearing an armory, but here you are."
"Here I am," said the girl.
"You're a good audience," said the woman. "Some call me 'fuck off and go away,' but you can call me anytime."
"You seem pretty intent on doing this solo," said the girl.
"Yup," said the woman. "Yup. That's me. Solo act." she dropped her voice to a gravelly whisper. "I work alone."
"We're stronger together," said the girl.
"Oh you've never worked with some real losers, have you?" said the woman. "It's a doozy, it is. Everyone's staring over each other's shoulder, trying to figure out which Light's the good Light, and how to properly point their guns. You need any hints?"
"Sure," said the girl.
The woman sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're no fun."
The girl smiled.
"Why do you want it?" the woman asked in a breathy stage whisper, leaning forward conspiratorily, looking the girl up and down. The girl couldn't tell if it was feigned or not. "What'll you do once you get it? Get yourself a harem of guys? Gals? Force people to bow to your whim? More guns? Shields?"
"I want to shut it down," said the girl.
"You're preserving the status quo?" said the woman, her voice losing its jocular tone. "That's what you think is right?"
"No," said the girl. "I think it's a prize we can't avoid. One we can't afford to have on the playing field, especially in the wrong hands. It's tempting. But I don't think we can harness it, not right now. We aren't willing to work together, so anyone who has it will be attacked for it."
The woman's eyes shone with renewed interest. "Ooh, good story," she said. "I like it. I really like it. Okay. Okay, okay, okay. You got me. I'll come and join your fool's crusade. The underdog story, it's just so satisfying."
"I thought you were going in solo," said the girl.
"Me too!" said the woman. "But here you are, and here I am, and you look like you're a few members short of a team. I am down to destroy. Shut down, seal away."
"This is a bad idea," said Stalker.
"I am," said the woman. "But I won't stab you in the back. I promise. No fronts, either. I'll see this through to the end. What's your name?"
"Stalker," said Stalker. "She doesn't have one."
"Nameless hero," said the woman, rubbing her hands together. "I'm calling you Pansy, Daisy, Rose, or Shield. Take your pick."
"What's yours?" the girl asked.
"I've accumulated a few, most unflattering," said the woman. "I'm going by Mynah right now, but I've been called a rat before."
Stalker glanced away. "We're out of time," she said.
The girl looked from her wraith. They were. More teams were moving out, and others were following in their wake, refusing to be left behind.
"Let's go," said Mynah. "I'm ready. You ready?"
"No," said the girl.
"Good answer," said Mynah, pulling on a helmet, brown with gold outlining where her eyes would be.
It was easier and harder.
There were walls of still cooling glass in the dust storm, created by the people ahead, as they channeled Solar Light. But sometimes the walls would detonate, showering them with glass shards. Traps for those attempting to use them? Or just trying to ensure nobody used them at all? They pushed onward, and the girl saw something, flecks of gold catching the light.
In a split second, she whipped her tower shield off her back, and it skidded into the ground as she halted its momentum, holding it in place. The projectiles hit a moment later. Glass spat, sizzled, and cracked as it splashed against it, then fell away.
"Someone must have used Solar to splash the ground," she said. "They're trying to take out competitors."
They pressed forward, but the girl kept her shield out, ready to stop any more projectiles. They made their own walls, the girl empowering her tower shield, Mynah flicking flame into the ground with a white hot knife, causing the ground to crest into a wave, catching the dust until it finally cooled into a makeshift barricade.
"Gunshots," said Mynah, glancing off to the left.
"Didn't think the fighting would start this soon," said the girl. "Thought they'd at least get to the foot of the tower."
"Visibility getting worse," said Stalker. "Potshots at enemies ahead of you when they can't respond. Walls provide cover from the front, but if you're taking shelter…"
The dust storm slowed. They were confused for a moment. But there was a larger, still red hot wall, slowly being covered in detritus. Too hot to scale, they had to go around.
"Someone else must have had the same idea," said the girl.
"The wind is picking up!" shouted Mynah. She yelled something else, but the girl was already throwing her barrier down. She'd seen what was coming.
Someone in front had lit the air on fire. A rolling wave of flaming detritus came their way, a crackling slap against the barricade they had to weather.
Then the ground shook. Huge shadows crashed down, slamming into the earth. It felt like the world was ending, an earthquake and fiery death all in one, protected by a soap bubble in a hellscape. Was it another attack?
One crashed down closer, a giant rectangle, twisted almost in two. Plating from the spire. It grew from the earth, casting the area behind it in shadow. The storm was forced to curve around it.
"We can use it as shelter!" shouted the girl, pointing, trying to raise her voice above the storm. "We can't stay here!"
They moved together.
