CHAPTER 25: Let's go Home

As Brandy entered the massive door of the large gray juggernaut of a truck, he walked past the many black boxes lined up against its huge interior. Inventory was ready and safely secured. He walked and jumped up to the rim of the door frame on the back of the truck, grabbing hold of a wide bar and making the large segmented door slide down with his body weight, he thrusted forward last second, flinging himself sideways onto the underlying road and shutting the door with a sharp metal click. He wiped the dust off his hands as he looked in front of him. There, Midnight was in an equally gargantuan truck that was identical to the first with the exception of its cargo being loaded in from the top. A chute feeds the ironclad beast a steady flow of small, matt-colored spheres. They were simple in design, but that was the point. Without a single second to waste, Brandy swerved around the truck and climbed the steps to the driver's seat. Into his brace, he said a few simple words, "Annnd… we're going."

As he sat there in silence, he could not help but remember Anna, and the past. The memories came to him nice and vividly, replaying his moments of nostalgia like he was truly experiencing them once again. He challenged himself not to make any obscene faces while he rolled the memories like movies in his head.

Brandy walked down the grey and red facility halls a fresh convert. His tensions were high, though his body helped him a great deal. He had been asked what he wanted to do, but froze when he was pressured to make a choice. Though he had been a hardworking and talented university professor, the new occupations required him to experience an entirely new field of work. He desired to learn, to teach, but his knowledge was too niche for the average mercenary or soldier to use. While looking through the list of career options, he came across a job similar to an Explosive Ordnance Specialist. Not only would he be the one disarming the enemy bombs, but he would also be engineering and placing allied ones. A job requiring a mind, just as he had hoped for. He could have gone to become one of the scientists working directly under the likes of Arewara herself, but his gut called to this one. Even as a kid, he had been transfixed by grenades, bombs, and chemical warfare. When he saw real footage of a nuclear weapon bursting into a great ringed mushroom taller than any tree and as large as a mountain, he was curious. What would they make next? There was a beauty in the art of explosions. The uniformity, the symmetry, the majesty of bombs such as these were the first forms of art he learned to admire and respect. Little did he know the bittersweetness that came with his decision. As he continued to walk, a solemn sound could be picked up by his ears. The sound was… sweet, and pleasurable. He did not want it to stop. He halted, and was attracted to the source of such an enriching sound. He turned the corner, spotting a door to his right. He looked through the slender rectangular window. It was a single blonde-haired woman, soaked in an aura of both honey and superior dignity. She was angelic, and the way she sang with her eyes closed with not a single audience member other than him made him want to stand there for hours on end. After a few minutes, her song ended with tears in her eyes as she opened them and looked for the door. Faster than he had ever moved before, he dodged to the side and hurried away to fulfill his original task, distracted and utterly flustered. He felt an overbearing weight of guilt, and figured he had witnessed something very personal. He wanted to run back to her, to comfort her, to ask her for her name. But anxiety clung its iron strings around his chest. He was nothing compared to her. In the decades of his lengthy life, he had not experienced the pleasure of a romance. He had been so absorbed in his journey for knowledge that he had missed the golden romantic years of his youth. But now, after being a teacher and a victim of deadly cancer, he realized that he could start this life anew with, dare he even imagine it, her by his side. The thought made the Brandy of the past squirm and jump up and down just as he had when he first came out of the procedure's coma(much to his discomfort). He went off to apply to his job, full of fiery energy and passion. For his basic training, he was taught to smell out bombs and learn how many different kinds of them worked. There were many variants, and they were always crunched on time. But it didn't matter to anyone there. Their minds were able to suck up the information like a sponge, allowing them to learn a year's worth of advanced curriculum in only a couple of weeks. Brandy only wished that the procedure was made public, as learning was just as easy as paying attention in class, no studying or reviewing required for life. It made Brandy almost laugh, how easy it was compared to the grind that was traditional schooling. After several months, his educational training was finished. He was now a true master of every known explosive to date. Now, what was left to do was physical training and combat training. Brandy had only just realized now how strong and capable the TA was. Since educating modified humans was painless and quick, even the most basic of soldiers had a good variety of professional skills. Thus, the average soldier was an elite in his own right aside from just strength, resistance, and reflexes. He also learned that they had been paired aside from their regular militaristic group structure, into mini-groups of two to three mercenaries connected to a larger group of twenty. These mini-groups were composed of one to two ranged specialists with one close-quarters combat specialist that the one to two ranged specials were supposed to support. The strongest and toughest of the soldiers were selected as close-quarters specialists, while the rest were support. The close quarters were not only given the guns and knives and other such standard-issue equipment but received a rather unique-looking needle-like weapon. The piercing part would turn hot as the user would use their extreme strength and the blade's toughness and hardness to puncture a hole in various vehicles such as tanks and armored vehicles. The needlelike appearance of these weapons wasn't just for show, either. Once inserted, a small hole in the side of the blade's tip would shoot out an extremely corrosive poisonous gas to kill all inhabitants inside, even if they were wearing a gas mask or other forms of protection. As Brandy readied himself for his first match in hand-to-hand combat, he saw a familiar face in the corner of his eye. Facing off against a seven and a half foot soldier was none other than the blonde-haired woman.

Many hours had passed, and Brandy sat there impatiently, his leg shaking and his eyes trained on a box-like warehouse that was in the exact spot of the rendezvous point sent by the Thirty-sevens. They said they were willing to give any hostages and even the alphanium back, but it would cost a high price. As they pulled up to the towering structure, a group of fully armed thirty sevens came in their own grey uniforms. Brandy figured that they would have to be very organized to best his wife, but he wasn't expecting this elaborate setup. There were vehicles and everything. This meant that there were other establishments. Just how much did they breed over all these years? Their numbers could even have reached a few million by now. This was no small threat. He and Midnight stood side by side on the dirt floor in front of the gates of the base while they were inspected for guns or weapons. They were given the all-clear. They were told to take off their armor but they refused. A man who seemed to be the group leader commanded them to take it off, but at that second, his speech was quelled by the entrance of a very tall, rough man in what could only be described as a casual outfit of brown pants and a jacket subtly modified to provide protection. He had slicked and spiked black hair, thick tannish skin, and beautiful pale milky-green eyes that had their share of confidence and aggression.

"Let 'em in, I hated the time we spent waiting already" His voice was deep and thundering, but the variety of tone in his voice was astonishing. It fluctuated smoothly and zealously with shady anticipation. He led the group into the building, with Midnight and Brandy in the center with guns trained. In the back of the somewhat plain warehouse, a large trapdoor sat encased in metal. The man in the front grabbed the handle of the massive door, and with tremendous muscular strength, lifted the enormous metal sheet with ease. The thick heap of metal swung open, revealing a wide staircase that they all entered. The steps stretched down a ways, its end a mere speck in the distance. After they all went in, six of the guards heaved what could be assumed as the only exit shut, and locked the door behind them. After a few minutes, they finally reached level ground. From the hallway opened up a complex system of branches that lead into oblivion. In the somewhat open intersection of the catacombs, the man slid a white metal crate into the middle of the room and jumped up to sit on it while crossing his legs and using his hand as a pillar to support his chin.

"So, you have the instructions, correct? Show me them and I'll see if they're real." He outstretched his other arm for the papers. Brandy retracted his armor, and reached inside the chest flap, pulling out some documents, which had been paper-clipped on all sides. He tossed it like a frisbee, and it flew to the man, who caught it and flung off the paperclips anxiously. He flipped through the papers, an excited smile crossing over his face.

"Finally! Zelstone! Don't worry, boys! We can finally get those upgrades soon..." his laughter crackled and echoed across the steel walls.

"Now, as promised, we'll give her back..." He said with a suspicious smile. Two guards entered from a side branch, carrying the limp body of Annalise by her inner side of her elbows, stripped of everything but her tank top and shorts. Her hair was messy and tangled, and one of her feet was positioned unnaturally. Her head draped down and swayed loosely as the two men walked. They threw her at the man's feet, and he slipped off his makeshift throne to pick her up by her jaw.

"Ah, yes, this BITCH. She killed seventy of my men before collapsing from exhaustion. She put up quite the good fight, I can see why she's worth coming back for. But, I made sure she paid her due first..." he said as he held her face tightly under a crushing grip.

"Stop that." Brandy said in a falsely calm voice, his eyes narrowed and glancing at his wife. The man reacted by cracking a sadistic smile.

"Ohhh, that face. Do it again. Here, I'll help" The man said glancing from Brandy back to the unconscious body. He grasped Anna's arm and gave it a shake. To Brandy's gut-wrenching sickness, the arm bent and twisted a little as it shook.

"Yes, they're all shattered, completely destroyed. You should be grateful, though!" His voice enlarged and elated "I didn't kill her! Nooooo, she still had some use left in her! And look, it's right here!" He loosely let go of the body and let it fumble to the floor as he grasped the documents with both hands and looked at it almost lovingly.

"Give her back now. And If you hurt her again, I'll behead you here in front of your subordinates" Brandy said in a deep growl. The man's eyes darted to Brandy, as a full-fledged grin settled on his face, showing his great long fangs.

"That's right… The deal was to give her back alive… Hmmm… I wonder..." He said as he crouched down near her head and extended a hand gently to her chin, creating a little finger man that slowly walked up her face. He looked up, ecstatic to see Brandy's reaction. Brandy's face was sour, the skin on his chin crumpled and his brow drawn down. Veins popped from his hands and from all sides of his forehead, blending in with the furrowed creases of his tensed face. His eyes were now open wide and the reds of his irises glared as if coursing with lustful crimson blood itself.

"Fine… Thanks for putting on that show. I'm satisfied… for the moment. Here you goooooo!" he kicked up the body straight in the air before letting it glide down to just the right height before delivering a powerful spin kick that sent her barreling in Brandy's direction. Brandy dove to catch her before swiftly and gently pushing his legs out in front of him to propel himself backwards behind Midnight and away from danger. Brandy gazed intensely at his wife, assessing her injuries. He carefully reached behind him into his waist bag, taking out a cloth with a vial of liquid. He popped off the cap before slapping the cloth on top of the vial's mouth and turning the entire thing upside down, letting the cloth soak up the fluid. He then put the cloth near Anna's nose, which instantly made her cough and open her eyes dazedly. He then reached back into the bag and pulled out a liquid vial labeled "glucose" and put it up to her lips, watching intently as she steadily sipped the syrup before coughing. He lifted to vial, and waited for her to clear her swollen throat before administering the syrup much more slowly. The room stayed in dead silence for the few minutes it took for Brandy to finish this. After lifting the vial and capping it again, the man spoke.

"Well, that's touching." His smile only grew more sickening with time.

"Alright, where's the alphanium?" Midnight asked. His eyes were alert and expecting. The man merely laughed it off.

"Not anywhere that you can find it. We should have stalled you for enough time now. There is no escape. Five thousand of us are outside this building right now… and more can be requested on command. Wow. there really is no hope for you guys now. Why walk into such an obvious trap?"

Brandy's face remained unchanged. Only silence came from the two.

"Well then, 'Midnight', let's see how you look in your last moments of life. And let's find out why they call you 'The Iron Magician', Brandy Worston."

Brandy said only one sentence.

"Elgar 'el conquistador gris', do you want to see why they call me a magician?"

"Oh yes, please do."

To this, Brandy's frown turned an unexpected 180. A smile more gruesome than many had seen in their lifetimes was plastered on his face.

"Then let the show begin!"

And with an outstretched hand and a snap of his fingers, Iron spines, like quick sprouting blossoms, erupted from the necks of everyone around him, painting a gore-filled bouquet of red-stained iron flowers. The bodies were suspended while standing, their heads replaced by black urchin-like structures with quills so long and hard they had punctured deep through the ground and ceiling of the room. The self-important grin was wiped off Elgar's face in an instant, as he himself had barely missed the speeding projectile, which had punctured his papers. Dozens of superhumans, slaughtered instantaneously. Hundreds of matt gray orbs with glossy patterns hovered around Brandy, encircling him in a cylindrical wall of dancing spheres. Elgar only now realized that Annalise was his only true leverage. He cursed and sprang towards the woman, only to fearfully break his advancement sideways as many small orbs jumped to the chase. They flowed and turned through the air effortlessly as Elgar ran from the ensuing threats. Their speed! Their numbers! Their damned dexterity frustrated Elgar to no end. They were hell-hounds on the pursuit, ravenously exhilarated from the knowledge that they would catch their prey eventually. He now understood that Brandy's power could be enough to destroy even the most organized of armies. He dashed through the maze of hallways to plan his escape, but he turned the corner and THERE THEY WERE! Every path he took, the orbs had already been waiting for him. Just how many of those things were there? He fled, and fled, and fled until he was perfectly cornered. They slapped themselves onto his skin, the last remaining open patch showing the man's eye as tears ran down his face, awaiting his long-anticipated karma. In an explosion of countless iron stars, Brandy watched as the one iron point stopped its lightning growth a mere inch from his nose. Maximum growth radius: two-point six meters. Midnight followed behind him with an oddly relaxed face.

"I'll go on and look for the Alphanium, you can just wait here with Anna for a while and get her to the truck once everything's done." Midnight said with a light smile. "We did it!"

As Midnight dashed into the abyss of the hallways, Brandy casually turned and started jogging back. He was about to turn the corner as he heard a noise. He looked at the collage of metal urchins and heard another sound from its center. With a sound that was a hybrid of a scraping tear and a breaking clang, Elgar emerged from his dark chrysalis gasping for air. A stressed, frenzied laugh erupted from his being.

"I knew it! You really can't puncture my skin, can you!" Without hesitation, he dashed for Brandy, who prepared to counterattack. Instead of a direct attack, Elgar dodged out of Brandy's path and sent himself barreling down the hallways. Instantly getting what Edgar was planning, Brandy launched himself towards the escaping fox. Elgar continued his pace, shrugging off each individual metal burst he came into contact with. They could only slow him down now. Brandy screamed a prayer in his inner thoughts. Annalise now within sight, Elgar let out an insane holler. As he dove and reached for her neck, he realized something was off. Why were there blue metal orbs surrounding her on the ground? Before he could retract his fingers, green-tinted metal spontaneously grew out around both sides of Annalise, creating a devilish beartrap that ensnared his fingers within them, cutting them clean off. Elgar smashed head-first into the shield encapsulating Brandy's wife, flipping the beast over the dark coffin and around to face Brandy, who was now guarding the thorny pod.

"You think you can play with me that easily?" Elgar said, taking out a pistol and firing multiple rounds at Brandy. Some golden orbs Brandy had floating around came to life, forcing themselves in front of him and exploding into solid shield structures that, with part of the device remaining intact, continued to levitate around at Brandy's will. Elgar used this opportunity of false safety to lunge towards Brandy and pry apart his line of shields. Propelling off the shields he had grabbed, he swung his fist and connected a hit that boomed as it broke the sound barrier. Brandy was sent flying into his backwall of shields, staggered by the raw force of such a punch. Fist after fist connected as Brandy backed down his shields before they dropped to the ground, unable to interpret his thoughts. He was on the floor now, a madman on top of him, bloodying and breaking his face while the man laughed in pure ecstasy. After it was apparent Brandy would not get up, Elgar made his way towards the cocoon hiding Anna. With as much force he could, he bent and eventually broke off a single razor-sharp shard of the Zelstone alloy. He walked over to the paralyzed Brandy and stood there, looking down on him with a dark, gleeful face. He got down on his knees, sitting himself down on Brandy's waist. He raised the gleaming green dagger, a stark contrast to his light, cream-mixed green eyes. The dagger came down, breaking straight through Brandy's left humerus. An abrupt scream came from Brandy and reverberated down the infinitely long halls, falling only upon deaf ears. Elgar finished the job by slowly hacking through the muscles and skin, leaving only one flap of skin left attached, which he promptly sliced. He threw the excised arm to the side as it flopped to the ground, Brandy just laying there, a witness to his own dissection. Elgar raised the blade again mercilessly, next aiming for the opposite arm. The blade came down with lightning speed, only for a force much faster to carry Elgar in his entirety across the room. A deep-bellied crack thundered and shook the walls for a split second, followed by the denting thud of Elgar's body smashing against the solid metal plating. In Elgar's place stood the roughened figure of Annalise.

"HANDS OFF BEE, YOU LITTLE PRICK!" her voice boomed. "IT'S TIME FOR A REMATCH, I WAS FORCED TO SKIP MY MEDS AND FOOD, THANKS TO YOU!!!"

After only a few steps, she collapsed once again. Brandy never did have the time to feed her those meds. But this was the only chance he could get. The time was now, his head had cleared just enough. Spinning around on his back, he jumped back up into a crouch, almost falling over in the process. A blue orb flew into his remaining hand, and he lunged to the wall where Elgar was slouching. Their faces side by side, Brandy thrusted his fingers through Elgar's eye, lodging the blue orb deep inside. He then grasped onto the inside of Elgar's eye socket, using Elgar's weight as leverage to pull his feet in front of him.

"Despedida, diablo." Brandy said as he launched himself away from Elgar as he frantically reached towards his mangled face to remove the device. Brandy detonated the orb early to ensure victory. As the metal expanded quickly in front of his eyes, he closed them and hoped for the best. The needles encased his arm as they bit through it greedily. One such barb made its way through Brandy's right eye. The growth stopped, leaving Brandy locked in place with two decimated arms and a punctured eye. He first delicately backed his head from the spike skewering his eye, trying to stay as still as possible and not shake or flinch from the immense pain. His breathing was the hardest to control, his lungs felt like bursting. He knew his body would be fine with that, the monster that it was. The real problem was the entangled arm. How much blood was escaping from it? As he stood there, he used three orbs to open his bag and get both a third vial and a dropper. With six orbs, he twisted the lid open and used three to squeeze the dropper, allowing the dropper to suck in the fluid. The little machines flew up and placed the drops on the metallic structure. It fizzed and ate through the solid infrastructure like a strong acid. Though the zelstone was unreactive, the metal alloyed with it was. The few droplets went a long way, as the metal expelled by these "urchin bombs" was actually a type of aerogel, a sponge-like structure comprised of around ninety-five percent air. After multiple refills of the dropper, Brandy's arm was finally free, although his upper forearm was completely detached from his body. He walked over to his wife, and leaned down to take a bite of her clothing. He dragged her body past the cage she tore through and the crease in the ground where she had planted her foot to absorb the counterforce of her punch. Almost to the steps. Push.

Confused about how to handle the dilemma of the stairs, he brainstormed a more practical solution. He gathered all of his remaining orbs, and they all closed themselves around her, flipping her over and collecting themselves on her back. He made his way slowly up the steps with his wife being escorted by his side. He was dizzied by blood loss and adrenaline, feeling almost as terrible as he did back during his darkest hour fighting in the third world war.

"C'mon, Ann," He said faintly "Let's go home."

Upon reaching the heavy metal barricade, his last blue orb flew to the center, shredding through the metal as it exploded. Using the entire bottle, the orbs flung the corroding fluid all over the ball of thorns, leaving a clean hole in its wake. Jumping out of it, Brandy encountered two guards who seemed like they were hiding from something. They each pointed their guns with trembling hands, ready to shoot until they gazed in terror at Brandy's physique. A man, without arms, coming out of a hole where giant metal spikes had been moments before. It was truly a sight to behold. They met Brandy eye to eye, his gaze glazed over and his eyelids tired and sagged. But it was the reds of his eye that entranced them. Light itself seemed to bend inwards towards the man's gaze, and at that moment they fully realized why the violet-eyed man had once told Elgar to be wary of the Seven Plagues of Ethiopia. Seven demons, told to be the incarnations of nature itself. And like the forces of God and nature, disaster follows in their wake.