CHAPTER 26: An Oath of Loyalty

Brandy opened the doors of the warehouse to be greeted with the stench of iron, smoke, and burning rubber. Bodies, countlessly and excessively carpeting the war-torn field, spread and scattered like the product of a mass extinction. Of the thousands Elgar had bragged on about, not one man was standing in Brandy's way. The ACI Units truly were the most merciless of all of man's creations. No wonder the normal world had banned such devices from even being tested. Like the nuke, and the mustard gas before it, humanity had deemed its own brainchild too horrific for even their worst enemies. The ACI Units were no exception. But the TA did not play by man's rules, and could always afford to break them. Brandy kept trekking forwards towards the truck, which oddly remained untouched, defended flawlessly by those demons born of steel and zelstone. He opened the truck door, allowing his little minions to lift Annalise into the outstretched back seat. Brandy himself struggled to left himself up the steep steps leading to his seat. After entering, Brandy quite literally flopped and fell into his seat. As the adrenaline wore off and the pain-numbing chemicals flushed through his escaping bloodstream, he sat and admired the waking dawn as light flowered as smoothly and effortlessly as water, spreading clarity through the once-blackened fields and deep, sculking forest. Within a few minutes, a vivid image singed itself in his mind: one of fresh brilliant greens, vibrant whites and yellows of the late-bloomed wildflowers, and the dark, brooding, and bloody reds that were filled and saturated with the agony and sorrow of the impoverished and lifeless bodies from which it flowed. In this painting, Brandy saw a circle of continuity. To get, one must take. That was the ultimate law of the land, signed and contracted by man and nature alike. There were no "ifs" or "buts", for if one side was not greedy, the others most certainly were. As he slapped multiple gel-like patches onto his open wounds, he jumped when he heard the truck door open from the other side. Were his senses failing him that badly already? Midnight stood on the sidestep, observing the disfigured Brandy, and watched as the little machines prepped Annalise for an IV located conveniently in the back seat. Thankfully, they were prepared.

"How much blood did you lose?" Midnight asked quickly.

"Enough that I'll survive. Damn, I'm dizzy."

"That's good, and I see you've already got the patches on as well. What about Annalise?"

"Most of her bones have been shattered. Thankfully, with her regeneration, who knows… she might be up and running in a few days. I'm more worried about the mental strain. She's been unconscious for quite a while, and did get up and deck a certain asshole..." Brandy opened his jaw to laugh, but winced with pain. He felt with his tongue the broken and chipped teeth he was given along the way.

"That man not only decided to survive my first attack, but he got me back even, too. Damn, my face is ruined for our next battle, and here I thought I could go in there looking pretty badass..."

Midnight chuckled.

"Nah, you still look pretty badass. Got the whole 'one eye' aesthetic going on. Even then, I've heard Tangente is sending you a fully-masked helmet to prevent things like this from happening. You're the only one of us who has gone all this time without a proper suit, after all."

"That's because I've never needed it before since the invention of my urchin grenades. I have only ever gone into combat against humans and the occasional rogue modified human. We've never been up against anything of this caliber before."

"Well, get used to it. Our next battle will be against real GMH's, not these prototype thirty-sevens. Though conquistador was stronger than your average GMH by the looks of it, he might be weaker than some of the special types they might have there."

"Are you sure they'll have special types?"

"I'm betting on it. Words such as 'Gila' and 'Black Mamba' are floating around lately. Those men or women might be. This is going to be harder than I thought. And here I am, being a dumbass and trying to minimize casualties on both sides."

"Yeah… Why are you doing that? Who gives a shit about those arrogant bastards. In my opinion, they're better off dead. We could use less idiots in the world, prancing around, making names and causing trouble."

"Yeah, well, those idiots are the heroes or anti-heroes of their own story. They have lives, want success, and have every reason to obtain it. What we- What I am doing is absolutely disgusting. Going around, killing soldiers. killing mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, sons, daughters, learners, teachers, explorers, friends. They're just plain people, getting paid to get killed. Are you not one of them?"

Brandy fell into silence. Midnight made a fair point.

"So..." Brandy continued awkwardly. "What's all this talk about family? I mean, I respect you, and am greatly… you know… indebted… to you… but can you tell me about that? I'm curious, are you that much of a family man?"

More silence.

"I used to be..."

"What do you mean, 'used to be', what happened?"

Midnight breathed in a hasty, unsteady breath.

"...Until a certain white-haired, violet-eyed man came along."

Brandy tilted his head down, trying to avoid eye contact "Thanks, Midnight… for this. You didn't have to. You risked injury or a trap for me and Ann. You've earned more than just my respect. You now have my loyalty" he said before some epiphany made him halt his breath and look straight at Midnight.

"Wait... what is your real name?"

Midnight smiled.

"Terece. Terece Griffon."

"That's it?" Brandy smirked jokingly. Midnight chuckled too.

"Yeah. Were you expecting something a little more grand? Sorry to disappoint, but I was just a normal person at one time in my life. No secret family history, no alien heritage, no special underground connections. Just a guy who got kidnapped and forced to do things he'd never imagined himself doing. Even now, I'm just a puppet on his strings."

"I guess that's just how things are. Ok… We should be ready now." Brandy said as he closed his eyes. Rising from the other truck, a swarm of spheres flocked towards the ruins of the warehouse. Disguised among them were multiple mechanical eyes Brandy could utilize to scope out any survivors and deal with them swiftly. He inspected every inch of the surrounding land, finishing any who showed brain activity. The ACI Units would deal with the cleanup.

"What about the POWs?" Brandy asked.

"All prisoners were released. There weren't many, though. You know how hard it is to keep many GMH's in captivity."

"Yup, and what about the 'gold worth more than gold'?"

Midnight pulled out the yellowish-silver tentacle-like vein.

"This shit's pretty heavy! Stuff's gotta be many times the density of osmium!"

"As it should be. Similar to Zelstone."

Midnight looked at the vein curiously.

"So this is what makes those A-98 Carnage jets so powerful?"

"Yup, but don't think that I will explain to you the science behind it. That isn't my area of expertise. Didn't you want to know more about my urchin grenades and how they can levitate, right?"

Midnight made a smug, cat-like face "Well, hell yeah! Whatever keeps your mind off the injuries"

"Time to turn on teacher mode… I… would've slapped both cheeks right there, but as you can see, I need a hand, or two" Brandy said, waving his nubs around.

Midnight tried to prevent himself from laughing, but a half-cough erupted from him.

"You better check if your wife's pregnant. That was the most terrible dad joke I've heard from you. It's a sign, I swear-" Midnight's joke was interrupted by the groaning of Annalise. She laid flat there, trying to move each of her limbs, but tensing up and failing every time. She spoke.

"You guys better be cautious, they had a massive weaponized aircraft when they attacked us." Annalise croaked, fighting the urge to cough.

Midnight's face suddenly changed as if a nightmare had consumed him, he looked back at Annalise with wide eyes.

"What did it look like?" He said quickly, on the verge of panic.

"It was a matt light grey, with a bit of a rusty red color accenting a small part of the front and sides. There were times where its exterior was sharp and jagged, but it could transform its texture like an octopus or a squid. It was very strange"

"And was there a symbol on this aircraft?" Midnight trained his eyes into blank space.

"Yeah. A shiny silver lamp. You know, what you'd expect a genie to come out of. The lamp design had a purplish haze wisping around its spout, eventually rising up and fading into the background of a night sky with a single golden eye"

"The Violetta insignia. The foundation was here, and helping the Thirty-sevens nonetheless. What does that damned man want now? I'm progressing like I'm supposed to."

The brace on Midnight's arm started to vibrate. He immediately picked it up. Tangente was on the phone.

"Start the attack now. We can't wait until the week is over." He said in a quick, serious tone.

"Why? What's going on?" Midnight responded.

"We just got information that the Thirty-sevens scattered across the world are banding together to form a formal alliance to assist Ethiopia and the Brotherhood. This is big. We just found out from our foreign branches. We're talking three hundred thousand, at least. Could be much more. We need to hurry up and get our main forces to the capital to deliver a pincer attack with the shadows we have inside the city before the thirty-sevens organize themselves enough. One spy has even notified me that their leaders are arranging a physical meeting just as we speak, and so are the human leaders from around the world with a digital one. They might send their own troops to strike sometime and somewhere later. I should have let Brandy go, but not you. That was a mistake on my part. I think we might've just set up the road for another world war. Damn it!"

"Hmm, I can go there myself back to a rendezvous if you'd like. Just bring food and the generator. Ehhh, but what about you, Brandy?" Midnight turned his head to the man beside him. Brandy looked back at his wife.

"Go on without us, get one of the survivors to drive for me. Both of us won't be of any good use on the field until we recover. Anna's looking like she'll take about a week to recover, and I'll get prosthetics while my arms are still unusable. I'll only be using a gun, anyways."

"You got your arms blown off, Brandy? What a rookie."

"Hey, that fucker was tougher than I thought, OK? He was a god-damn animal."

"Yeah, he was a pup. What does that make you?" Tangente said, joking around to keep his mind off the stress.

"Whatever. I still have more degrees than you."

"Yeah, and I have more knowledge."

"I can't stand this anymore" Midnight sighed with his own smirk "Give me the location and I'm out. Peace."

Midnight opened the door and ran to the other truck to talk to the survivors before using the black tendrils to propel himself in bursts, also pulling himself with outstretched spikes that dug into the ground like claws and acted as momentary limb extensions. The tendrils rose and fell in length as they moved Midnight using a flashy display of gymnastics across the half-open, half overgrown terrain that was exceedingly motley and unpredictable.

"He sure is fast, for someone who doesn't have an AG suit yet..." Brandy commented, looking into the distance.

In a place far from Ethiopia, many men of various colors, physics, and clothing came into a tall, open room with countless banners displaying the prideful insignias of gangs, groups, and even small nations barred from the rest of the world. These leaders, darkened by their recent news, proceeded to sit and wait for what was to come. A man, dressed elaborately in red, brown, and gold sat at the end. "El Santo Dorado" was his street name, the boss of the largest mafia owned and comprised of thirty-sevens.

"Now, let's begin." The Golden Saint said in a deep, abyssal voice, his frown abstrusely showing his eight terrible fangs, which, unlike the others', glinted of a metallic silver that accented the gold worn atop the unusual attire around his massive frame of a body. His skin was a smooth Latino tan, with large, pale, milky eyes consisting of an opaque honey color. His hair was short, slicked back, and slightly grey compared to the snow-white hair of Brandy. Though his face and body structure showed clear signs of great experience and maturity, there were no traces of wrinkled aging or decay.