Apocalypse Redux

Chapter 274: Interlude Ozarks

There were many kinds of democracy in the world, ranging from people just trying to get on the same page to thinly veiled insults. It all depended on the nature of the situation and the temperaments of the people involved.

Elena preferred it when things were cordial, but sometimes, Churchill-style democracy was needed, aka “the art of telling someone to go to hell in such a way that they ask for directions”. And then there were situations where the only “diplomacy” left was the kind that came out of a gun barrel, but for that to happen, there needed to be some seriously contentious issues at hand, with no chance of peaceful resolution.

For example, when one side wanted to destroy the world, and the other really, really wanted to keep it intact. There wasn’t exactly much common ground to find there.

“How much further?” she asked their local guide. They had to be in place in a quarter of an hour and they were in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Perfect for getting away from it all, and she might just drag Isaac here if this place survived the upcoming fight, but if they didn’t reach their destination soon, there’d be trouble.

“Not too much further,” the sheriff assured her, “I’ve been here more often than I’d like, there used to be a pot farm here before the whole thing got legalized.”

Then he spat on the ground.

Elena rolled her eyes. As if that was the problem right now.

The entire racist history of marijuana being banned to give the police an excuse to go after black and Latino communities, and how the drug was pretty much harmless to anyone over twenty-five wasn’t even what she was talking about.

But rather, the only people who could even be affected by such a benign narcotic had to have an extremely low Level.

Currently, “drugs” were a million times more dangerous than they’d ever been, being toxins that had to work through the resistance of people who could drink entire swimming pools of Everclear without getting even the slightest bit tipsy.

Alchemical crap that would kill anyone even remotely normal who imbibed even a single drop, and do one hell of a number on anyone outside of the precise intended Fortitude range. Throw in the various [Skills] that modified how people interacted with toxins and the sheer power of the people actively working on removing their self-control and it was easy to see how problematic things got when alchemists decided to spend their valuable time cooking up that crap and why she didn’t much care about weed.

But the information she’d just gotten might be useful.

“A pot farm? Why isn’t it there anymore?”

“It’s here because it’s in the middle of nowhere and if we hadn’t been searching for a missing hiker, we’d never have found it. Now that growing it is legal, no one would ever work up here.”

“Who would have known about the farm?” Elena asked. That little tidbit had not been in the briefing materials, just the fact that there was a small compound up there.

“Anyone who worked there, I suppose,” the Sherrif shrugged.

In other words, it seemed likely that at least some of their enemies would be exceedingly familiar with the terrain.

She quickly shared her worries with her companions, and then they kept walking in silence, mentally preparing.

There shouldn’t be too many people here, or too strong ones, but relying on that would be a terrible idea. Better to be over- than underprepared.

“We’re here,” the sheriff pointed towards a small cabin in the distance.

“Thank you, Sir. Now, please, for your own safety, retreat to a safe distance,” a burly Marine with a tower shield warned.

“Captain Benson, I …” the sheriff spoke up, likely about to say something along the lines of “This is my jurisdiction, I have a right to be here,” but the Benson cut him off.

“Unless you can bench press a tank of survive getting run over by an aircraft carrier, you have no business in this fight.”

The sheriff backed up.

The go signal came and the cabin exploded. Not because of anything they’d done, mind you, but because the person inside of it had apparently decided they weren’t getting enough light.

A woman with a seemingly ageless appearance marched out, carrying a walking staff as tall as she was. Her clothing looked as if it had once had a different color, but then been changed into being a deep, dark black and the highlights an even darker black, somehow, going beyond the point where the normal descriptor of “seems to swallow up the light” no longer seemed appropriate.

Splinters and entire roof timbers rained down around them and the Marines opened fire.

“So this is how you choose to end things? Fight the people who represent the threat, when the real danger stems from the fools you’re protecting. Every single one of them has the potential to destroy the world and so many of them have almost succeeded, yet we’re the ones you attack?” the woman pronounced in a voice that reminded Elena simultaneously of a wildfire and the stench of rotten plant matter, seemingly unbothered by the bullets that flew past or bounced off her clothes.

Even the Marines’s famed [Esprit de Corps] failed against those defenses, though admittedly, it could only go so far when there were just twenty on the field. Between Captain Benson and Elena, that should have been enough to conquer a cache of goods, but this person … she was dangerous.

A single step let her cross a hundred meters in an instant, and two more brought her into range of the Marines, her staff hammering into Benson’s shield. A massive, ephemeral, cone-shaped shockwave passed through the barrier and swept over the people who should have been protected.

A split second later, the ground underfoot exploded to unleash a geyser of water that flung the woman clear. Elena could tell the attack hadn’t been decisive, but at least she’d bought them some breathing room.

And then, her stomach growled amidst a chorus of similar sounds from everyone around her. That … couldn’t be normal.

Absurd power, a “black” color palate, weird voice, an unnatural appearance that was still oddly human, a “hunger” curse … oh, for the love of all that was holy!

The warning about the fact that they might be facing Famine, an aspirant who’d never died, went out even as Elena’s wings snapped open, blue-and-silver patterns shimmering in the sun, carrying her above the chaos, more and more geysers pulled from the aquifer below sent towards her foe.

As Famine charged once more, the Marines spread out to provide open lines of fire while Benson took to the front, playing bulwark.

The black cloth began to fray under the sustained gun-and-spellfire and Benson loudly proclaimed “[Nexus of Conflict]”, voice booming across the empty field. Famine switched targets at the last second, for no good reason choosing to hammer away at his shield.

Ok, that was one hell of a nasty tank ability.

But the problem was she only realized far too late. Her mana pool was already at two-thirds full and still falling, even when she wasn’t actively casting anything. Throw in the fact that her stomach was now constantly growling and it was very obvious what the problem was here. Every “resource” they had was being drained just by being near this woman.

And then, Famine rammed the but of her staff into the ground. Every plant within a kilometer withered away to practically nothing, her attacks began to push Benson back and it felt as though Elena’s stomach was trying to digest itself.

A wave of the black-clad woman’s wand caused several Marines to outright collapse, seemingly reaching the end of their rope.

[Wave of Rage] sent her flying once again, [Crushing Depths] smushing her into the ground, but it didn’t seem to hurt her much.

A pounding headache rudely announced its presence, and Elena finally took the chance to look at her Status, because she really couldn’t imagine what was happening now.

[Health Status: Starving, Suffocating]

Oh … that was not good. Starving was obvious, but whatever her foes’ [Skills] were, they were draining everything that could support life, even the very oxygen from the air. This was really not good. Anyone without an insane Fortitude Stat would die just from being in the general area.

Major General Gibbs was already working somewhere deep in the background of the party, arranging for reinforcements that would actually be able to do something, but it would take too long. Most of their reinforcements were already in play elsewhere, and everyone else was either not in range or ill-suited for this enemy.

Some asshat already gave them all his condolences, promising that Famine would not live more than a few seconds beyond the moment the last of them died due to the nuke that was already prepared for launch.

No! Hell! NO!

Her water ceased exploding from the ground as the entirety of her focus was turned inwards, to the plan.

And then, the edges of her vision turning black, she let herself fall, water rushing up to meet her and wrap her in a massive wrecking ball of water compressed despite the fact that the liquid couldn’t naturally be compressed.

She barely felt the moment of impact, but she’d treasure the sheer look of shock on Famine’s face as the two of them flew through the barely stable portal she hadn’t noticed for the rest of her days.

The pair of them came out in mid-air, falling rapidly. Unfortunately, Famine would probably have survived the impact, so they didn’t stop there.

The Blackhawk holding a pair of portal mages that they’d been teleported near began to splutter and almost outright fell out of the sky just from being around Famine for a few seconds.

But another portal, this one far larger, opened with what seemed to be extreme difficulty under them, and both Famine and Elena fell through, hitting the asphalt. Around them, the world began to crumble apart, birds falling out of the air, plants withering away into nothingness and even the energy charging the array underfoot began to deteriorate, but then, it activated, sending both of them several hundred kilometers, straight up.

Huge clouds of silica dust exploded skywards as they slammed into rocky soil, floating for an unnaturally long amount of time.

The blackness from the edges of her vision vanished even as the final breath of air left her lungs, moisture turning into clouds of sparkling ice crystals before her eyes.

But that was alright.

Everyone knew her as “the water fairy”, but she was an Asrai, a fae related to not just her lake, but the moon, whose light energized her.

There were two places where she was at her strongest. Her lake in Camelot … and the surface of the celestial body that had orbited the Earth for eons.

The moonlight wrapped around her, granting her strength, healing her injuries, and most importantly, making up for the fact that she was currently trying to breathe vacuum.

On her back, the wings shifted, shining brightly as the colors ran into each other, becoming covered in silver flames atop a blue background and white light streamed off her hands.

Famine’s field redoubled in strength as she did … something, even draining the moonlight keeping Elena standing.

A ray of light punched her off her feet and flung her into the distance, the lower gravity making the force vastly more difficult to resist.

Wings beating slowly and steadily, Elena rose from the ground, ray after ray of light punching Famine further and further back. The attacks were still costing her mana, but being vastly empowered by the moonlight.

And whatever mobility options Famine had, they were clearly not suitable for low gravity or use in a vacuum.

After a disturbingly long amount of time, the battle finally ended, Famine’s body a bloody ruin.

Human (Lv. 151 Horseman of Famine) has been slain 500,000 XP gained

Now, she just had to get back down to Earth, and somehow make it up to NASA that she’d broken their moon portal.