Dante

  Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.

  --Saint Francis of Assisi

  I kick down a final door, the chain whirling around my right fist like a bullroarer, and step out into the street.

  And into chaos.

  More Circle troops are out there, yes, though over half of them are on the ground already.

  But facing them are a handful of elegant, armored troops in white and brass and gold, fighting the Circle with weapons ranging from fierce beams of laser light lancing from their fingertips to columns of glowing energy – almost a cool plasma – in pale blue and green pouring from their outstretched hands.

  But the truly strange thing isn’t their equipment, or the Circle shock troops facing them.

  The weird thing is the troops themselves. The men inside their armor also appear to be made of white and brass and gold… machinery.

  Ranging from graceful clockwork gears to ‘steam-driven’ shafts leaking that same cool plasma.

  To muscles flexing like ferrofluids or nanotech fibers.

  Biomimicry. Only mimicking live humans using machinery from the far future… or from anachronistic pasts that never were.

  And beyond them, the city I see is like a mirror of the one I came from. The same great library, artful stone buildings, graceful trees and well-kept landscaping.

  But one filled with other mechanical humans. Or whatever these beings may be.

  And other than the troops battling in front of me and the library itself, everything has a hazy look to it, as if the city beyond were a mirage, or a dream.

  I take all of this in at a glance as I burst out my door and… my mind shuts down.

  Even for me, it’s simply too much. Unfortunately for the Circle footsoldiers in front of me, there’s nothing wrong with my reflexes.

  I lash out with my chain, wrapping it around the ankle of the furthest gunman at the right end of the Circle’s firing line, even as I yank hard and leap left. The guy flips off his feet and slams into the next guy in the line, while I take cover behind a white-and-gold truck idling at the curb.

  Of course, it’s almost as simple yet awe-inspiringly complex as the living automatons it resembles, but the beauty is lost on me as the Circle turns their weapons in my direction.

  Which is fine, because there’s one thing this vehicle has which you can find on an ordinary truck, and even as my opponents take aim, I’m already using my real weapon.

  I wave my right wrist, still sporting Foresight and his counterhacking holographic display, and shine the projection straight into a sideview mirror. While using the fingertips of my left hand to swivel the mirror. Giving all those people staring intently in my direction a full dose of Ghost’s counterhacking medicine.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  I’m not going to cripple or kill innocent brainwashing victims, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to fight fair in return.

  There’s a moment’s hesitation, and then a dozen Circle troops blast my truck into ruins with railguns and particle beams. I jump clear, heading for another open doorway back into the library, but I never make it.

  A counterbarrage hammers the Circle’s forces – not just the handful in front of me, but the others scattered across the street – as the clockwork combatants rally and retaliate.

  “So then,” a deep yet melodic voice says in front of me, “what is this?”

  A mist of that same, strangely cool plasma-like substance circles idly around Foresight. And glowing eyes stare at me out of a mask of white etched in gold. Eyes which are strangely compelling.

  “Cognitive counterhacking,” I blurt out. “Sigils that counteract whatever brainwashing the Circle does to her pawns.” I wave a hand at the crumbling Circle formations, in case my point wasn’t obvious.

  And something else arrives which does not appear to be an illusion.

  Arriving in a flutter of immense gold-and-white wings, a mechanical eagle lands behind my interrogator, and eyes me with much the same intensity.

  The first figure pays it no mind. “So, it works simply by being seen?” he asks, dubiously.

  “By people brainwashed down to their toenails,” I affirm, “using the same techniques it’s meant to counter.”

  “Fascinating.” And then there’s a flash all around me. “Now to test it on everyone.”

  And suddenly every semi-solid building in this dreamscape is covered in vast reflections of the ever-changing holographic sigils on my watch. Almost as though someone is reflecting the same images infinitely throughout the city.

  And the rallying Circle forces crumble like eggshells. Well, actually like people who range from dizzy and confused to passing out on their feet. I’d say around half are dropping without being fired upon.

  Faced with the active automaton forces trying to take them down in every direction, the rest drop in short order, or scramble clear.

  “I would be curious as to the principles behind that device,” the stranger observes.

  “Wouldn’t we all?” I ask, watching the Circle get its rear end handed to it faster than ever. Well, faster than anyone not tangling with Ghost, anyway.

  “What brings you to the City of Infinite Reflections?” the man asks.

  “Lost,” I admit. “In the Library. I was just leaving.”

  “A bit late for that,” the man observes.

  A roar shakes the streets.

  “What…?” I ask.

  “Just a reminder that not every Clockwork Kingdom engenders scholars and pacifists.” He shrugs. “Some… are a bit more colorful.”

  An even louder roar echoes around us, rattling windows and buckling streets.

  Something enormous twists sinuously around the far corner of the street, not looking mechanical at all, but rather like the cold, pale blue-and-green pseudo-plasma my new allies-of-convenience like to use as a weapon.

  And then my mind makes sense of the picture in front of me, and immediately rejects it as senseless.

  Floating and twisting in midair as if swimming down the street is… an Eastern dragon.

  Like a vast serpent with clawed feet and an eerie disregard for gravity.

  And now heading straight for me.

  “Hold the backup, Andi,” I tell my approaching allies. After all, no need for all of us to go down. Either to the pavement or into its gullet.

  A distance voice responds “Are you kidding me?”

  “Are you ready to fight airborne Godzilla over there?” Why argue? If they can see a way around this death sentence, I’ll be glad to hear it. In the meantime, we all need to run.

  “Not me, per se,” Andrea admits.

  And suddenly I’m viewing the streets we’re on from above, just by looking up. Or rather, not these streets, but ones very similar, on the same layout, now flipped over and filling the skies above us like a reflection.

  A reflection sharper and more real than anything around us besides the library behind me.

  And then the reflection seems to pop in the middle like a bursting bubble, and something falls from the skies above us.

  An immense, 30-foot-high figure of an armored warrior. Or more precisely, a mecha.

  I stare up in disbelief. “So they did make it.”

  With a roar of jet engines and the smooth motion of dozens of motors flipping over in midair, the giant armored being lands feet first on the paving stones before us.

  What little remains of the Circle’s forces scatter without a word.

  And it turns to face the oncoming dragon.

  So Arden did build her giant mecha design, I think. Impressive.

  I hope she’s not inside.

  Patreon page for subscribers there. The first chapters released on here are already up there, even for free subscribers.