Chapter 9

  When the world stopped spinning I was on my back, a blur of motion above me punctuated by bright flashes of pain. My brain set about rebooting itself one concept at a time.

  First of all: Ow. I was already hurting all over. To combat this, I got my arms up to protect my face, just in time to intercept an armored boot. Less than a second later, my ribs cracked under the force of another, separate kick.

  Next: People were shouting. They were somewhere close by, but they weren’t the shouts I would have hoped for. No “Guards! Guards! Someone help that man! He’s getting the shit kicked out of him!” No. It was… something else. The tone was off, too jovial.

  Cheering.

  Finally: Skin tight bodysuits should only be worn by the select few. It was then that I realized that, not only was I getting pounded by big burly men, but, I also got a nearly perfect picture of all their identical anatomy.

  Have I had this nightmare before? No. This is a new one.

  Status lost: Stunned.

  HP [260/334]

  Good news. I couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds, thankfully, though my body insisted I’d been the victim of a prolonged beating. Now that my mind was back, I set about changing the situation. That began with getting off the floor.

  I snatched at an opportunity as one of my assailants reared back for another kick, coiling my body like a spring and launching into a two-legged counterattack directly in the guy’s groin. I roared at what the motion did to my bruised/cracked ribs, but that was drowned out quickly by the high pitched squeal that came from the big man and then the subsequent “Oooooh” from the peanut gallery. The Nova goon sank to his knees, tears beginning to well in his eyes.

  Sensing another attack coming, I twisted my body to intercept another kick from behind me, taking the blow on my forearms. Again, I felt bones do something they weren’t supposed to, but i couldn’t pay attention to it now. I lunged, grasped the Nova’s ankle, and yanked.

  With a “Whuh?” the big guy was down on the ground with me, legs splayed awkwardly while his hands fought to keep the rest of him semi-upright.

  *WOOSH* *CLANG*

  Something passed over my head and clanged off my metal shoulder, slamming me back down to the floor, and I looked up to find the third giant with his hatchet raised high for another strike.

  Get up. Get out.

  With speed born of necessity, I brought both legs up to my chin and spun around to kick out hard off of one of the guy’s knees. It was a move I wouldn’t have been able to pull off before I’d become an Exotic, I was sure, but so many points in Body were coming in handy in all sorts of ways lately.

  The move both worked and also didn’t. I’d meant to get distance, slide over the floor a couple feet to get away from the hatchet and maybe not catch a blade to something vital. Instead, what happened was the knee I’d tried to use as a springboard snapped as it bent the wrong way.

  We exchanged a look, he and I, mouths agape in horror as he ceased to be a functioning biped, but then the pain hit him.

  He, like his testicularly challenged brother, also began to scream.

  Unarmed Combat is now level 8.

  Downside: I didn’t travel very far. I ended up just scooting a few inches on the smooth metal deck until I came to a gentle rest against the dude I’d just pulled off his feet, who then proceeded to wrap me up in a choke hold. He hauled me off the floor and up onto his body, wrapping his legs around me while ratcheting my head around, squeezing, trying to open me like a bottled drink.

  It was then, as I was being throttled, that I got a good look at the rest of the hangar.

  The four of us, me and my three stompy buddies, were surrounded by a crowd of soldiers(?), marines(?). Once they got into space didn’t they become marines? I’d ask later. They looked like they were fighters, rough and lean. They wore several different kinds of uniforms with lots of pockets and straps like one does when they shoot things for a living. Some wore helmets, while others carried them in their hands. Empty holsters hung on belts and chest harnesses. Grimy faces, some smeared with the remnants of dried blood and soot cheered and raised their fists, jubilant. Money was currently changing hands too even as I fought for precious air.

  All that, I took in as my vision started to go all white and feathery.

  As one does when they want to live, I struggled, first by trying to claw at the big man’s grip. That didn’t work. Then I started throwing elbows into the man’s ribs, which elicited pained grunts from him but no more. The world began to shrink down to a pin prick, and sleep started to sound much more inviting than the waking world. I’d lost consciousness often enough to know what was next.

  Devouring Grasp [5 MP/sec]

  I woke up to more screaming, this time right into my ear, so loud I was surprised I didn’t receive a Deafened debuff.

  Create reservoir? Y/N

  What? No? I don’t think-

  Glyph of Growth(Major) consumed.

  Status gained: Engine [44 MP/sec for 12 seconds]

  Status gained: Mana Overflow

  Power rushed into me through my arm and blasted into my core. It smashed through my channels and took a blender to my tender insides. My skin felt hot, and my body twitched and spasmed. Then I realized the arm that had been holding me was gone, and I took a big, delicious gulp of recycled air.

  Groaning, I rolled off of my attacker, who’d lost his will to fight all of a sudden, shaking my head, my limbs trembling as I clenched a fist. I rounded on him to put him down for sure.

  Only he wasn’t there. Someone had replaced my over muscled assailant with a limp, skinny kid who was in the process of mewling, panting, and sweating on the floor. He gasped for air, much like I was, and he lifted his arm like he wanted to protect himself except he was too weak to even do that much. He wore the same body suit and helmet the other guys wore, the same axes on his belt too, but that was all he had in common with the others.

  My confusion was mirrored by the crowd, who’d gotten a little quieter once I’d broken the choke hold. I got to my feet and looked down at the kid’s face. A single blonde strand of hair was plastered to his forehead, just like the other Novas.

  A bead of sweat trickled down my nose. I felt feverish, almost delirious. It had been a while since I’d had Mana Overflow this bad. I needed to find something to-

  Something large slammed into my back, but I’d had time to brace. Detect Iron was humming along now, and the remaining two assholes would have a hard time surprising me. My weight and sizeable Body score stopped the Nova cold, and I heard a *wuff* as air left his lungs. When his running tackle didn’t work, he switched tactics, drawing his axes and launching into a furious series of attacks.

  That, I needed to avoid. I sprang back but stumbled as my body betrayed me. My skin felt like it was on fire. Whatever mana I’d just put inside myself was rowdy, or maybe Crystalized Channels really meant it when it said I didn’t do well with foreign mana types anymore.

  I barely dodged another swing, then another and another. I used my metal hand to knock the strikes to the side when I couldn’t dodge, but the Nova had training. He was always there with a follow up, leaving no opening I could exploit, even though every movement looked like it pained him. The man’s face was twisted in an agonized snarl with every swing he missed, but, to his credit, he didn’t let it get in the way of his desire to kill me.

  Then he stretched his body for a massive two handed chop, the kind only a fool would block if they could help it, so I sprung back once again, only to realize, too late, that the Nova’s big finisher was a feint. My back foot came down on something with a little more give than the metal deck, and it was then that I knew that I’d been played. Something wrapped around my ankle tight. I glanced down to find broken-knee-guy had rejoined the fight.

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  A change in the air was the only warning I had. While my attention had been elsewhere, axe guy had seen his chance. The axe came on as fast as a bullet. It spun through the air, its entirety wreathed in crimson flame, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. There was no time to dodge or block or even think. It slammed into my midsection just above the pelvis with a *FWACK.*

  The fire wasn’t just for show. It burned like a hot brand. Worse, when the axe ripped itself out of me and flew, spinning, back into the big guy’s hand, I got the distinct pleasure of smelling my blood as it boiled.

  You take 25 damage (slashing).

  You take 30 damage (fire).

  You take 15 damage (slashing).

  A scream tore loose from my throat.

  Red suffused my world, pain and Mana Motherfucking Overload overriding my higher thought processes. My knees collapsed, and I redirected my trajectory until I was falling on the attacker wrapped around my leg. I gave him a little squeeze.

  Devouring Grasp [5 MP/sec]

  Create reservoir? Y/N

  Reservoir created: Glyph of Growth(Major)

  I at least had the presence of mind to say Yes this time. My metal fingers dug into the Nova’s well-muscled upper arm until I felt the bone crunch and the pieces grind together. That was just a bonus, though. The spell I’d just Devoured was the real goal. As I watched, the burly dude collapsed like a dying star. He shrank, his skin wrinkling, his muscles deflating, his bones cracking and popping as they reconfigured themselves. Fear blossomed in his eyes along with agony and a hint of… shame?

  I roared in his face. The pain I was feeling and the adrenaline I was riding was just too much not to. Then, using my not insignificant Body score, I picked my now diminished opponent up and flung him bodily at his axe wielding brother. A prompt flashed in front of my vision briefly before my new missile weapon left my grip, but it was gone before I could read it.

  My throw was good, better than good. The shrunken body hit axe-guy in the face just as he was winding up for another throw.

  “Oof!” I heard one or both of them exclaim as they went down together.

  Breathing hard and clutching at my exposed insides, I groaned at how much that little maneuver hurt, but I couldn’t stop. I limped over to the two of them while they were still stunned, and put my prosthetic hand on the still juiced one’s ankle.

  Devouring Grasp [5 MP/sec]

  Create reservoir? Y/N

  Reservoir created: Glyph of Growth(Major)

  He ceased to be a threat, and I was left staring at two different but identical people.

  “Ow!” I yelled down at them indignantly, looking from the two withered creatures on the floor to my open stomach and back again. “Not cool!”

  The part of my brain where I kept my pithy one liners was on break just now.

  The crowd roared with laughter. At least someone was having fun.

  More money changed hands.

  One laugh towered over the rest, cruel, grating, one I recognized. With great effort, I stood up on my tiptoes, grimacing as my abdominal wound protested.

  There… there he was. The leader of this band of axe maniacs was there. The puffed up prick was holding the Marshal security guard against a bulkhead with both hands pressed to the sides of the other Exotic’s head. The guard himself was screaming, while the blond Nova’s sister tugged fervently on the big guy’s arm, trying to get him to stop. The prick was having too much fun to listen.

  They also had their own circle of jeering onlookers.

  I limped forward, sore, tired, pain keeping me from walking properly but not stopping me entirely. When I reached the edge of my circle, I gave the men and women there a look that I hoped encompassed how I felt.

  “Show’s over. Move,” I said.

  The soldiers looked to one another in confusion, one of them even reaching for a weapon he didn’t have. His holster was empty like the others.

  “Move!” I roared, channeling my Dad for the second time in my life.

  They moved. The ones immediately in front of me, at least. I strode forward into the press of bodies until I ran into the backs of the second circle of soldiers. I began to shove them aside.

  A hand came down on my shoulder.

  “Hang on, kid,” a sandpaper baritone whispered in my ear, but I wasn’t in the mood to listen.

  When I kept charging forward, the pressure on my shoulder increased, not enough to stop me, and then whoever it was pulled even harder. Another hand grabbed me on the crook of my arm as well. This time it moved my hand that had been clutching my stomach just enough to cause the wound to flare up anew. That got my attention.

  I rounded on him, snarling, but I stopped short at the sight of him.

  He was a lean, rough looking man with grease paint running down his face in a tigerstripe pattern and stubble on his chin. A captain’s insignia was sewed into his uniform along with a dozen or so medals or maybe charms swinging from separate chains. Now that he had my attention, he leaned in close, giving me a look that reminded me of Sissa, though I didn’t know why.

  “You won your fight, and it was self-defense,” he said in a low tone, pointing at the Nova siblings with his chin. “They’ll figure the beef is settled. You step into this one, though, and you’re going to make an enemy you can’t handle.”

  My jaw worked back and forth, grinding my teeth together, while the screams of the tortured security guard pounded on my sense of calm.

  Who said I couldn’t handle them. I’d handled a whole Constance-damned world of bad. A pack of bullies wasn’t about to stop me from-

  The soldier shook me until I was looking him in the eye again.

  “Kid, they’re going into the Academy and they’re Nova. They can skin you and hang you up to dry in front of everyone here, and it won’t even make the news.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, reaching up and brushing the soldier’s hand off my shoulder.

  “Was already going to put them down, buddy. Now, I’ll enjoy it more,”

  The soldier shook his head. “We’ve already called security, right?” He asked, his head turned slightly to address someone behind him. A figure materialized from the crowd. It was a woman but like none I’d ever seen before. She was a half head taller than the guy in front of me, even with the helmet he was wearing. Her freckled skin, only visible on her face and arms, was slate gray and heavily tattooed with long, solid lines that formed a geometrical pattern with hexagonal rivets on their edges. She was long and lanky, almost unnaturally so, and her eyes were just a touch oversized.

  “They should be on their way. It’s one of their own in trouble, so they won’t dawdle,” she told us like she was reporting on the weather, but her voice was high and clear. “Called them as soon as the others threw down.”

  The rough looking man nodded, satisfied with the report and seeming to think I would be too. “There. No need to get involved,” he said. “Take the win and leave.”

  The security guard’s screams reached a new crescendo, severely undercutting the captain’s sales pitch.

  My mouth worked of its own accord. “Someone has to do something.”

  “Does it have to be you?” the captain asked.

  I turned to see the Marshal’s body twitching and spasming as… his head was being crushed. That had to be it. The body builder clones were all standing around and laughing as the deed was being done.

  “Are you going to do it?” I asked, giving him and his companion level looks.

  “No.”

  “Then get out of my way.”

  The man looked down at my stomach then back up to my face, considered for a moment, then nodded his head in resignation, though the ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lip.

  I barreled through the rest of the crowd until I broke into the open, breathing hard as my wound took up more and more space in my mind.

  “Stop!” I shouted.The only person to take notice was the sister, turning toward me with wide, manic eyes. Then she redoubled her efforts at pulling her brother away. Her mouth moved as if she were speaking to him, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

  I came up behind the first of the goons. It was a smooth process now. I reached out, grabbed his arm and stole his magic. He let out a “Aieeeee,” as he shrunk and collapsed to the floor. The big guy next to him spun around at the sound of distress, but he, too, got to ride Mr. Grippy.

  Devouring Grasp (Magivore) is now level 7.

  Another Reservoir gem dropped to the ground, the previous shattering and evaporating as my System dictated limit of one was reached yet again. I reached out for the next one, who’d actually gone for his weapons before I could put a hand on him.

  “Eron! Look out!” The sister finally screamed to her brother.

  That brought me up short. She was afraid, but not of her brother. She was afraid of me.

  Eron Nova’s face slackened, his sadistic grin melting into a look of confusion, his chiselled features and perfectly arranged blonde hair making him cut an impressive figure even when he was one step away from defeat. Now that I saw him up close, he looked exactly like the others in every way.

  Were they clones? Septouplets?

  Eron dropped the security guard whose eyes, nose, and mouth were leaking blood.

  “Thought I asked you to leave him alone,” I challenged, making sure all involved could hear me. I probably would have been more intimidating if I wasn’t currently holding my insides with my outsides, but I was working with what I had.

  Eron’s gaze shot to the collapsed figures at my feet then back to me. He reached for his axes.

  His sister put an arm out across the bigger Nova’s chest, and to my shock, the big guy stopped, mid-draw of his weapons.

  Then the girl did something I wasn’t expecting. She lunged… not for her brother or myself but for the only standing member of their retinue. Her fingers clutched at the goon’s body, digging into his chest so hard that her fingers sank into the fabric and flesh. He screamed as his body diminished to almost nothing, just as they did when I Consumed their magic. Power just like what I’d leeched out of the others seemed to flow into the sister’s fingertips and up her arms. The veins under her pale skin glowed like cracks in the surface of cooling lava, and her eyes turned a disturbing shade of crimson. The air wavered with heat.

  I blinked, staring down at the shrivelled trio of Exotics in shock.

  “Thanks,” I said, shifting gears to get ready to take on the main threat. Eron took a very cautious step back as one did when backing away from a venomous snake, only his eyes weren’t on me. They were on his sister.

  “Scum.” The sister’s voice was a whisper, but everyone heard it perfectly and heard it for what it was. There was a discordant undertone to her voice, amplified, distorted. It was nails on glass, ripping flesh, beasts lurking in the dark, loathing, and lust all at once. Her face contorted into a maniacal grin

  “Parasite filth. Who gave you permission to speak to me?”

  I may have grossly misread this situation.

  “Uh-” was all I got out before a meter wide geyser of crimson fire slammed into my chest, and I was blasted from my feet. It burned very briefly and burned hot, but the force of it… It was like getting bitch slapped by an angry god.

  You take 95 damage (bludgeoning, fire)

  The last thought that went through my head as my body flew through the air toward the open mouth of the docking bay was whether or not magical fire still burned in a vacuum.

  Hey. Thanks for giving In my Defense a chance. New chapters will be posted Tuesdays and Thursdays, eventually ramping up depending on the amount of interest we can generate here.

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