V S M Crazy, Crazy, Crazy [Unmaking Quest]

Altanis

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The revelation of just why this entire ordeal was so personal for Graham had lent a certain...until then absent quality to things. An urgency, and an actual need to push forward with all due haste. It added a fresh, keen edge to the matter at hand, looming over their collective heads and just waiting to drop if they were too slow.

While Altanis personally may not have cared at all for the fate of those captured by these...super mutants, as the two humans accompanying her had helpfully informed her they were called, it was clear enough that those two cared a great deal. So greatly, in fact, that she hadn't even bothered to waste her breath suggesting they simply ignore them and focus on exterminating their captors. Graham, she knew, would not be satisfied until he had either seen to their rescue or knew their fate for certain either way. Joey...she was quite certain could be coerced into going along with any plan of action put forth — she had certainly been easy enough to read and lead along thus far, after all — but one could only keep someone around with threats and backhanded manipulation for so long.

She was, as much as she hated to admit it...rather stuck. Saving this hapless bunch of fools was the fastest way to ensure she could retain some assistance. Loath as she was to admit she actually needed such assistance...it was unavoidable. She was well aware of how futile it was to scavenge an entire world aimlessly searching for a specific group; having a guide like Graham, familiar with the world and lay of the land as he was, to aid her in finding her targets would be indispensable. The mechanic, however...she was likely to be useless in almost every regard for the actual mission, and her attitude had thus far been only a hair short of unbearable...but there were always other uses she could be put to, in time. For all her infuriating attitude, there was a certain...charm about her, and though Altanis had normally found most humans some measure of repulsive...she could always appreciate an attractive figure. And underneath all that grimy mechanic jumpsuit and jacket, she certainly qualified.

It would only need the right amount of effort and time, and then... Even the thought of it was enough to bring a grin to Altanis's face.

Fantasies and thoughts of the future were probably best saved for more appropriate environs, however. There was more pressing business to tend to, at the moment.

"Is this the place you mentioned before, mister Graham?" she spoke up, sweeping a hand out over the compound before them. "The barracks, prison and armory?"

"Along with what passes for their living quarters, yes," the man wearily confirmed. "We should see to the armory first, then the barracks...ensure we are properly armed and then dispose of the ones capable of fighting."

"Hmm...a sound enough idea, in theory, I suppose." The tactician nodded absently, turning her eyes to peer curiously over the facility.

Ramshackle buildings, built up from scrap and scavenged material around the skeleton and framework of older structures. The overall layout and setup of everything was sensibly thought out. Ample space between buildings, and a well planned use of the rather minimal available space. It had been mentioned on the way up the mountain, she remembered, that it had originally been an observation and communications post. Using the high vantage point of the mountain to keep track of wide stretches and expanses of the desert, and relay useful information between relevant parties. Some number of personnel stayed here in a long-term capacity, to man the equipment and keep tabs on everything, and likely at least a small number of armed and combat-capable individuals as well.

Not all that dissimilar from a fortified watch post, back home... Different building materials used, different means of performing the task, different methods and purposes behind it all, perhaps...but the end results were largely the same. She could at least acknowledge and understand that much. Most likely, however, this place was no longer operating under any such...sensible command. The mannerisms she had witnessed even for such a brief time, and what Graham had revealed to her thus far, spoke volumes about the capabilities of these brutes.

...or, perhaps, to the lack thereof.

Fluid time powers; activate! This takes place before joining this year's DA event.

Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
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Quest: 723/10,000
 

Altanis

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The door to the armory was locked, to the surprise of no one. The door itself was reasonably sturdy; the lock itself was a marvel of resilient engineering. Getting through it under normal circumstances, with the appropriate tools would have likely been quite a chore.

...but these were not normal circumstances.

After observing the door itself for a moment, Altanis simply scoffed. She lifted one hand and with a light gesture of slowly rotating her wrist, the entire lock and handle of the door rattled and jostled before something within clicked softly and the handle twisted to open the door.

"Friggin' showoff," Joey grunted, rolling her eyes.

"Would you have preferred we waste time trying to open it more normally?" the tactician turned her eerily glowing golden gaze onto the mechanic, leering down at her. "Or perhaps that I simply ripped the entire door out, with all the noise it would make?"

"I, uh..." Joey just shuffled her feet, rubbing the back of her neck. "Shutting up now."

"Hmm. A wise idea." Altanis playfully patted the mechanic's head, with a smirk. "Good girl." The resulting scowl and swatting away of her hand brought a hastily stifled laugh out of her. A quick flick of her opposite hand and the door flew open, stopping just shy of slamming into the inside wall.

Graham was quick to head inside, his weary movements picking up significantly in pace. "We should move quickly. Even without any immediate alert from noise or sheer chance, the old alarm systems may still be functional." He disappeared into the darkened interior, only to find the light switch moments later and bathe the interior in a dim, flickering yellow-orange glow.

"Are you looking for something in particular in here?" Altanis asked while ducking her way through the doorway and peering around. "Or simply for something to serve as a weapon?"

Joey was a bit more hesitant to enter, but after a quick worried look over her shoulder she likewise scurried inside and quickly pushed the door closed behind her.

"Anything that will serve as a weapon would suffice in a situation like this. But if my personal possessions still remain here, I would like to recover them." Already the burned man was rummaging through the shelves and bins scattered haphazardly about the room. "A bag of traveling supplies, including my old journals and maps of the desert. A set of body armor. And my weapon of choice."

"Familiarity with one's equipment cannot be overstated." Altanis shrugged, poking through an assortment of rifle magazines tossed into a pile on one shelf. "What exactly is this weapon of yours?"

"A pistol. Handed down to me from my father, hand-customized and modified by his father." Graham's voice went hoarse as he shoved aside a crate of battered firearms. "As much a keepsake as an actual weapon."

"Somehow I get the feeling even if we do find it, it ain't gonna be in the best shape anymore..." Joey muttered as she pushed aside a mostly empty metal barrel with her boot. "Guys around here don't seem like the type to take care of stuff they find."

"No. They don't. That is why I am not even sure my belongings are still here." The burned man let out a weary sigh. "There is every chance they may have simply been thrown out when none of the mutants could use them, or handed out to one of their more human-sized underlings. Or simply broken down for spare parts and extra supplies. Such things can be precious enough for a group as desperate and insane as this one."

"Hmm. I see." Altanis clicked her tongue as she slowly turned in place to look over the room at large. Dusty, grimy and filthy; traces of sand and dirt tracked in and layers of grit and rust blanketing everything. It was, frankly, a revolting sight, as if the place had been made to look as dilapidated, run down and filthy as possible by some twisted, intentional effort. Fitting enough with what had been said about the group inhabiting this place, mind...but enough to sour her expression with clear, openly worn distaste and disgust.

"Might I ask one of you to perhaps enlighten me...as to what exactly a 'pistol' is?" she went on after a moment. "Such things did not exist in my world."

"Like one of those guns the jackasses from before were using," Joey said offhandedly. "But, like...smaller, something you could hold in just one hand, even for somebody my size." She held up one hand over her shoulder, pantomiming a gun with her fingers like a child might. "S'why sometimes people call 'em a handgun."

"A suitable example can be had here..." Graham fished among a footlocker to retrieve something and stood up, holding up a battered pistol. "Of a different kind than my own...but the overall design is similar to get an idea."

"Hmm. Smaller, easier to handle...and to conceal as well, I wager," Altanis murmured while studying it. She held out one hand, gesturing to Graham, before making a 'come hither' gesture with one finger. The gun promptly left his grasp and floated over toward her, hovering at arms' length in front of her. "A sacrifice of overall power, I assume...and room to hold whatever sort of ammunition it might use. In exchange for ease of use and portability."

"More or less." Graham nodded absently. "Compared to larger firearms, they are much easier to handle, particularly in close quarters." He rounded the corner of a row of shelving, and his dried out voice gave a half-choked gasp before he swiftly rushed out of sight.

"Sounds like the noise somebody makes when they find somethin'," Joey remarked, with a hint of amusement to her voice. "Guess I should probably find something that I can use, too...just in case I gotta keep myself safe..."

"You could always simply continue cowering and making aggressive commentary, and leave your protection to myself and mister Graham." Altanis chuckled at that, slowly turning toward the mechanic with a devious grin. "Though you would need to make sure to stay...closer than you have, for that."

Joey just scowled, fighting down a flush of mingled embarrassment and anger. "I'll take my chances with a gun or something, thanks."

Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
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Altanis

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One of the most appalling things that had been discovered within the armory, aside from tis general level of filth and disgust...was the symbol plastered repeatedly over one wall. Every inch of the surface had been covered in messily formed versions of it. Some of them scratched or carved into the metal and stone, some painted, some smeared with what looked disgustingly like blood. Different colors, perhaps, but overall the same general theme of black, red and purple.

An omega symbol.

"The symbol of Darkseid," Graham had helpfully supplied. "Omega. The last letter of an ancient alphabet...and often used as a symbol of the end. The last in any given set of things."

"Hmph... How ridiculously arrogant." Altanis scoffed. "Is this a symbol used by this...Darkseid directly? Or merely by these imbeciles hoping to curry favor with him?"

"I don't know." The burned man tugged the armored vest he had recovered over his head, laboriously buckling it into place. "I doubt anyone really does. But it is a clear symbol of the warped fanaticism those who think themselves on his side have taken to using. Branding it on everything; buildings, clothes, weapons, flags...their own flesh."

"Like some rabid sports fans taken to a whole new level of crazy..." Joey muttered, carefully checking over the shotgun she had found. It was battered and the stock was chipped, but Graham had confirmed that the weapon itself seemed to still be useable. It wasn't anything special, or in particularly great condition, but it would still work without blowing up or anything else equally catastrophic.

"Far worse than that. Most such people are nuisances at best, and would maybe resort to rioting and anger if their team lost." Graham retrieved his pistol from the table before him, carefully checking its condition before sliding a magazine in with weft, well-practiced ease. "But not these. These followers of Darkseid, these...cultists. They won't wait until loss is imminent, or has already happened; they want to make sure every other team loses instead, and start the rioting and destruction ahead of time. Senselessly, with their only target being 'anything living'. Anything not already touched by the influence of this monstrosity they think themselves in the favor of."

"You do seem to know quite a bit about this organization, mister Graham," Altanis spoke up after a few moments of silence. "Despite not knowing all of the details..." She fixed the burned man with a direct, intense stare. "I hope for your sake that this is not some elaborate prelude to a betrayal on your part, and you turn out to be an accomplice of them."

"Caution to such a degree can quickly turn to paranoia, if left to fester," came Graham's response as he turned around from the tale he had used to check his equipment. "I know so much of this group only because I have been imprisoned by them for so long, and they are too foolish to not speak of such things aloud for any and all to hear."

Joey couldn't manage to stifle a snicker, as she nearly dropped her newly acquired weapon. "....yeah, that actually does sound like something these idiots would do, alright. They aren't exactly the sharpest knives in the tool shed."

"....hmph. Very well, then," Altanis growled. Her suspicions had not been allayed in the slightest by Graham's words, even as much sense as they made. She knew, of course, that it was all too likely for a prisoner to gain a startling amount of insight and knowledge of their captors if they paid enough attention, or their captors were dim-witted enough to be so free and loose with their words. It had been a constant fact, both regrettably among her own forces in the past as well as among those of her enemies. It made sense, and could have easily ended the entire suspicion then and there...

...but it was almost too convenient an explanation.

That he had somehow been kept here among these cultists for such a length of time as he claimed, and yet remained so physically whole and intact, and relatively strong and capable... Something about it didn't feel right. Either his willpower was worthy of the most storied heroes of legend, or there was more to this entire thing than he was letting on. Both options were problematic, but for entirely different reasons.

"Here." The burned man approached her, holding out a strange-looking gem. "This seems like the sort of thing best kept by you. It isn't any kind of weapon or technology I'm familiar with...but it radiates the same sort of feeling I've often felt from some types of magic that has been worked in my presence."

"Hmm..." Altanis held out her hand to take the odd gem, as it floated over to alight in her upturned palm. Shaped like a teardrop, flawlessly cut from gemstone as smooth as glass. There was a deep and unsettling feeling of gut-churning sorrow and grief radiating out from it, and yet...a flickering light within it giving off a profound, unnatural heat. as if it were on fire. There was a sense of strength within it...though of what kind she couldn't quite put her finger on at the moment.

"Certainly a most curious thing to find in a place like this," she murmured, studying the gem intently. "Was it among the weapons and other such supplies?"

"No. It is from among my personal possessions." Graham slung an old, worn bag over his shoulder, hefting the weight awkwardly to try and settle it into place. "An item I found during my travels among the sand...simply laying there, after I awoke from a night of uneasy rest."

"Heck are y'all talkin' about over here now?" Joey approached with confused look, a somewhat over-large backpack slung over her shoulders as she rested her newly-acquired shotgun against the ground like some improvised walking stick. "Found something else useful in here?"

"Useful, yes...perhaps so." Altanis shrugged dismissively, and handed the gem off to the mechanic. "Here, miss Blaese. Be a dear and hold onto this for me, won't you?"

"Huh. Really? Not afraid I'm gonna run off with it or something?" Even after saying as much, Joey still took it without a second thought.

"I have the utmost faith you will do no such thing," the tactician said simply, and simply grinned at the woman. "I have a clear enough picture of how you think, now. And it tells me you won't be going anywhere, anytime soon."

There was only the faintest tinge of a pink flush to the mechanic's face she did her best to disguise with a quick, disgruntled 'pfffthbt' noise as she looked away. "Yeah, yeah, whatever..." She stuffed the gem into a pocket of her backpack. "We done here yet?"

"Yes. We have gathered what we came here for," Graham spoke up immediately. "We should move quickly, and find where they have put their captives."

"Really, mister Graham...?" Altanis murmured. "Just a short time ago you said it would be better for us to dispose of those capable of fighting before looking to their rescue. Have you had a change of heart so quickly?"

The burned man's eyes narrowed sharply into a stern, unblinking stare. "We will do both, if need be. But if the ones that must be rescued are not here, then there is no need for us to fight at all, and we can—"

"No." Altanis's voice cut in like a knife, so suddenly and sharply that even Graham recoiled slightly. "It was our agreement at the outset that we would eliminate each and everyone of these cultists and mindless brutes. Only if we found your people somewhere along the way while doing so would we bother saving them."

"....tch. Hate to admit it, but she's kinda right," Joey begrudgingly spoke up, through gritted teeth. "That was what y'all agreed to."

Graham's composure returned after only a second, and the anger radiating off of his gaze was an almost tangible thing. "Fine, then. We will dispose of the cultists gathered here. But if I identify someone as being one we are to rescue, then you will devote all of your ability to keeping them safe while we handle the others."

The hellspawn's eyes lit up with a fierce shine, her lips splitting to bare her teeth in a snarl. "You have the audacity to give me orders, human?" Her voice came out in a venom-filled growl. A sharp hiss, and she turned aside, knocking over a shelf and embedding much of its contents into the nearby wall with a swipe of her arm and an errant wave of psychic force. "Such an affront will not be forgotten. Mark my words."

And she stormed toward the door, which was practically ripped off of its hinges before she even reached it.

Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
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Quest: 3,243/10,000
 

Altanis

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The door flew open with a resounding crash, banging against the exterior wall. For a moment there was only a haze of dust and blinding sunlight, before the looming silhouette finally came into view. One of those 'super mutants' that laired on the mountain, judging from the bulk.

"You're not supposed to be here!" it bellowed, in a voice that grew progressively louder and more angry with nearly every word. Its owner stomped inside, heaving and forcing itself through the doorway, and leered angrily at the three unwanted guests. Beady little eyes gleamed from behind ridiculous heart-shaped sunglasses, as they flicked quickly from one person to the next as if trying to stare at all of them at once. "You're those idiots we had locked up in the shed...how in the hell did you get out?!"

"Did you honestly think that such a flimsy little shack could keep me contained?" Altanis snarled. "I've torn entire fortresses apart, you miserable cretin, that ridiculous little shed of yours may as well have been utterly non-existent! Now remove yourself from my sight, if you want to hold onto your life for another—"

The super mutant merely let out a noise somewhere between an angry cat and a bellowing ox, as it reached over one shoulder and produced an absolutely colossal sledgehammer. "That's enough out of you!" And it surged forward with an alarming quickness for something of its tremendous bulk, the massive maul swinging about as if it were made of paper.

There was a terrific crashing, booming noise as the intended deathblow was stopped cold, mere inches from the hellspawn's head. Surrounded by a dim, swirling cloud of red fog, it hung suspended in the air, the super mutant's arms heaving and trembling and straining against the unseen force.

"And so your death warrant is signed," the demon hissed.

Before another word could be spoke, there was a soft, sharp squelching noise. Like a knife slicing through soft fruit in one clean stroke. The enraged mutant held out its efforts to overpower the invisible obstruction for a moment...before there was a sudden gushing of blood, as a thick spray suddenly fountained out of the behemoth's arms just below the shoulders. The bulging muscles went wild, seizing and contracting and spasming as they separated with a clean line and slowly the severed limbs fell away.

Like a surprised big, and with a similar noise, the disarmed mutant jumped back, flailing its newfound stumps as it poured its lifeblood all over the entryway to the armory, shrieking and screaming in something between confusion and fury.

Joshua Graham's face was impassive and cold as he stared at the gory display, one hand tightly clutching his reclaimed pistol.

The mechanic, Joey, recoiled and her face went green as she averted her eyes and covered her mouth with one gloved hand.

Altanis stepped forward, the massive hammer still suspended in the air beside her, and casually gestured with one hand as the great thing spun around to let its haft come to rest gently in her waiting grasp. It was far too heavy for her to properly wield with her own strength, but she had her mind for that. The entire thing lit up in that same hazy swirl of red miasma, as she hefted it up and over her head.

"You should have simply stood aside and let your better pass," she said coldly. "You're fifteen thousand years too young and ignorant to threaten me."

"You...you moron!" the mutant howled at her, regaining its composure. "You're no better than those stupid dumb-dumbs! Thinking you're so high and mighty and special, and not understanding your place!" it snarled, the ridiculous glasses dislodging to hang crazily from one ear. Yellowed teeth gnashed and spittle flew as the hulking monster surged forward in a blind fury. "Not even able to see that you'd be better off and safer if you just submitted to us! To Darkseid!"

There was a horrendous noise of shattering stone and a high-pitched shrieking yell as the massive sledgehammer came down in a crushing arc, utterly pulverizing one of the mutant's legs and the floor below it into an oily smear of stone fragments, splinters of bone and an ugly blue-red paste of smushed super mutant flesh and blood.

The ugly brute toppled over onto the ground, its remaining leg not able to support its bulk in mid-charge. Despite the crippling injury, the brute seemed only further enraged and determined. "You should just...give up!"

Altanis's eyes flashed darkly. "You should know your own place, before you demand others do the same." She raised the maul again. "Luckily, you have the option of a rare privilege: no longer needing to live with your own ignorance. Tell me where you have taken these ppor, wayward souls, and I will make this mercifully quick."

The wounded mutant just rolled over onto its front, flopping and twitching about as it forced its one remaining knee under itself and then surged upward into a one-legged hobble. "Like I would tell you dumb-dumbs anything!" it sneered, with what was likely supposed to be a smile that its mutated, oversized rictus failed to let through. "They're out of my hands now! Out of your hands now! We took them somewhere where they'll be useful. dumb-dumbs or not!"

Altanis snarled, her eyes narrowing to slits as she lashed out with the maul. The super mutant only laughed; a maddened, hoarse bellowing noise that persisted even through the horrendous crunching smashing impact to its chest from the oversized hammer. Struck into and against the wall, the bloodied brute continued to laugh and let out choked, rasping bellows of defiance until its chest was entirely crushed and caved in, leaving it only able to emit choked, gurgling rasps.

"The rest of this animal's worthless underlings will have heard that nonsense," the demon snapped as she let the bloodied, twisted remains of the maul drop to the floor with a heavy clang. "Let us move on and deal with them before they all come rushing us at once."

"After we finish this one off." Graham stepped forward, his pistol raised and leveled squarely at the dying mutant. "Though it was our enemy, it would be inhumane to leave it to suffer and slowly die in this way."

"Do as you wish, then," the centaur snapped and stormed her way out the open doorway.

Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
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Altanis

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As Altanis stepped out of the doorway into the blinding sunlight, three quick gunshots sounded behind her.

Joey Blaese came staggering out, nearly dropping to her knees with a violent heave and a retching noise. "That was really fuckin' unnecessary!" she finally managed to get out, in a half-choked wheeze.

"Grim and messy, perhaps. But better than the alternative." Joshua Graham emerged much more calmly from the doorway, smoking gun held down at his side. "Even corrupted and mad as it was, it would have been cruel to leave a living creature to slowly suffer and die from its injuries."

"I meant the fact you shot it in its fucking eyes!" the mechanic wailed, shivering slightly. "And then you just....was that third shot even necessary at that point?!"

"These mutants are...extremely tough and hardy. Notoriously difficult to kill." Graham adjusted the straps of his bag over his shoulder. "It's better to be excessive when dealing with them."

"Are you quite finished?" Altanis growled, not even bothering to turn back and look at her two unlikely allies as she started to stalk off further into the compound. "We have more important business to deal with than simply standing around and blathering about how resilient our enemies are."

There came a sudden shouting noise, and a scattering of gunfire hit the ground and walls around them. "You are unfortunately, correct," the burned man rasped, lunging into action. Several quick, loping strides and a diving roll later saw him come to rest in a crouch, one shoulder pressed against what had once been part of a building's exterior wall. While it was only a crumbling mess, it was better than being out in the open.

He tossed his bag of supplies aside, taking his gun in both hands, and quickly peeked out around the corner of the wall. His brief glance earned him a quick count of at least a dozen, and likely more, of the assorted crazies and fools that called this mountaintop 'facility' their home. A bullet hitting the stone uncomfortably close to his face made him jerk back into cover.

Joey Blaese was less coordinated and swift to react to the sudden hostility. Her gut reaction was a simple strangled yelp and then a blind dive to the ground. Her initial surprise and shock left her along with most of the air in her lungs from the painful impact with the ground, and she was able to quickly crawl away from where she lay to scurry behind the wreck of an old car. Bullets pinged and ricocheted off the metal, but she seemed safe enough for the moment.

Altanis, meanwhile, didn't so much as move from where she stood. She turned an almost entirely disinterested stare toward their attackers as gunfire peppered the ground around her ricocheted and bounced off her psychic defenses. Sparks and fragments of metal went up as each shot hit the invisible force and was turned away. It only took a single moment of the attack for her to realize that, if the ones actually using these weapons were more skilled, and could accurately land their shots...she would have been in serious trouble.

Their current assault was little more than a wild, suppressive volley, however. Spraying out a storm of bullets in the hopes that with enough shots fired, they would have to hit something eventually. No marksmen among them, just crazed and deranged fools; they knew how to use their weapons in only the same way that a fresh recruit after a day of training knew how to use his sword. 'Point this end at enemy'.

It was pathetic, it was hilarious, and it was exactly what she had expected.

When she had seen their assault on the burly green monstrosity of a mechanic the other day, she had already guessed as much. The few with melee weapons had been far more dangerous and skilled, while those with these...firearms? They were no less dangerous, certainly, but their accuracy and skill was...lacking, at best.

The tactician turned to face them directly, and began to advance forward. Her arms rested loosely folded against her chest, as if she were utterly and entirely at peace with everything. Cluelessly ignorant and unbothered by the hail of death peppering and tearing apart the ground and air around her. Only her eyes, fixated with an unblinking gaze on the shrouded and hooded forms of the cultists ahead of her, and gleaming like molten gold, gave any indication at all that she was not simply out for an oblivious walk through the gunfire.

The closer she advanced, the more the fire collectively started to focus on her, leaving Graham and Joey more freedom to move. They quickly darted out from cover, scrambling forward and closer, sliding and rolling into further cover whenever a stray bullet came their way. Quick shots of return fire, both from the burned man's pistol and the mechanic's pilfered shotgun, soon sent the mass of robed lunatics shuffling and diving for cover of their own.

The momentary break in fire, as they dove into cover and spent precious seconds reloading, was the opening Altanis needed. Her lips curled up in a faint smirk, and with without even a blink or gesture to signal it, she let loose rippling waves of telekinetic force. They tore through and splintered apart the asphalt, stone and sand before her and explosively rupturing the entire area into a massive storm of debris that came crashing down on the hapless fools before her and burying them under the storm.


Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
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Altanis

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The few humans scattered among the scattered and buried lot were slow to extricate themselves, but the hulking mutants seemed to have been barely fazed by it all. Recovering from the knockdown, they bulldozed through the sand and rock like it was nothing to regain their feet, their general level of 'mildly rankled at everything' to 'actually furious at something in particular'.

Some of them grasped for their fallen firearms, but more of them took their melee implements into hand and surged forward toward the sneering centaur.

The first of the geniuses who opted for melee was swiftly stalled by several concentrated shots from Graham and a scattering of fire from Joey, before its head was crushed into paste by a psychic vice. His corpse toppled down to the ground in a heap, tripping up one of his fellow cultists, but not impeding the others.

Their attack was....less than effective, in the end. A more coordinated and efficient group, with more than delusional devotion and maddening conviction, might have fared far better. But even with their numerical advantage, only two or three among the scattered cultists actually knew how to fight properly. Those few were the last to fall, but they alone couldn't turn the tide. It was not an easy fight, with the frenetic and feverish energy suffusing the cultists pushing them long past the point where any rational man would have simply given up or run away.

Even when it began to horribly and obviously turn against them. Even when they ran out of ammunition and they had to resort to knives and blades and whatever they could grab from nearby. Even when the demonic centaur was in their midst, looming over them and tearing them limb from limb with psionic might.

They didn't give up, or ask for mercy, or so much as flinch in the face of certain death. It was almost admirable...if it wasn't so disturbing.

"Pitiful..." Altanis hissed under her breath, tossing aside the last of them as the life in his eyes finally sputtered out. "For all their frenzy and energy, they fight little better than common peasants."

"They are driven by madness and a desperate delusion that their actions might see them spared." Graham's voice had gone hard and distant again, his pale blue eyes cold and grim as he carefully reloaded his pistol. "They think that by so fervently showing their devotion, by serving their 'god' so faithfully and earnestly, he will spare them from his wrath when he fully consumes the worlds."

"Sounds to me like they're just a buncha wackjobs with too many screws loose," Joey muttered. Her face was pale, and she clutched her looted shotgun in trembling hands. "Somebody like that....don't seem the type to be grateful for some sickos doing part of his job for him."

"But we don't know that for sure," Graham said quietly. "He may very well view their contributions favorably, and spare them. Perhaps he will simply crush them along with everything else. Maybe he will even take affront to their 'worship', and see to their extermination first." Checking his gun for a moment, he nodded and slowly holstered it. "Only he knows, and I don't think it wise to try and ask him."

Joey shuddered, quickly shaking her head. "Y-Yeah, I...I get you. Let's not think about that, okay?"

"Whether or not their ridiculous antics would have seen them spared or not," Altanis cut in sharply. "It doesn't matter now. They seem to have come down with a critical case of...mortality, before such a thing could come to fruition one way or another."

"....grim, but not incorrect." Graham sighed wearily. "They will never have to worry about whether they were correct or not."

"So, like..." Joey fidgeted in place. "What do we do now? That was all of them, right?"

"Now...we should scour this place, and find if they have any other prisoners here." Graham turned to look over the remains of the facility. "Or if not, any clues as to where they were sent. There must be something here."

"Likely left lying about in some ridiculously unexpected place, no doubt," Altanis snorted. "Fools of this sort are rarely the type to be properly cautious with their reports and important documents. Any such information will not be difficult to find."

"Well then let's fucking hurry and find it!" Joey snapped irritably, rubbing at her eyes with one hand. "I wanna get out of this place already..."


Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
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Altanis

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Their search, as they set to it, was frustrating and mostly fruitless. While the small gaggle of humans who had been here were at least sane and intelligent enough to still manage simple tasks like 'writing intelligibly', the same could not be said for the super mutants. Everything they touched or had contact with seemed to have become a ruined, destroyed mess to the point it was easy enough to tell where they had been at a mere glance.

The 'bunk' areas in particular had turned out to be utter dens of filth and disgust. Beyond the simply lack of cleanliness and an overpowering stink of sweat and mildew, there were discarded portions of food and rotting meat left strewn about, and a general profound lack of awareness and intelligence in simple care or maintenance. It was an utterly revolting and sickening sight to behold, and even Altanis was quick to excuse herself and her two momentary allies from it, and set to destroying it entirely in a deliberate fire.

The other structures proved somewhat more...useful, however. Only the most outwardly deranged or physically robust of the human sorts here had actually laired with the mutants. The rest had kept to themselves, in their own areas and other buildings they'd hastily cobbled together from the other rubble on the mountaintop and wreckage they'd scavenged from further down the path and in the surrounding deserts. All of it was simple and relatively shoddy, but surprisingly sturdy, reinforced with something resembling magic and a vile black sludge. In one of them there was even a flowerpot, overflowing with nearly six foot long thorny vines and a central bulb not dissimilar to a venus flytrap...were it not for its eerily human-like teeth, gnashing and gnawing wetly at the air.

A sudden squealing noise and burst of movement when Joey got too close had almost cost the mechanic an arm, and had seen the entire building wind up flattened after she had scampered out.

There were many scattered notes and trinkets about. Crude little things fashioned in the shape of many symbols relevant to the cultists' warped point of view. Useless junk, al of it, with no more worth than the material it was made out of. The scribbles and notes, however...were more relevant. Surprisingly detailed listings and records, of supply gathering this and non-believer capturing that, of expanding the base down into the mountain itself and sending off recent 'converts' to a more centralized safehouse location to be directed where they could be more useful.

All of it undoubtedly useful information to have, especially to the right seekers. However, there was just one problem...none of it actually had anything resembling directions. All of it was vague at best, or simply had rambling mentions of 'the other place' or 'the main base' or 'the heart'. Things that the writer, and whoever the notes were for, clearly knew. An outsider, though, would get almost nothing from reading them.

They had even discovered a surprisingly robust network of computer terminals and hardware, up in the communications room. All of it fairly old, and the entire place was just as trashed and messy as most everywhere else, but cursory examinations had turned up that all of the equipment was working, at least. They didn't spare the time to try and get anything out of it though; the technology was utterly beyond the ken of the centaur, and neither Joey nor Graham wanted to spend any more time than necessary trying to gain access to them.

"Well this is all useless," Joey grumbled after several hours of effort. She swept off her had and ran a hand through her hair, shaking it out. "Spent all damn day here and didn't find a single useful thing. Any more bright ideas?"

Altanis folded her arms over her chest and slowly let her eyes drift closed. One fingertip idly drummed on her opposing bicep, as she let her mind start to race and deliberate over the things they'd found here so far. Most of it was rather useless to them in their objective of finding out just where they should go next...where this centralized location for their little cult was.

It wasn't all useless, however. There were several little key things tucked away in there. The frequency of which they went out to scavenge or buy more supplies to stockpile here...the number of opposition they had encountered and dealt with earlier in the day...the scribbled mentions of expanding this mountaintop base...

Slowly, a grin crawled onto the tactician's face. "I believe I have a suitable plan of action..." she murmured, as one eye cracked open, peering down at her bandage-swathed ally. "Provided that mister Graham has no objections to it...I propose we simply wait here, for a day or so. Those we fought earlier were not all that lair here. Even counting the losses you mentioned from the fight to capture us, the numbers do not add up to the quick count I was able to make of their total forces at the gate."

Joey blinked. "You...what?" she practically squawked, staring at the centaur incredulously. "You were able to count them, while all that was going on?! No, wait, forget that — you were able to remember that, and count these fucks—" She gestured wildly toward the remains of the group they had fought off earlier in the day. "—and somehow come up with 'oh yeah the numbers just don't match', and expect us to believe it?!"

Altanis lazily and slowly shut her eyes, with an exasperated sigh. "Yes, my dear little firebrand, I do expect you to believe it." Her words were quiet and soft, and with a surprisingly gentle tone that was starkly at odds with her entire demeanor previously. She smiled faintly, barely an upward curl of the corners of her mouth, as she opened her eyes and cast her gaze down on the mechanic. "I also counted the number of sleeping areas here, while we were searching the compound." There was a dim glow in her eyes, highlighted and cast into stark relief in the light of the fading sun. "The numbers simply do not add up."

Joey visibly flinched, shivering and trembling as she pointedly looked away. As unnerving and frightening as it might have been when the horse-woman acted all high and mighty and angry...seeing her all quiet and gentle and faux-sweet like that? It sent chills down the mechanic's spine for an entirely different reason, making her reflexively clutch at her chest, over her heart. A deep-rooted, paranoid "you're safe, but you're in danger" reaction.

And not only did she not understand that conflicting gut-reaction, she had no idea why she even had it to begin with.

Slowly, the centaur plodded forward, unfurling one arm to bring her hand to gently rest on the mechanic's head and gently ruffle her hair. "There, there, now," she said soothingly, her words positively dripping with an almost poisonous level of sweetness. "You don't need to worry. We all miss things sometimes."

The mechanic hunched her shoulders, trying to ignore the tingling shiver that ran down her spine, and left her absolutely covered in goosebumps. "Y-Yeah...sure," she mumbled, her words coming out in barely more than a squeak.

Things descended into an uncomfortable silence then, until finally, Joshua Graham spoke up again. "....regarding the matter at hand," he said quietly. "I suspect you are right, in that the ones we disposed of here are not all of them. What does that have to do with your plan?"

"Ah, yes... That matter is quite simple." Altanis smirked. "We will await their inevitable return, and when they come back...we will make them divulge the information we are after here. Their willingness to do so, along with their knowledge or intention...will not be required."

For several seconds, Graham simply stared back at her with an unblinking, unreadable gaze. ".....I think I understand what you mean. Observe them and see what they do...and if they let anything slip, or reveal their plans?"

"Correct, mister Graham," the tactician confirmed. "If they fail to do so...then we will simply capture one of them alive and convince them to talk."

Graham looked away, his bandaged fingers curling tightly into fists. "Fine, then... I don't enjoy such work, but when done for a good cause...I can stomach it, I suppose."

"You two are really fuckin dark, you know...?" Joey whispered, shivering again as she took several quick steps away from them. "You can handle the...'convincing' on your own, leave me out of that."


Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
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Altanis

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They wasted little time in getting set to await the return of their quarry. There were precious few places that could be called 'pleasant', but they sufficed by settling down in the communications room. There was still work to be done here while they waited, after all. They had been in a hurry before, during their search, and hadn't bothered to devote more than a few frustrated minutes to the computers in the office area. Now, though...

Altanis would tend to the matter of hiding the assorted corpses and cleaning up the mess of the battle outside, while Joey and Joshua would see to the business of getting through the computers' security and gaining access to whatever information they had.

It took well into the night for the tactician to finally manage to get all the bodies swept aside and tucked deep into freshly dug graves, even with her psychic might. Dealing with so many of them was of little consequence, but clearing away the mess of blood and signs of battle was another matter altogether. It was only the already ruined state of the facility, unkempt and downtrodden and made mostly of scrap and debris, that gave any chance to hide so much carnage at all.

Clever eyes among the returning group might still spot something amiss, she knew. It would similarly be quite a surprise if any of them didn't notice the sudden lack of their fellow cultists. Suddenly going from a dozen and more to none at all...only a few of them had been scheduled to go and do anything outside of this little base today, so it was bound to catch attention.

It was also bound to make them suspicious and even more paranoid. With any luck, that paranoia would make exactly the opening that she needed to get exactly what she was after out of them.

When she finally returned to the comms room, she found the mechanic sound asleep, slumped over in a chair at one of the desks. The computer beside her was on, and had at least had its basic login cracked to access its files.

"She did most of the work here," Graham spoke up from where he sat at another one, carefully and slowly clicking away at the keyboard. "I've never been overly fond of computers...as much as they're prevalent in certain parts of not only this world, but the Crossroads at large. I know how to use them, but only for simple tasks..." He grunted slightly, his typing momentarily growing more intense and forceful. "...it was only thanks to miss Blaese's guidance and instruction that I was able to figure out how to work around the security on these terminals at all."

"Ah, so she is adept at something besides being a sassy little firecracker after all," Altanis mused.

"She has survived to adulthood on this world, away from the major cities and 'safe' areas," the man said bluntly. "That in and of itself speaks to no small amount of tenacity and skill. You shouldn't be so quick to dismiss her.."

"Dismiss her?" The tactician paced fully into the room, picking her way carefully around the detritus still littering the floor. "I would never, mister Graham."

"Your treatment of her thus far has seemed to suggest otherwise," the burned man said softly, as he finished at the terminal he sat at. Pushing his chair back, he turned around to face the horse-woman directly, resting his elbows on his knees. "You continue to intentionally talk down to her, and try to antagonize her, and treat her like a child." He blinked once. "If that isn't dismissing her, then what would you call it?"

"I suppose you would think I treat her far too harshly, yes..." Altanis stopped as she neared the sleeping mechanic, looking down at her. "....I admire her attitude," she murmured softly, reaching a hand down to gently brush the woman's hair back and away from her face. "That fiery temper, and willingness to stand up to something much greater than her, or do something incredibly dangerous and risky just because it might help someone. It reminds me of...others I have known. Even though they were cowards, they were capable and skilled, and wouldn't compromise or run away from something just because it was dangerous. Especially if someone else was at risk."

"And you treated them as you have been treating her," Graham said quietly. "The taunting and teasing born of long camaraderie." His pale blue eyes roved over the tactician searchingly. "....perhaps there is more to you than immediately meets the eye. With your actions of late...I had begun to think of you as little more than a petty villain."

That made the centaur snort derisively, and turn away from the mechanic abruptly. "Do not misunderstand, mister Graham. This does not mean I am a 'good person' merely crushed under the weight of loneliness and loss of old friends, and left bitter and cruel as a result...that would require friends to have lost, and I had no such things."

"And which side of this conversation are you trying to convince of that?"

The question was a simple one, but it struck a chord somewhere deep within Altanis and made her visibly recoil in shock. Her eyes flew open wide, and for a moment she was certain she felt her hearts stop beating. "Y-You...dare..." she ground out, in a breathless snarl.

The burned man just stared back at her, unblinking, as he sat in silence.

Shaking with intermingled rage and disgust, Altanis wrenched her gaze away and forced herself to focus on other things. The information now available on these computers, for one...and the amount of time still remaining before they could pounce on whatever poor souls came stumbling back to this damnable base.

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The information they managed to unearth from their limited access to the computer logs was...if anything, even less useful than their search of the compound itself had been. Dozens and dozens of files, with pages upon digital pages of insane, deranged drivel. Several different iterations and attempted books worth of hastily composed and written 'scripture', about this and that relating to the coming of their lord Darkseid and how best to be of use to Him, and earn his mercy and be spared...

Almost amusing, with the painfully apparent undercurrents of desperation and weak hope that what they were writing was all true.

There was, however, one particular file they discovered of some note. Identical, and repeated, upon every terminal there. A text log of a far more composed, orderly and wisely documented outline and passage of scripture and instructions. It had been accessed many times, more than every other file on some terminals combined, and saw frequent modification and updates. Equal parts digital journal, holy book, and book of laws for the cult.

Every change to it was made by one of two specific individuals, as well.

Even after several more hours, when Graham retired for the night to rest, Altanis remained up and alert, intently reading through and scouring every last word of the entire mess of files. Even in spite of the madness and frantic energy around much of it, it was...enlightening. Misspellings and mistakes all, every individual seemed to have their own takes on things. Many of them were from all over the world, and some even from beyond it, driven here in desperation when the unmaking had come to their worlds, and in their devastated mindset they had turned to trying to appease Darkseid rather than escape his wrath.

The poor, the hopeless, the broken...right alongside and in concert with the rich and the powerful. In its own distorted, maddening and self-destructive way, it was almost a sort of harmony.

It was of course utterly ridiculous, and as she was quick to learn from her time reading the actual organized books by what she assumed the leaders of this particular branch...they were all kept in line and together mostly out of something between intimidation, indoctrination, and stoking of their combined fears and anger. If they were ever allowed to think for themselves, or realize the true folly of their actions...this entire 'cult' would tear itself apart overnight.

Perhaps even a little tidbit like that could be a weapon in its own right, against future splinters of this cult...

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The night seemed to pass in a blur, after diving so fully into the deranged digital babbling laid out within the cultists' logs and files. There were some small passages here and there which were amusing, and an unfortunately even smaller number which were of actual use, but all in all it wasn't what could be called a waste by any means.

Even had there been nothing of any tangible use, the entire experience would have provided a very...unique, and thorough look into the mindset of this group, and likely others as well. The emails and correspondence with the cult splinters on entire other worlds were particularly telling — even in spite of the differences in environment, and the completely different locales and cultures the different shards and fractions were built into and around...they all shared the same sort of delusion, desperate, violent hope.

Hope that their 'devotion' would be seen and heard, and they would be spared.

As the sun began to rise, and the mechanic stirred from her sleep, Altanis immediately pounced upon her for assistance and they set to making copies of the more useful bits of information and files, onto a salvaged tabled from within the facility's damaged (but thankfully still functional) electronics stockpiles. It would no doubt be a useful reference, in the future.

They hadn't even finished when the commotion outside started. The sound of many voices calling out loudly, tiredly, demanding to know where the hell everyone was. Why wasn't anyone at the gates, or out and about doing anything, or keeping watch over the prisoners or back entrance or any number of other things. It was all very telling as to their mindset, that they would just openly shout so many things for anyone and everyone within earshot to hear.

"It seems as if our plans will be even easier than anticipated..." Altanis murmured. "Miss Blaese...wake up Graham, won't you? I'll go tend to our guests outside."

"Huh? Oh, uh...yeah, sure..." Joey mumbled tiredly, rubbing at her eyes. "You sure, though...? Sounds like there's a lot of 'em out there."

"I don't intend to deal with them...violently." The tactician grinned coldly. "Don't worry yourself." And she swept toward the doorway, slowly pushed it open before her and quietly crept outside.

The frenzy of activity there was evident, the shouting no longer muffled by walls and now mingled with the stomping and thudding of footsteps running here and there and everywhere. Many more of them than she had initially suspected, running about here and there and searching for any sign of anyone.

It wasn't until someone happened into the armory, and then the utterly demolished building where the plant had been that an alarm was raised. Altanis cursed silently; try as she might, there was little she had been able to do regarding taking care of those particular scenes. The fact they hadn't been discovered immediately was certainly a surprise, but the absolute frenzy it send everyone into an even bigger one.

Their already manic energy went into overdrive, and they suddenly became much more alert and focused. Their previous exhaustion from a long day and night's "work" vanished in the blink of an eye, and they grasped for weapons and tools and set about quickly combing and scouring the entire facility for anything else out of place.

The tactician cursed again, quickly ducking away from her hiding place. "This level of critical thinking and awareness wasn't expected..." she seethed quietly, mentally scolding and berating herself. She had assumed that the unhinged devotion and mania they were toiling under would have dulled their senses and left them easier targets for simple tricks and subterfuge. That they could just be tricked and led along right where she wanted like a cat with a string.

"This complicates things."


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Altanis

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With a flick of one hand, Altanis lashed out with a telekinetic tether, grabbing hold of a support beam in one of the ramshackle structures on the opposite side of the cultist's little facility, and then wrenched on it. There was a groaning of metal and snapping wood, as one side of the building came tumbling down with a horrendous crashing noise and plume of sand and dust.

The shouting and screaming of many voices erupted after, as boots went storming toward the commotion.

Altanis bolted from her hiding place, dashing through the compound and covering a great deal of ground until she quickly ducked back into hiding behind another building. A grin split her face, as she set her sights on another building, and repeated the same tactic. Then on another, and another, each time darting to a new place and vantage point.

The organized frenzy of the cultists kept them from truly panicking, but they quickly grew frazzled and confused, leaving them at a loss, until one eventually rose her voice above the others. "Enough! Get the prisoners out of here and take them down below, before whoever these heathens are damage our lord's gifts!"

The others were quick to comply, with only the most cursory of attempted disagreements and arguments. The frenetic energy and activity turned toward the communications room itself, and for a moment Altanis was worried...at least until they stormed around back and practically kicked down the doors to the basement level. Down into the darkness they went, emerging moments later with a series of bound and struggling individuals, which they manhandled and 'escorted' along through the ruined compound and toward the armory, disappearing inside of it.

Several minutes went by...then several more... The cultists and their prisoners did not emerge again.

"Curious, indeed..." Altanis murmured, slowly stepping out of cover, and quickly returning to the upper level of the comms room. Throwing the door open, she stuck her head through. "Mister Graham. Miss Blaese. I believe I have found the location of our hosts' secret chambers...and where they are keeping their 'treasure'."

Joey had already hopped up to her feet in surprise as the door was thrown open, but now she seemed even more taken aback. "Whoa, wait, what, you mean they actually have some kinda secret base under their evil mountaintop base?" She snorted. "I thought that was just them being crazy and rambling on about stuff!"

Graham was on his feet in a flash, his gun already drawn. "If we know where they are, then we should go and finish this. Now."

"We are in agreement, mister Graham... Let us not waste any more time." And she jerked her head to one side. "They headed into the armory, when they retrieved their newest captives. Let us go search for the hidden entrance, shall we?"


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Altanis

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Back into the armory they went, and quickly set to scouring every inch of it for anything even slightly out of place. There were a few things amiss, knocked astray by what Altanis assumed as the struggling of captives as they were dragged through. It seemed to be leading toward the far wall, where there was...

...nothing. So sign of a single thing out of place, from what Altanis's memory told her. "Blast it all. There must be something here, somewhere..." she snarled.

"If there is no obvious sign, then we must look for less obvious one." Joshua Graham slowly holstered his pistol, and stepped forward, lowering himself down to kneel and gently brush his fingers along the floor.

Carefully and methodically, the burned man crept along, lightly feeling along and occasionally knocking, tapping, pushing and pulling at things various things. The floor, shelves, the seams near the wall, various tools lined and piled up. It took him well over a minute, but eventually he came to a stop, his blue eyes narrowing into a squinting glare.

He leaned forward, peering at something intently, before dropping entirely to his chest and placing one ear down to the floor before tapping on the floor with his knuckles. "And there it is...there is the secret," he finally spoke up again. "There is indeed something below us, and the entrance is either right here, or somewhere very near by."

"Riiiight..." Joey muttered. "And you, uh, know that how, exactly? You some kinda secret...floor whisperer or something, now?"

With a quiet grunt, Graham slowly rose back to his feet. "Listen carefully." He took a few paces, before he raised one leg and brought the heel of his boot down on the floor several times, producing the expected solid thump.

"Yeah, that's...that's the floor, alright," the mechanic scratched the back of her head.

"Ah...yes, I see." Altanis smirked, with a soft chuckle. "Something so simple...but it is often an effective method."

Graham stepped back to where he had risen from the ground, and repeated his motions. A solid few impacts of his boot heel...and several echoing, hollo thunk sounds.

Slowly, Joey's eyes went wide, as realization and understanding almost visibly dawned on her face. The lightbulb popping to life over her head was the only thing missing. "Oh. Damn. I never would'a thought of that," she admitted, sheepishly. "But it does kinda make sense..."

"The only problem is," Graham cut in sharply. "We still do not know where the switch or means of opening the entrance is, and that will no doubt be more difficult to find."

"We do not need to know how to open it," Altanis murmured, slowly lifting one hand and forming her hand into a grasping claw.. "Stand back."

By now, the other two had begun to recognize the demon's antics, and needed no further warning. They quickly skittered out of the way, backing well aside and behind her.

A quick curling of her fingers, and the horse-woman sent several clawing, scything blades of psychic energy through the floor. The relatively thin metal buckled and split under the assault almost immediately, peeling and shredding apart like paper. As if the work of a giant can opener, a large hole was ripped open in the floor, and moments later the jagged and gnarled edges were swiftly ground down smooth.

"That's certainly one way to do it..." Graham grunted, stepping up to the new opening and peering down. "They've no doubt heard all the noise from the construction of our new door...but we're not worried about stealth any longer." He grasped his pistol again, slowly drawing it from its holster. "I will go down first, and make sure they can't do anything to impede your coming." He looked back at the mechanic and the tactician with a grim, determined glow in his eyes. "Give me a moment...then come down yourselves."

And without further ado, the burned man stepped forward and hopped down the newly-created 'hatch' in the floor, droppingout of sight and into the darkness below.


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Altanis

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From down below, there was nothing but an eerie silence for several tense seconds.

Then the sound of muted shouting rose up, and it grew to a fever pitch before the sharp report of gunfire rang out, and Joshua Graham called back up. "I have them held back momentarily! Get down here, now!"

"Sounds like things are gonna get messy down there..." Joey mumbled, rubbing one of her arms.

"You are welcome to remain up here, where it's safe," Altanis said offhandedly, as she stepped up the gaping hole in the floor. "We should be able to manage well enough."

"Up here?" The mechanic sputtered. "Alone?! Are you outta your fucking mind?! Nah, thanks, I'm good. Crazy as you two are, I'm better off with you than waitin' up here for a straggler from these weirdoes to come wandering in ten minutes late to the party!"

Altanis cackled softly at that. "Stick close, then. I can't guarantee you stay safe otherwise." And she stepped forward, looking down into the hole for a moment with a frown before she slipped forward, and somewhat clumsily levered herself down the opening and plunged out of sight.

Joey fidgeted and paced a circuit around the hole for a moment before she audibly gulped and just hopped down as well.

The hatch's passage only lead down about ten feet, and at the bottom it opened out into a roughly-constructed room hewn out of the rock and walled off messily with metal sheeting. One of the cultists lay dead on the floor, and Joshua Graham wrestled with another one wielding a knife.

With only a roll of her eyes, a quick burst of psychic force from Altanis snapped the struggling cultist's neck, causing him to topple limply over to the floor. By the time he hit the ground, so did the mechanic, with a grunt as she dropped to her knees.

"There was a third one here when I jumped down." Graham swiftly reloaded his pistol as he spoke up. "Most likely he ran off further in to alert others. Though I suspect they have already heard the commotion even without his warning."

"Well we mustn't keep them waiting, then." Altanis grinned viciously, flexing the fingers of one hand. "There looks to be only one way out of here...so let us proceed quickly."

Graham nodded in agreement, stepping over to the only doorway out of the room before pausing. His eyes narrowed, before he turned to look at Joey. "Miss Blaese. May I borrow your gun?"

"Huh? Oh, uh..." The mechanic was quick to shrug the shotgun off of her shoulder, and scurry over to hand it off. "Y-Yeah, sure. I dunno if I'd be much help with it anyway."

The burned man holstered his pistol and took the shotgun, carefully testing its weight before shouldering it and testing its aim. "Not properly aligned...overall poor condition... It's a wonder you managed to hit anything at all with this." He sighed. "Luckily, in the tight quarters down here...it should matter less, as long as it doesn't have a more critical malfunction." Fishing through his supply satchel, he fished out a grenade and handed it to Joey. "I don't have many of these...but the situation warrants it. Press and hold the trigger to arm it. It will detonate several seconds after being released."

The mechanic gingerly took it from him, looking at it warily. "So, uh...what do I do with it? Just...throw it when we go through the door, or something?"

With only a curt nod to the mechanic, Joshua Graham turned back to the door and stepped up to it. "They may be waiting for us already. Be prepared to throw that immediately." He braced himself and lifted one leg, delivering a solid kick to the door, taking it completely off its hinges and sending it flying through the doorway several feet before he ducked aside to the edge of the doorframe.

Joey managed not to fumble the grenade, as she quickly squeezed down on the trigger and chucked it through the doorway, scrambling back and away from the opening as she did.

There was a distant sound of confused yelling and shouting, before the blast went off. A terrific sound of screeching metal and a deafening whumph roared through the tunnels and hallways, along with a momentary flash of blinding, white light. Graham was through the doorway in a steady, swift march almost instantly after it went off, borrowed firearm leveled and ready. Joey had retreated back and cowered behind Altanis as she proceeded forward, ducking through the doorway herself in pursuit of the burned man.

The underground chambers were not...exceptionally vast. Several rooms, many of them featureless and connected by simple hallways and hatches. A few of them were simply carved out of raw stone, not yet even properly walled off and closed in. The number of cultists in the entire place was...minimal. Only a small handful more than the group who had returned that morning.

Exterminating them down to the last was more of a chore than anything difficult, akin to hunting down and flushing out rodents who had squirreled themselves away in dark little holes. They were putting up a desperate defense, in the areas they had ducked into; had Graham been on his own, or had Altanis had to rely on conventional tactics and similar weaponry, the task would no doubt have been all but impossible.

None of their defenses were as potent or manic as that of the last room they managed to reach, however. Not only did their usual energy rise to an even greater extent there, leaving them positively rabid by comparison to elsewhere, they had erected actual defenses and fortifications. Just enough to render even Graham's firearms useless, and to block line of sight to prevent Altanis from simply tearing their heads off with her mental powers.

"Their leaders are in the room beyond, no doubt," Altanis snarled, grabbing a thrown hatchet out of the air. "And likely their prisoners, as well."

"That would explain why their defenses are so frenzied." Graham grunted as he threw himself to the side to avoid a blast of gunfire. One hand shot into his bag, and emerged holding another grenade, this one of a different type. "Take cover." He pulled the pin on it, and jumped back to his feet as he hurled it down the hallway and sprinted away from it, throwing himself around a corner.

The grenade soared over the cultists' heads, bounced off the far wall and landed among them, bounding and clattering about wildly...and then exploded. The raw force of the blast sent the nearest manic defenders stumbling and flying away, while the shrapnel tore through the rest, turning the entire end of the hallway into a gory, visceral mess.

"....hmm. Much more effective than the last one," the tactician remarked.

Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
Post: 1,146 words
Quest: 11,748/10,000
 

Altanis

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The ringing echoes from the blast had barely cleared before the small group of intruders within the complex pressed forward. Through the haze of smoke choking the air and the mist of gore decorating the walls and floor, they moved forward, not even sparing a passing glance for the fallen and devastated cultists. The lucky (or unlucky) few who had survived the grenade groaned and writhed pitifully on the floor, choking and weeping in agony and futile rage as those with any strength at all left still desperately pawed and clawed and groped at the interlopers, trying to do something, anything, to stop them for even a second more.

But it was useless, by now.

"Those little trinkets of yours," Altanis spoke up, peering curiously at Graham. "Grenades, you called them? Very interesting little things. They come in even more varieties, I take it."

"A great many different kinds, yes." Graham narrowed his eyes. "Those two were all I had with me for now, however. They are difficult to find...intact."

"Before they explode from others using them against you." The tactician nodded absently. "Unfortunate. I had wished to study some, when we are through here." She shrugged, gesturing to the final door. "Perhaps another time. We have one last meeting to get to, yes?"

In response, the burned man simply loaded a fresh set of shells into his borrowed shotgun, racking it when the last one was set. The sound rang and echoed ominously back up the tunnel.

"So, uh..." Joey spoke up, with a light cough. "I think I'm just gonna wait out here, while you two...deal with whatever is waiting in there." She nodded vaguely toward the doorway, rubbing one hand along her arm and fidgeting slightly. "Think I've seen and and heard enough of all...this for one day."

"Violence isn't for everyone." Graham shook his head. "Don't concern yourself with us, just find somewhere safe to wait. We'll be done soon."

The mechanic just nodded absently, shuffling back away from the doorway. "Just don't do nothin' crazy in there. If they were tryin' so hard to keep you outta there, gotta be something...something real bad, or important in there."

"Well, let us find out, shall we?" Altanis turned back toward the door and lifted a hand. With a gesture as if knocking, the door was smashed by a wave of psychic force, crumpling nearly in half like it was made of foil. A second such 'knock' forced it halfway open. A third strike burst its hinges completely, sending it flipping into the room's interior.

No sooner had the doorway opened, than a harsh, grating cackle erupted from within. A roaring, whooshing noise sounded before a blistering lance of fire came screaming out through the doorway, striking the horse-woman directly in the chest. It was followed only a beat later by a splintering web of lightning, forking and arcing out to wrap around the centaur like a living thing.

"Magic?!" Graham staggered back a step, his eyes wide. "Damnation!" And with a grim shake of his head, he barreled forward, diving through the doorway with a quick roll. Three quick blasts of shotgun fire erupted, accompanied by panicked and frightened screamed, and followed by a pained screeching.

Still wreathed in fire and pouring smoke, Altanis snarled and hurled herself into the room ahead. In spite of the pain, it was the sheer audacity of these fools to attack her in such a way that spurred her on. Not to just attack her directly. Not just to be so bold as to single her out and act as if they had a chance to defeat her. But that they had the audacity to attack her with magic, of all things.

These insignificant little peons, daring to attack someone who had literally written the book on spells so complex it would make their pathetic little minds unravel trying to decipher them.

And they dared.

To attack her.

With her own specialty.

Did they honestly think themselves her betters? Stronger mages than she was, even in this pitifully weakened state she had been reduced to? Were they actually stupid enough to even imagine that they had enough magical capability to stand on the same planet as her, let alone within the same room?

To say that she saw red would be a gross understatement.

One of the leaders of this branch of the cult was down, courtesy of Graham. The other, however, still stood. Clutching a curved sword in one hand, and brandishing a glowing fireball in the other, he sneered at the charging centaur. "You see? It is as I have said! A foul beast comes, slaughtering my brothers and sisters!" He swept a flaming hand to one side, casting sparks and embers out toward a crowd of gathered people. "Did I not foresee this, and speak of it days ago? Weeks ago?!"

His voice had an unhinged, somehow melodious note to it. "I told you, that this mad creature would come. Killing and butchering everything in its way; this wretch is the true harbinger of the end! We seek to save you, to show to you the truth, and a way to be granted a fate better than—"

He was silenced with a heavy, echoing crunch, as the charging demon's fist met the side of his jaw, and quite literally lifted him off his feet with the sheer momentum behind it. He went sailing through the air, hitting the wall and bouncing away to land draped over the upraised arm of a huge, crudely-carved effigy of some bizarre entity. Writhing and groaning, the injured leader began spewing obscenities and threats, gesticulating wildly at the tactician as he tried to free himself from his precarious perch.

"The only mad creature here is you," Altanis hissed, slowly advancing toward the enraged cultist. "Spewing your meaningless drivel about what you foresaw, and what you will lead others to. Do you honestly believe what you're saying? Have you deluded yourself so strongly?"

The cultist finally extricated himself, shrugging out of his robes and dropping back to the ground. A quick, scrambling grope and he took up his sword again, hopping back to his feet. "Mind your tongue, she-devil!" he snarled, spitting out a wad of blood. "I speak as I do because I have been enlightened! I have seen what is coming, what our lord Darkseid intends for this world — for every world!" He slapped a hand against his chest, his face breaking into a manic grin. "And we...no, I will be one of His chosen! I will facilitate and aid His coming, and help spread weakness and chaos to ease the spread of His divine influence! He will see my work, and thank me! He will know my name, and spare me from the oblivion he brings to everything else! He will—"

"He will not even notice your miserable existence." Altanis cut the man off, and gave a simple flick of one finger. A thin blade of telekinetic force lashed out, carving a bloody line across the man's face, and sending him recoiling back with a bloodcurdling scream. "You are as an insect even to someone like me." Another flick of her upraised finger, and a second psychic scalpel cut across the man's face, rupturing one of his eyes. "To someone as great and lofty as your illustrious Darkseid...do you honestly think you are even as worthy of note as a speck of dust?"

A dismissive flick of her entire hand, and five clean lines of power ripped through the man's face from chin to scalp, scoring bone-deep gashes and sending him sprawling onto his back. He howled and screamed, clutching weakly at his ruined face and blubbering mindlessly. Begging for anyone and everything — from his fellow cultists, to Darkseid, to his own mother, to the son he had sacrificed — to come save him. He tried pleading, spitting out promises of secrets and knowledge and wealth, if his life was spared.

The only thing that answered his desperate begging, though, was Altanis's hoof as it came crashing down, smashing his head wide open like an over-ripe melon.


Unmaking Quest: Kidnapped!
Post: 1,365 words
Quest: 13,113/10,000
 
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