become Mr Big and kill all these people?”
Magnum's face went serious. What treachery was this? Small talk.
“The Old Ones will return,” he said, “I don't care what anybody says, they will be back. And when they do, they will kill us all. The Lamina will protect me, and until then I can steal power for myself. Maybe build an army, create a wall between them and me, I like the thought of that.”
“You're insane.”
“Does it matter? Sanity or insanity, it's all irrelevant. The only thing that matters are two factors, living and not living. I am on the side of the living, but I'm afraid you won't be for much longer.”
He thought the Luminary was going to panic. He had just told him he was going to die, and even used his madman scary voice, he'd been reserving that one for a special occasion. But it seemed wasted, for the Luminary's face remained extremely calm. His eyes were dotted with hints of amusement.
“You think that weapon will save you,” he said, “if the Old Ones are returning, then I am afraid you will wither and die like the rest of us.”
Magnum tried to keep his cool. “Your words cut deep, but not as deep as this.” He slid the blade into the Luminary's heart, blood began to seep out and along the black-veined surface before his body was reduced to a cloud of smoke that hovered above his desk.
It certainly felt good, but that was expected. He had been waiting for this moment for three years, ever since he took the job just to get himself closer to the Luminary, and closer to the Lamina. Mostly the second one. It had all paid off, it seemed.
Magnum listened out. It was so silent, apart from his bodyguards who were now reduced to nothing, no one had been alerted. In his mind, that's wasn’t how it was supposed to play out. There had been screaming and panicking as he marched through the Imperium with the weapon in his hand. Some might try to stop him but they would be turned into nothing as well, and then once they realised they couldn't fight back, he would take charge. This was nothing like that, it was a silent assassination. Not what he had intended at all. That would have to be rectified immediately.
He paced out the room and navigated the maze of corridors. After three years, he still sometimes got lost. He took a few wrong turns before finding himself at the atrium. As he had hoped, it was extremely crowded. Time to put his plan into action.
Magnum stepped forward. As a personal assistant to the Luminary, he was quite unobtrusive. No one seemed to take any notice of him.
The first person to recognise him was a sorcerer he had only seen on one occasion. He was one of their agents or something, who had lost a finger and was claiming compensation, or some nonsense like that.
“Hi, Bill,” he said, “Oh wait, that's not your name. Sorry, I call everyone Bill.” Magnum frowned angrily. His first victim, or fourth, had been chosen.
Everything seemed to happen so fast, yet at the time that he enacted it time seemed to slow down. He began with a deadly strike towards the idiot who got his name wrong. A single swipe with the blade and his throat was gushing crimson liquid, his mouth opened wide as his body began to fall into a pile of dust in the air. The first person to see was a woman who opened her mouth wide and let out a terrific high pitched squeal. Magnum froze, everyone in the whole room froze. And they all stared, unsure what to do.
Just a moment passed and there was a deafening shudder as a stampede of people ran for the exit, trying to get away.
The screaming woman was the next to die, followed by a man with an orange bag slung over his shoulder, and then a woman who transformed into a monkey before trying to scamper off.
As he had expected, there were far more blatta in here than the other rooms. They all converged on him, their visors down as they lugged around those massive great swords in only one hand. If he hadn't been carrying a weapon far more deadly, he might actually have been a little anxious.
Now he felt powerful, it was like he absorbed the energy of each person after killing them. Each death made him stronger.
He was now completely surrounded, a circular formation was created around him as they waited, but what for?
He cracked the dagger like a whip, shooting out purple shadows in multiple directions. Three blatta were dead within the first few moments, and then a subsequent two. In the corner of his eye he saw a sword cutting through the air towards him. He placed the Lamina in between to intercept it, turning the blade into dust and stabbing the blatta that was now unarmed. He fired it one last time and the last blatta died.
It was done. There was now no one left to stand in his way.
He slowly paced up to the exits, firing out a couple of shots into the crowd. They screamed, and he laughed. But he didn't want them all to die. Why would he? He got what he wanted: power, leadership and invincibility. What were these things if not coupled with loyal people in which to boss around? And what makes them loyal?
Absolute and overriding FEAR.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice seemed to be projected across the crowd, everyone was silent as they listened, “I am the new Luminary. The Old Ones are coming, and when they do I will be here to protect you. You'll all be safe so long as you follow me and agree to all my commands.” Still, all of the heathens remained silent, apart from one.
A woman stepped forward. Magnum recognised her from somewhere. She wore a tight, red leather dress that clung firmly to her body, apart from the bare, square patch from neck to chest. Her hair was tied back in a neat bun and her face was defiant.
“I won't bow down to you,” said the Admin, “you're just a monster, a horrible excuse for a human being.
Don't think I can't read you. I am a clairvoyant. Don't think for one second that your thoughts are still hidden from me. They can't hide any longer.”
When he remained silent, she carried on talking. “You have no intention of saving us, your goals are all selfish, yet you try to convince everyone, including yourself.”
Magnum stared for a brief second. Once he might have cared what she thought, not anymore. He raised the Lamina, it flashed a light of purple before he saw the Admin explode into a cloud of thick dusty gas.
Then the screams erupted from everywhere, every direction. Oh. It was glorious.
23
SOUNDS OF SCREAMS
Mercy
Mercy awoke to the sounds of screams. It rattled around inside her head for a little while before she realised that it was actually a real noise from somewhere close by.
Her eyes shot open. Rubbing her head, she looked around the room. She was laid out on a thin bed, in the medical wing of the Imperium, if she wasn’t mistaken. But there was no one else around. Where was everyone?
She called out for some help but no one came. Strange. Normally, Doc Remedy would be there within seconds.
She turned to the side and climbed out of bed, feeling a heavy weight cursing her stomach as pain tore through her. Her face grimaced as she stepped down onto the ground. She pricked her ears up and tried to listen for more sounds. It took only a moment longer for another echo to reach out. Instinctively, her hand dropped to her side towards the hilt of her swords, but they were met only with empty air. Damn. A part of her felt more vulnerable now that she wasn’t armed.
Along the corridor, the lights flashed uncontrollably as though the power grid was close to going out.
She cursed the engineers, out of all the things that are magically controlled, why not the lights?
She shuffled further down, dragging her foot along with the rest of her body. With each step she felt her strength return, along with her memory of what happened. In her mind, she could see distinct images of being beaten half to death by that woman, Viper. She swore aloud at the thought of that red head. Then she cast her mind back to the reason of the interrogation, it had been for the journal.
She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. The Schism Complex, that’s where the Lamina was hidden. She remembered that now, somehow Doc Remedy must have taken away the expan
ded block on her mind, and also simultaneously the block she had made for herself. But there were still parts she couldn’t remember, though she suspected that was as much to do with the beating than her clairvoyant abilities. No doubt they would return in time.
Mercy’s eyes narrowed as she sensed something ahead, it was like a small veil of static being pressed over her brain. She knew there was something ahead. Her eyes saw nothing, but she was certain.
“Anyone there?” she called, nervously stepping to the side of the corridor. There was a brief moment where she thought that it was just in her imagination, her mind had been scrambled by everything that was going on after all. But then she saw camouflaged movement, a brush of disruption in the air. Then the blatta came into full view.
It looked at her with its visor down. She wondered what was behind that helmet, were they human, or something else? She pondered if he was looking stern, if he was smiling in contempt, or looking angry.
Sympathy wasn’t likely.
“Hey,” she said, a part of her still wanted to believe it was on her side. But the screams, why was it not helping those people? “What’s going on out there.” Of course, it didn’t talk. Blatta never spoke, even she knew that by now. Although, hope was a fickle thing.
The blatta drew the great sword from its back, holding it upright with a single handed grip. It tilted its head, seemingly analysing her. Most likely identifying her