Chapter Six #3
She chuckled despite the knot of tension tightening in her insides. “Brother, you need to work on your sense of humor.”
“Humor is inefficient.”
Ha! She’d argue that if there were time, but she had arrived where she was supposed to be. As she got close, the doorway hissed open. Peeking inside, she verified all was clear. At least as far as she could tell. She slid inside, and the door whooshed closed behind her.
“Think there’s a lock on this thing to keep everyone out?” She glanced at the door, then at JR14.
His bulbous head looked up at her, and a low glow of soft blue in his round eyes shifted to a brick red.
“Information not available.” JR14 responded.
Damn. Oh, well. Nothing to do about that. She’d work with what she had.
Ahead of her, the Nexus Core chamber stretched in an intricate web of glowing conduits and crystalline spires that pulsed with blue-and-violet energy. It was eerily beautiful, like standing inside a living geode.
“Okay, where do I put this thing?” Toni lifted the dampening rig for the bot to see.
“Proceed to the central column. Rotate the device counterclockwise and align the magnetic clamps with the primary conductor rods. Failure to align will cause immediate electrocution.”
Toni swallowed hard. “Yeah, good. No pressure.”
Taking another careful look around, she took cautious steps towards the core. Clutching the dampening rig in a sweaty grip, she aligned it as the bot instructed. Her heart pounded when sparks danced and flickered along the conduits.
JR14 lifted off her shoulder to hover beside her, his claws flexing.
Dang bot acted as if he was nervous or something.
Toni held on to the dampening rig then positioned it until it clicked. Yeah, it stuck!
“Clamps engaged,” JR14 confirmed. “Next phase is to activate the pulse disruptor. In three—” He stopped.
“What?” Toni hissed, glancing at the bot when it stopped talking. When the droid pointed one of his claws behind her, panic flared. She turned and froze.
Clear crystal figures stepped through the open archway. Elite guards. Their transparent, glass-like bodies refracted the ambient light, casting rainbows across the chamber. They moved in unison with predatory grace, surrounding her in seconds.
“This is an unfavorable situation that presents significant challenges.”
Trust JR14 to state the obvious.
“The great and mighty Lord Baelon has allowed you to come this far,” one Elite said in a deep, resonant hum. “But we order you to cease all movement.”
JR14 shifted, making her look at him. His claws clicked as his eyes turned burnt orange. “Analysis complete. Structural instability detected in Krystalii guards,” he whispered low.
Hopefully the goons hadn’t heard him.
“Breach confirmed. The Nexus Core system is no longer stable. Suggest targeting weakened areas to neutralize threat.”
“I’m not attacking them,” Toni growled under her breath. She tightened her grip on the rig still attached to the column. Her pulse thundered in her ears as the guards closed in.
As one, they took a unified step toward her.
A wild idea hit her. She suddenly knew how to stop them. Stupid scheme or not, it was now or never. Wincing, she shouted, “Hasta la vista, baby!” and slammed her hand down on the activator.
The chamber exploded in a blinding, colorless light.
Leaving Toni might not have been the smartest thing Azazel ever did, but he’d be damned if he let these Elites get close to her. To make matters worse, these guys felt different from the ones he’d battled before.
Deep inside, he focused his inner strength to teleport him and the guards to a different location away from her.
A surprising well of unknown power rose within him, taking over like a giant fist that grabbed all five of them.
When the instantaneous teleportation stopped, he landed mid-step and staggered, freezing.
Eyes wide, his breath caught as he stared into the annoying mug of his younger brother, Arakiba. This wasn’t where he meant to go…
The look of concern in Arakiba’s gray eyes made Azazel frown.
“You okay, bro?” Arakiba’s blond eyebrows rose, furrowing his forehead.
“Back up and give him some room, Ba.” His other brother, Asmodel, pulled at the black T-shirt Arakiba wore. “He hit his head pretty hard.”
Azazel frowned. He hit his head? That didn’t sound right.
The last thing he remembered was battling…
battling? Who in the ezeru would he have to fight?
With a jerk, he looked at his empty hand.
Wasn’t he holding some kind of sword? The word katana floated by, but he couldn’t grasp what that meant.
Rising to rest on his elbows, he glanced around.
He didn’t recognize the room, which was odd.
Especially when the background was hazy.
“Where am I?” He did his best to clear a dry throat.
“We’re visiting Adapa’s home in San Francisco.” The second eldest brother, Abalim, crossed his arms with a scowl. “When you tripped, you bashed your head on the corner of the table there.” He nodded his dark head at the oval coffee table next to the plush sectional couch he was lying on.
Azazel’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?” Other people may suffer occasional clumsiness, but not him.
He never stumbled on anything, even as a child.
His natural athletic abilities, combined with his keen psychic sense, would’ve safeguarded him against anything as simple as tripping.
This constant struggle to keep his inner demon from gaining control made him extra careful, perhaps more so than necessary, but he would never risk losing dominance.
No need to let the unwanted passenger in his head gain power.
Arakiba whooped and slapped his knee. “Funniest damn thing I’d ever seen! You planted face-first on the ground, out cold like a snowman in a blizzard.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “And the look on your face just before you splatted on the rug…” He kissed his fingers. “Priceless!”
That statement made Azazel’s frown deepen.
He swung his legs over to sit upright. Taking a quick internal assessment, he verified there was no pain.
If he’d fallen like his brothers said, he’d at least have a massive headache, and he would be dizzy and nauseous.
But there was nothing. The only symptom he suffered from was confusion, along with a heavy dose of frustration.
Nothing here seemed right. His eyes narrowed. They were lying to him.
And they never lied to each other.
“Why are we here?” He glanced around, his chest tightening at the unfamiliar place. When a sudden memory struck him, he stood with his hands tightened into fists. “What about the invasion?” Looking around, he sucked in a breath. “Where’s Toni? Have the Krystalii taken over?”
“Krystalii? Toni?” Asmodel flipped his long brown hair over his shoulder and scratched the side of his jaw. “Who in the world are you talking about?”
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Abalim waved a hand, as if dismissing Azazel.
“Some delusion created by the bump in his head.” His brother took a menacing step toward him, stalking him like an enemy.
His head lowered as his dark eyes squinted at him.
“Maybe we should give him something to let him sleep. We can’t let an injury like that go untreated. ”
Now the beast inside Azazel roused awake. Not yet conscious, but alert enough to put him on guard.
“I don’t need to sleep. I know exactly what I’m saying.” He faced the other three. Narrowing his eyes, he studied the three men. “What happened with the Krystalii?” He put his hands on his hips. “And where is Toni?”
“There’s no such thing as a Krystalii, bro.” Arakiba shrugged. The sneer twisting his grinning lips put Azazel on edge. “And never heard of some guy named Tony.” He glanced at Asmodel standing next to Abalim. “Looks like he’s a little cray-cray. Dude doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
For the first time since he woke up, a sense of calm came over him. The beast inside grumbled, but for now kept a vigilant watch in the background. It was then that Azazel recognized where and what he was dealing with.
Clasping his hands in front of him, he gave his brothers a respectful nod. “Well played, Lord Baelon. But I assure you, I know you created this construct from images in my mind. They aren’t real.”
The image of his brother Arakiba clapped his hands before morphing into the crystal-blue form of the Krystalii autocrat, Lord Baelon.
The background changed as well. Now he was in a chamber that pulsed with crystalline light emanating from every surface.
It was as if the walls were alive, glimmering with alien purple-and-blue-hued facets that reflected his own distorted image back at him.
The air carried a biting chill that had a metallic taste, sharp enough to feel like a warning.
There wasn’t any visible door or entryway, only endless crystalline patterns flowing like frozen rivers across the walls, ceiling, and floor.
He tested his limbs. Resistance. A cage—not physical, but psychic.
Tendrils of crystalline energy formed a lattice around him, translucent and crackling with electric blue light.
When he probed the bonds, they pushed against his thoughts with a sharp, needling force.
What was worse, he could feel them feeding off his energy.
A trap. When he tried to move, he ended up with invisible tendrils of psychic energy snaking around his body, squeezing him with icy pressure.
Each strand vibrated, resonating with the crystalline hum of the chamber, like a living program fabricated to sap his strength and suppress his abilities.
“You should’ve known better than to challenge me in my domain, you flesh-born wretch.” Lord Baelon’s crystalline form refracted the chamber’s light into eerie rainbows.