Kyle the Apprentice Warlock

12:40 PM September 13th 2026

Industrial Park District Near the Port of New York

Sam was…not good after the call from Anna. All this time, she’d assumed that her little sister was safe. If not at her very expensive, prestigious, and supposedly extremely secure private school, then at home or at work with their father. Either way, she should have been in a safe location.

Not only was Anna not secure, but she had also been unable to get ahold of their father. So, in addition to the horror of listening to the screams of terror from the people with Anna over the call and the sounds of a large monster manifestation. Sam was also imagining all kinds of crazy shitty scenarios vying for space in her brain, narrating what horrible things could have happened to their father both before and after the incident.

Had he tried to get to Anna only to be eaten by the very monsters that were now endangering her younger sister? Maybe. Possibly. Sam didn’t know. She didn’t know.

Why hadn’t her dad gotten Anna when the school called? He never had appointments that lasted more than one hour let alone multiple hours. Had his secretary not given him the message? Had he been mugged on his way to work this morning or on his way to get Anna and was lying in a gutter dead or dying somewhere and no one had found him because of the emergency?

Ahhhh!

And why didn’t Kyle have his phone on him?

What the artificers fuck, Kyle!

Sam was on the verge of hyperventilating in concerned fear and outrage at the unreal and unholy combination of negligence and general incompetence that had led to this situation. If dad or Kyle had answered their phones or checked their messages, Anna would be much safer right now. Okay. In all fairness, if that damned school had proper magic shielding this might not have been an issue at all.

Maybe. Was the school building able to withstand an attack from a class three or four monster? Or a herd of them? She didn’t know.

“Fuuuck!” It came out as a long, frustrated growl and Sam ran both hands through her hair, mussing her perfectly smooth tie back. Much in the same way her brother did when he was frustrated, she grabbed her roots and gave a gentle tug of pent-up emotion. Then Samantha Wattkins swallowed down her feelings.

This was not the time. It was not the time at all. Wrenching her thoughts back to the present, Sam got to work.

“Okay.” One more deep breath steadied her and a calming pat on Gleipnir where he nuzzled her waist comfortingly settled him as well. Their combined auras had been doing that thing again. When they were agitated, well, it wasn’t good. It made the area around them unpleasant to be in. And if pressed hard enough, the aura alone could become a weapon that injured anyone who came within its radius.

“Okay?” Frank questioned from a distance. He’d called back the team he’d had guarding the perimeter of the primary danger zone when Anna’s call notified him of much more dangerous monsters than he’d been anticipating.

“Yeah.” Though Sam’s voice and expression were reassuring and calm, Alex eyed her partner skeptically. And Frank’s eyes darted from Sam, to Alex, and back to Sam, clearly wondering if the younger agent could tell whether or not Sam was lying. Dropping her shoulders, Sam rolled her eyes at Alex then gave her field boss a flat look. “We. Are. Fine.” The magical engineer gestured between herself and Gleipnir’s ‘head’ still cuddling his warlock consolingly along the curve of her waist.

“Yes.” Gleipnir agreed, the emotion of his voice giving the impression of someone who had been crying but had now pulled themself together despite their sore throat and stuffy nose. “My Sammy is a big strong girl. She’ll be able to fight even if her sister and brother are off dying under an 

overwhelming wave of monsters and her father might be having an affair.”

“Gleipnir!” Alex was equal parts amused and aghast and she choked back a laughing gasp. “That is…that is not how you comfort someone.” Frank was less decorous and actually snorted before covering his mouth with one hand as if he were just thinking. Then he turned back around to face outward for signs of monsters.

“Thank you for that Gleip” Dry and caustic, Sam’s tone may be, it was lost on her oblivious pact item. The sentient artifact merely acknowledged what he thought was his just dues.

“You’re welcome, Sam.” The munificence of his reply indicated he had no idea that he’d made a grave faux pas. Even Sam snorted at that as she blinked back the wet glimmer in her eyes. Because it was clear that Gleipnir deeply cared for his warlock and was just showing that he had her back, however clumsily.

Then he sniffed.

At first, Alex thought he was being stuck-up Gleipnir again, but no, he sniffed again. Then twice more. Swiftly the artifact unwrapped his chain from around his warlock and shifted more of his bulk into his sword-shape. That made Alex take note as he lifted himself up slowly to whisper in Sam’s ear.

“Do you feel that?” His voice was low but not so low that he couldn’t be heard by the two agents closest to him and Sam. Gleipnir’s ‘face’, or the part of his sword-shape that Alex had come to realize he’d designated as his face, was angled toward the warehouse they had yet to investigate.

Sam was nodding, her eyes narrowing as she too turned to face whatever he was sensing. Alex found herself nodding as well at the sick twisting churn of magic coming from the building which had, until moments before, just been a part of the oversaturated chaos in the ambient magic levels. She almost wanted to vomit. A few of the agents that happened to be closer to the building began retching uncontrollably.

“What is that?” It was unnatural. Unholy. A filthy perversion that Alex desperately feared and felt needed to be immediately cleansed from existence. Yet it was just a feeling, a sensation. Nails on the chalkboard of reality.

“Monster manifestation,” Gleipnir whispered. “High level. Too high level. Turn your magic collector back on. Now. Now. Now. PERSONAL SHIELDS NOW!!!”

Alex hadn’t waited for Gleipnir to finish his scream. She’d switched her portable magic collector on the second the other agents had started vomiting. Magical engineers had to be sensitive to the currents of magic. It was a requirement for the job. Whatever was brewing in that warehouse near the second magical source, the source that hadn’t been directly dampened at all, was bad news.

“Integumentum infernis.” Sam whispered and a whooshing followed by the muted crackling of flames began as a circle of fire surrounded her. The circle grew up into a wall that then collapsed onto her body. Now, the warlock was covered in a second skin of enchanted fire.

“Good choice, my girl.” Gleipnir approved loudly, projecting his voice so that all the agents could hear. “A very arcane hungry spell, it should help burn off a significant portion of the magic before it reaches your body and causes magic poisoning.”

“You heard the men,” Frank roared to his subordinates. “Cast your highest cost shield spells. We’re going to drain arcanes right out of the air by brute force if we have to.” From the warehouse came the sounds of something large stirring. Huffing, growling, clanking. A screech of tearing metal and then the roof of the building began sinking where a support was clearly no longer doing its job.

“Scutum fedei.” A paladin that was on his knees coughed out between retches. Sam was somehow beside the man already. When had that happened? She’d just been back over to Alex’s left a few seconds ago, hadn’t she?

As soon as the spell summoned by the paladin was in effect, he became noticeably less sick. The magic hungry spell eating up the ambient magic around his body at a terrific rate. For a moment, Alex watched dumbly as her partner was running from one downed agent to another, standing beside them for a few moments until summoned their own spell, and then running off to the next one. It was as if Sam’s presence was making the sick people better.

“She’s syphoning off the magic around them with her spell, so they have a chance to activate their own defenses.” Frank grabbed Alex by the shoulder and pulled-shoved her along with him. “Come on. We have to get them out of there. They’re too close to the source. Shield up!” Frank’s spell was just the basic shield spell that all agents learned in training. But he was clearly modulating it to feed more off the ambient magic as a glimmering aurora surrounded him with arcane symbols.

Alex…was a magical engineer. She was not a front line, first responding kind of agent. This wasn’t what she had trained for. Was it? She was supposed to be in a hygienic, sealed lab somewhere dismantling and examining illegal magitech. Not running into a Prometheus purple zone that was about to turn pink really quick. Today was seriously making her rethink her career choices.

She was proficient with the standard shield. But it really wasn’t sufficient for this situation. She couldn’t use the one the paladin had as that was a faith-based spell. Maybe, maybe she could do the one that Sam had used?

“Rosolvere et effingo, integumentum infernis.” She directed the analyze portion of her spell at Sam, and then the copying portion at herself to initiate the spell. Hot damn. Her vision flashed blank and white as the knowledge of the spell wrote itself upon her mind. “Shit.” It came out breathy and she gasped a short cry of alarm as she was engulfed in flames for the first time in her life.

Taking a brief moment, she examined her hand and saw the inferno blazing around her. Satisfied that she had completed the spell correctly, Alex ran off to join the fray and rescue some of the agents who were still debilitated by the high levels of arcanes in the area. Sam had glanced up with a frown when she felt herself at the center of the rosolvere spell, but she smiled at Alex and called out as she was standing over another coworker waiting for them to regain their breath so she could help them up.

“That was great, Alex. Excellent control in the examination. Nice and steady.” Did Sam just compliment her? Well, miracles came in all sorts of forms apparently. Skidding to a halt in front of a young Asian man, Alex focused her thoughts into sucking up as much magic into her shield as was possible.

She was directing external arcanes in a way similar to what she did with enchanting, but instead of directing magic into an object or intention, she was lighting it on fire and using it up. It was something her artificer instructors in college would have been appalled to see. Such waste. The young man’s bowed head was bobbing as his stomach emptied its contents without his control and the sounds and smell was making Alex sick to her stomach as well.

“You’re gonna be okay.” She offered the suited agent unhelpfully, hoping that she was pulling enough arcanes away from him. Glancing at the Prometheus sensor on her wrist, it was clear that the magic levels were dangerously close to pink even inside her barrier.

“Tai…Tai…” He was trying to cast his spell, but he was choking on vomit between gasping attempts. Knowing that she had to do more but knowing that he wouldn’t be able to control the shield if she placed one on him herself, Alex did the only thing she could. She increased the flow of arcanes into her fire skin and grabbed the man’s arm.

He screamed and spewed flecks of vomit all down Alex’s front as she yanked him to his feet and pulled his arm over her shoulder. Her shield burned him where it touched him but if she let it down, she’d be as debilitated as he was. “Taiyō...” He screeched, not even trying to pull away because the fire that burned him was also burning up the arcanes that were poisoning him.  “Taiyō no yoroi”

Once the words had been uttered in full, then and only then did he lunge off Alex’s support and stumble forward. A brilliant flare of light engulfed him, erupting in a blaze that rivaled the bright light of the sun. Shielding her eyes, Alex tried to focus on the man. Was he okay? Had something gone wrong with his spell?

He looked like he’d combusted into a pillar of white-hot molten…something. Then, Alex saw the bright pillar-blob start moving. A blurry slightly darker triangle began to appear and disappear on the undulating lower half of the pillar, and he realized he was walking. Not fast, but not bent over and vomiting like he had been a few moments before.

“I’m fine.” He gasped out, then bending over, waved her off. “Go help someone else. I’m as good as I’m going to be.” With a shrugging shake of her head, Alex headed off to find someone else who needed help.

A glance around showed her that her earlier hesitation meant that other agents had rescued most of the people who’d been in distress. Those who had recovered quickly, had helped others. It had been fast. Now the last of the group were hobbling towards their vehicles in preparation for evacuation.

Seeing that her charge had already taken off towards the vehicles, Alex looked for Sam. Sam and Frank were escorting a pair of agents, one of whom was too injured to manage on their own. 

Somewhat jealously, Alex noticed that her fellow magical engineer was able to manipulate her shield so that she didn’t burn the person she was helping.

Behind them the rumbling from the building became a deafening roar. Concrete and metal crumbled and fell. Chunks impacting whatever they landed on with echoes and crunches. Chancing a glance back, Alex saw what resembled an avalanche in reverse. Debris launched itself into the crystal-clear sky. Huge, medium, small as dust? It didn’t matter. It was all going up in what would have been spectacular special effects in a movie.

Yeah! She could admit that. Her mind admitted numbly. Even as a remote and tiny part of her mind was urgently screaming an alarm for her to flee, flee now because her life depended on it. Alex’s legs had slowed in stunned awe. What on Earth could it be?

Was it the unidentified source of arcanes? Was it a monster manifestation? What had transformed? Legs slowing further, the magic technician came nearly to a stop half turned to watch her approaching doom.

Sam, Frank and the others were nearly to the first group of vehicles by the time she realized that Alex wasn’t with her anymore.

“Where’s Alex?” She shouted over the man supported between her and Frank.  Her words were eaten by the sound of imminent death coming from behind them.

“She was right behind us.” Frank shouted back, the lines around his eyes and mouth drawn in a tight grimace. Sam’s forehead furrowed and her head jerked around to look for Alex as Frank yanked open a car door.

“I’m going back for her.” Before he had finished helping the person they were supporting into it, Sam had dashed back into what was now a billowing cloud shooting the occasional sizzling boulder of warehouse into the air.

“Fuck. Sam” Checking to make sure the person they’d rescued was secured, Frank looked back into the cloud that was making its way toward them as it fell toward the ground.

“Don’t wait up.” She screamed back to him as she loped away. Gleipnir was in her hand and she plunged into the dust, her body nothing more than a faint glow in the growing darkness of the cloud.

“Damnit.” Shaking his head, Frank almost tossed his keys to someone else, but changing his mind hurried around to the door. Several vehicles had already evacuated but some had stopped to watch Sam with horror as she ran into a churning maelstrom. “What are the rest of you waiting for. Fall back. Fall back.” He circled one arm in the air for emphasis and pointed out the difficult to navigate terrain before he swung himself into his vehicle and left as quickly as the damaged infrastructure would let him.

Meanwhile, Sam didn’t slow in her sprint back for Alex despite the reduced visibility. Spells rattled off her lips for additional physical shielding, for sight int the dark, for heat vision. She was flipping through spells as fast as she could trying to find where her new junior agent had gone.

Ignoring the blisters forming on her lips from her rapid-fire incantations, the magical engineer faced a living embodiment of destruction in little more than her pants suit. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth mixed with the sweet-savory heaviness of the arcanes she was pulling through her. Was that maybe slightly brighter spot in the cloud Alex. It was impossible to tell under these conditions.

“Oh.” Shaking her head in disgust, Sam yanked the buttons on her wrist open and rolled up her cuffs. “The hell with this.”

As a warlock, Sam wasn’t used to taking in ambient magic. Her power was granted by her patron, the Norse goddess Frigg. Because of this, a large majority of her magic was creation related, weaving in particular. Which was why Gleipnir, a needle and or thread type sentient item, had been her granted pact item.

And while many might think that the creative and fiber arts-oriented obsession of Frigg’s nature might be exceedingly limiting on the magics available to her warlocks, it gave them an advantage that many warlocks lacked. Creativity. And the ability to layer styles of magic and spells to make them more powerful than they would ever be just relying on the magic granted to them by their goddess.

“Vefa ok sauma.” Weave and sew. Sam spoke it quietly, whispering it almost lovingly from her lips as her intention gathered both the power granted by her patron and readied the spell to be fed by the ambient magic.  Despite her soft voice, the words of power seemed to dampen the raging noise around her, an all-encompassing command in the vortex of dim yellow light. Raising her hand, the young woman faced the obscured potential doom defiantly and spoke three precise words.

“Bregðandi.  Nordr.  Kaldr.” For a second, all the world stopped.

“Bregðandi.  Nordr.  Kaldr.”  Wind. North. Cold. In that second, a wave of cold billowed out from Sam. In her hand Gleipnir shivered. Sam had used the spells for weaving and sewing to combine the essence of wind, the North, and cold. Essentially creating a spell for the North Wind on the fly.

“Brrr.” He gasped, as ice crystalized outward leaping from one dust or debris particle to another. “I hate that spell.”

His words rang clearly as the spell worked to freeze the chaotic movement around them. The crackling of frost was the only sound for those instants. With a cracking whoosh that swiftly grew thunderous, the grit and debris hindering sight was blasted away with the magical engineer and her pact item as the epicenter. Able to see once more, Samantha Wattkins wiped some dirt from her sweat-streaked face.

A quiet sob drew her attention. Finally! Sam thought in exasperation. That was Alex for sure. She’d expected her partner to be looking for everyone else. But she wasn’t. She was staring at something. Something that was behind Sam and a little to the right. Something high. Transfixed.

Then Sam heard it.

The rumbling of concrete slabs grinding against one another was back. With it, the squealing screech of tearing and bending metal. Then a crumbling boom. It shook the ground and made all the destroyed asphalt of the parking lot she was in tremble at the impact. Followed by more rumbling and screeching, and another boom. More trembling.

“Oh, for the love of doughnuts!” Gleipnir used one of Kyle’s favorite Anna-safe-Camina-approved curses. He wiggled out of Sam’s grasp and turned to glare in the direction of the noise. He gave a small, strangled yelp. “Don’t look, Sam.” He admonished in a quiet whisper, as swiftly returned himself to her hand. “Just grab Alex and run.”

“I think maybe perhaps I should look, Gleip.” Sam countered with trepidation. “It can’t be that bad.”

“No. Just run. Right now it’s attention is on Alex, but the second you move it will notice you, and we are much closer to it that Alex.” Low and tight, his voice had no levity in it. Just concern for his warlock.

“Is it about to eat Alex?” It was still a bright sunny day and Sam was starting to wish she’d worn sunglasses. She could feel sweat that was from more than her exertion saturating the blouse under her jacket. Like, what she wouldn’t give to be able to adjust her bra right now.

“Ehh.” Gleipnir waffled, as another footstep slammed down more to heir right than behind them this time. “It’s looking like that.”

“Fuck it.” Sam exclaimed, a little too loudly then hushed her voice as she continued. “I’m looking.” She turned to her right, not sure what to expect, but not at all expecting what she saw. It was…

…a building?

With legs!

“Fucking, what!” the shout got its attention and the front? The head? Whatever it was swung towards Sam and Gleipnir. It lurched ponderously towards the pair and the warlock was already sprinting towards her partner as her pact item screamed at her.

“Run! Damnit. Run! I told you not to look, you stubborn warlock.” Though he could have far surpassed her in speed, Gleipnir stayed with his warlock, letting her hold him like a weapon as she ran for her coworker.

“Now’s not really the time to rub it in, Gleip!” She shouted back, regretting the last cup of coffee she had as the strenuous activity brought a burnt coffee and bile taste to the back of her throat.

“Now’s the only time to rub it in.” He hollered back unrepentantly. “If you die in the next few minutes, I’ll never get to tell you I was right!”

“Fphft.” She tried not to laugh as she continued running.

“Okay. I fear to say it again.” The sentient pact item was keeping a lookout for the oncoming warehouse which had somehow become an entire monster manifestation. “But don’t look now, it’s decided you are too fast and has gone back to targeting Alex.”

Redoubling her efforts to reach her partner, Sam did chance a short glance to her right that nearly sent her stumbling as she misjudged the height of an uplifted slab of asphalt. Catching her balance, Sam kept running. But though she was fast, the head of the larger monster was nearing Alex.

“I told you not to look, again.” Grumbling continued, but quietly to not distract her.

“Why is she just sitting there?” Had Sam ever run this fast in her life? Maybe. She didn’t know. “Get up!” She shouted at Alex. “Get up and run, Alex. RUN!”

But Alex didn’t run. She stayed there on the ground in a half-stupefied trance of horror as a behemoth of corrupted magic bore down on her. It’s maw gaping. Huge teeth dripping the lubricating oil that had kept the warehouse’s machinery working. A body hung from a shattered hole in the carapace. Small streams of blood flowed from various cracks.

“Alex. Alex. Run.” Still, she hadn’t moved. Her eyes were transfixed on the body hanging out of the mouth. With a safety helmet on. A factory worker. Shit. There had been people working in there.

“It’s no good, Sam.” Far too calmly, Gleipnir informed her. “I suspect that monster has some kind of paralysis or trance effect on its prey. I can feel the magic emanating towards us but I’m keeping it at bay.”

“Well, fuck!” Pouring on the speed, Sam ripped her wand out of its holster and pointed it at Alex.

“PRAESIDUM!” The spell tore out of her mouth at her top power level, scorching her lips as it went. A spherical invisible shield sprang to life around Alex with seconds to spare. The invisible shield flared as jagged steel girder teeth impacted on them. Two snapped.

Hearting hammering, Sam plunged through the shield and yanked Alex to her feet. Now the terrified agent shrieked. Screaming loudly in Sam’s face before realizing that it was someone there to help her. Without slowing her rush, Sam dragged the hapless Alex along behind her.

“Come on.” Gleipnir wrapped his tail around Alex to shield her from the mesmerizing effects of the monster as they fled.

Alex wasn’t doing well. Her legs were barely moving, and it was slowing Sam down. This was a problem because Gleipnir could see the glee come over the warehouse monster’s face as it realized that and changed its ponderous trajectory to hunt them. This was not good.

“Carry her.” He shouted at his warlock. For her part, Sam rolled her eyes so hard she could have sprained them.

“With what superhuman strength genius?” Always feisty, Sam’s snap took Gleipnir by surprise.

“Your patrons. Duh.” If he had a genuine face, it would have sneered at her incredulously. As it was, his voice dripped with disdain. “Use. A. Spell.” Sam gave a single sharp bark of laughter because she couldn’t afford more while she was exerting herself so strenuously.

“Which one. I don’t know a strength spell.” For a second, Gleipnir was stunned silent.

“Of course, you do.” He argued, because how could she not?

“No.” It came out as a huff between gasping inhalations. “I don’t.”

“Yes. You do!” The pact item insisted. “Fortification.”

“That just makes… me resistant to things… that could harm me… it doesn't… make me able to… preform… feats… of… strength.” Sam was coming to a gradual stop and took a second to catch her breath. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the monster was far enough away for a break, but not far enough to be safe.

“Well, shit.” It wasn’t eloquent, but it was a succinct evaluation of their situation. Her pact item paused for a moment, then wiggled the end of his ribbon tail in his version of a shrug, “Eh. Then leave her. No one will know.”

“Gleip!” Eyes widening, Sam gave a chuckle. She could tell from his tone of voice that he didn’t mean it. Things weren’t that dire yet. But Sam also knew that he’d knock Sam unconscious and drag her to safety while leaving Alex behind in a second if he thought that’s what was necessary to keep her safe.

Twisting her body to get a better look at the monster as it closed on them, she sighed, lowered her shoulders and lifted her wand again.

“Vefa ok sauma. Handleggr. Grund.” Weave and sew. Arms. Earth. Two disturbingly human-looking hands of soil erupted from the fractured and uneven asphalt. The hands were attached to arms of earth. And the hands secured themselves around the monster’s rubble and twisted metal legs.

A brief struggle showered the trio with rubble and dirt. But the improvised prison held, and Sam took the opportunity to hurry Alex to their car. Shoving the shivering and shuddering junior agent into her seat, Sam began fumbling with her seatbelt only for Gleipnir to interrupt her.

“Forget that.” He hissed, as the monster continued struggling against the restraints on its legs. “I’ll secure her.” To show he meant it, Gleipnir floated into his spot behind and between the two front seats, but instead of letting the length of his flexible ribbon tail drape beneath him, he looped it over and around Alex, securing her in place. “I got you, kid.” He patted her face as her frenetic breathing finally started calming.

Sam had already hurried around to the other side of the car and after securing herself, started up the vehicle. Slamming it into drive, she accelerated. Though she’d been careful on the drive in, Sam did not take the time to carefully navigate her way through the large, uplifted chunks of asphalt, cracks in the road, or the overturned vehicles that littered the sides of the street.

Instead, she took the turns as fast as she could, dodging around obstacles recklessly. The communication scroll on the dash showed the last instructions from Frank. She gave it a tap so it would reroll and display messages from where she had last checked it when she parked.

“Gleip, could you read that for me while I drive?”

“Indubiously.”

“Indubitably. Gleip.” Alex corrected as she started becoming a bit more coherent and her shivering subsided. Sam chuckled with relief as she rounded a sharp turn.

“If you’re fighting with Gleip then you must be okay.” There was grunt from Alex and a glowering growl from Gleipnir, then silence. “Could you read the messaged for me?” She gently reminded Gleipnir as the silence droned on.

“Ah. Yes.” He made a throat clearing sound, the one that always annoyed most people because they assumed that he didn’t have a throat and began narrating. “Frank says, ‘Sam, Alex, or Gleipnir, if you’re still alive, we’ve withdrawn to the secondary perimeter.’ I think,” Gleipnir added helpfully, “That he means they ran away to where the destruction of the road stops so it’s easier to flee like the cowards they are if we aren’t able to take care of that thing on our own.”

“Ahahahaahaha!” Borderline hysterical laughter came from Alex as she listened to Gleipnir. The pact item turned the blank metal of his ‘head’ to ‘look’ at her. Which was unnerving because he had no face and no expression. Sam just raised an eyebrow and smirked. What? That was funny.”

“You think I’m joking?” Voice a little higher with indignation, Gleipnir confronted the woman.

“Well, of course.” She nodded amiably. “No one could possibly expect the two of you to handle something that size on your own.” Now Sam chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand for a moment, then quickly putting it back on the steering wheel to correct course around another hole in the road.

“Oops. My bad.” She made a show of focusing on the road and straightening in her seat. “You gonna tell her Gleip?” The befuddled Alex looked between the warlock and pact item pair with amused suspicion. They were putting her on, pulling one over on her. It was just another one of their jokes. Gleipnir turned to his warlock.

“I will tell her.” He spoke with all the superiority he could muster then swiveled back to Alex. “I…” he paused for dramatic effect while drawing himself up his ribbon tail lengthening with additional coils around him, “am Gleipnir.”

That was it.

That was all he said.

Glancing at her partner, Alex could see that Sam was sucking on her lips to prevent herself from laughing. Whether at her partner or at her pact item, Alex wasn’t sure. But even though she was blocking the sun with one hand and squinting through the sunlight, Sam’s face was fighting a smile.

So, Alex focused on the proud and posturing Gleipnir.

“And…?” she prompted. “I knew that.”

“What? But…” The haughty set of his ribbon and the jaunty angle of his body shifted down slightly. 

“Don’t you know what that means?”

“That you are a sentient magical pact item from some famous powerful magic being.” She paused thoughtfully before adding, “Oh yeah, and you’re old as dirt.” Sam laughed. But it was a short terse laugh. Despite the levity they were trying to bring to the situation, Alex couldn’t help but notice that Sam was checking the rearview mirror regularly.

She took a look herself and regretted seeing the moving form of the thing that had almost eaten her struggling to escape the bindings that Sam had placed on it. Maybe they could handle it themselves? 

No. Maybe? No…?

“I’m Gleipnir.” He corrected her gently. Alex refocused her attention on him. Still the words didn’t mean anything to her other than his name. So what? He was Gleipnir. How was that name significant?

She searched her mind, and she could have sworn that the needle-sword thing was gazing at her expectantly, searching her face even though it had no eyes to see with. Gleipnir. Norse mythology. 

Fenrir. Ragnarök. That was back in 2012. Scary shit. Gleipnir was what they called the thing that they tied up Fenrir with.

“You’re named after the thing that used to hold Fenrir before Ragnarök.” Alex guessed. If anything, the sentient pact item seemed to become more disappointed with her.

“I am Gleipnir.” He told her firmly but softly. “I was created specifically to hold that poor child, Fenrir, restrained and imprisoned for hundreds of years before my conscience finally won out and I released him. But the point is, that monster,” he nodded behind them, “…it’s just a manifested being. Powered by the arcanes it’s leeching off the dead creature within it. It’s small, compared to Fenrir.”

“Oh.” Finally understanding why Gleipnir had the kind of cocky swagger he did in every aspect of his personality, Alex’s eyes and mouth had formed round ‘ohs’ of understanding long before the word had escaped on a breathy sigh.

“Yeah.” Sam grimaced, getting their attention. “We’ve found the calvary.” It wasn’t said with sarcasm, but it did take on another meaning now that Alex understood that all those mages barricading the street with their vehicles and flashing lights weren’t super necessary or doing anything particularly helpful. “This is your stop, new kid. Hop on out.”

1:00 PM September 13th 2026

Street that the New York Preparatory Academy is on.

Jones was catching his breath after he and Kyle had cut a swath through a literal horde of monsters. Big monsters, too. Made from fucking vehicles. Like cars and SUV’s and shit.

And it had been easy. Really easy. Way too easy.

Why had that been so easy?

Sure, it was class one and class two monsters, but that didn’t explain how easily they’d massacred monsters made of actual living metal. But behind them, all the manifestations were dead. Their carcasses already losing its false matter to arcane sublimation as it evaporated away. They stank, the organic components rotting faster with the high ambient magic of the area.

He’d never seen someone wielding magic like the apprentice warlock of the archivist just had. Not even the kid’s famous mother could bend magic to her very will like that. Was it even legal for a non-enlisted mage to wield magic like that?

Nausea roiled in Jones’ guts as he realized that he may now have a new phobia of the stereotypical academic librarian-looking kind of guys. The reason behind that being the fact that Kyle was the least impressive-looking person one might ever meet. He was just average in every aspect of his looks. 

From his height to his hair, to his personality, to his general attractiveness, even his intellect and normal magical ability were exceedingly average. How had this unstoppable madman switched places with the affable, cautious, young nerd who worked in a museum?

Taking a quick sip of water from a canteen, Jones wondered, yet again, if the new rumors were true about Kyle. Because as he surreptitiously watched his charge from the corner of his eyes, Kyle looked like maybe…just maybe…he knewwhat he was doing. Cold flinty hardness had overtaken his gaze, replacing the spark of friendly humor. It drew attention to the keen intellect that must have always been hiding there.

Scanning the street for more immediate threats, Kyle stood guard as Jones rested. Finally ready to proceed again, Jones replaced the cap on his canteen and stored it on the bottom of the bandolier it had come on. An odd place for a canteen, but it was museum issue gear. Only once Jones had taken over watching for threats did Kyle take the time to relax and have a drink himself. It was fast. Efficient.

Kyle wasn’t wasting time.

With a silent nod to each other, the pair left the shade and shelter of the building they’d stopped in. Returning to the center of the street, the pair began walking at a quick pace toward the school. Most of the remaining monsters were there and they were not happy. Luckily, those monsters had yet to notice Kyle the two men coming up the street behind them.

At first, Jones had been puzzled by the lack of response from the larger horde as he and Kyle were cutting, eviscerating, and alchemy shotgun shelling their way loudly, very loudly, through the monsters gathered near the blockade. But as the pair of men drew closer to their goal, the specialist realized that the monsters were fixated on the school and a wall of ice that they were frantically trying to dig their way through.

To the tasty morsels of people within the ice-encased building.

Because it was ice-encased. What seemed like a vertical wall of ice, was met at the roofline by a flattish dome that encompassed the entire building. Monsters of various sizes – most in the sedan to sport utility vehicle range – surrounded the abstract bubble of ice.

“I see Anna’s been holding the line.” It was the first thing Kyle had said, growled really, since they’d started fighting. Monster fluids had stuck his pants to his legs up to the knee and he kept trying to shake the clinging fabric away from his skin. Guts and shattered windshield bits splattered his chest up the side of his neck where a blood vessel throbbed angrily. This was the first time that Kyle had a bit of a facial tick when he clenched his teeth that way. “Those fucking bastards couldn’t even evacuate all the kids.”

“She did that on her own?” Jones was… yeah… that was impressive. A kid doing that kind of magic? That was pretty damned good.

“Yeah.” Kyle wiped his sweaty face on his shoulder then spat as he got monster muck smeared across his lips. “Bah.’

“The entire building?” It was not long after midday and the sun was angling down between he taller buildings around them so Jones was shading his eyes with one hand to see better.

“Probably.” The apprentice warlock sucked his teeth a bit before spitting again as he continued forward determinedly. His head swiveled from side to side looking for threats from the damaged lower floors of the buildings. Within the buildings, the higher floors were quiet.

“How do you know it’s all her?” Yes. He knew he should have kept his mouth shut. But the question had popped out unbidden. Also, if they drew a monster out of a building, it was one less monster the survivors hiding inside wouldn’t have to deal with.

There were survivors. There had to be. Evidence of magical battles and residents or employees fleeing were everywhere. Bridges of vines from someone who worked plant magic were retracting slowly from a third story window. A flare of light went off two blocks ahead of them where the next concentration of monsters started.

“I recognize my sister’s magic. There’s – ” Here Kyle paused as if he wasn’t sure how to describe what he meant so the warlock’s next works surprised Jones immensely, “…I’m not sure if I should tell you if you don’t already know. But magic, has a… flavor. Which most people know. But there’s a nuance to different sources. Not just fire or ice, but if you’re familiar with a person’s magic, you can tell when a spell or magic comes from them. That’s Anna’s ice. I can taste it in the air.”

“Oh.” When he put it that way, it made sense to Jones. “Like the way the weather changes before snow? Or old people with old injuries who can feel the rain coming?”

“Something like that.” A rueful smile played at Kyle’s lips as he chuckled darkly. But the focus of his gaze never left the dome of ice they were approaching, nor the mass of monsters spread across the no longer pristine green lawn of the school. Their lunging, lumping gaits had torn chunks out of the turf and huge gashes of bare soil marred the landscape. He slowed as they neared the next corner, holding up a hand to indicate he wanted to stop.

Jones heard it too. More clumping and lumping of partially transformed monster manifestations hunting awkwardly on their rubber paws. A small herd that seemed to have made it through whatever barricade that should have been here as they sounded too far away to just be harassing the local swat. The were returning though. The crunching of pavement and the squealing of metal on metal as their organic monster parts integrated with their non-organic immovable parts.

In front and among there were dozens and dozens of smaller, extremely vicious little monsters. They were boxy, kind of like whatever they had been manifested out of had been rectangular blocks with pointed tops. Leaking a white fluid from their whitish bodies as they went, these smaller monsters were agile, leaping from the ground to ride other monsters, or darting into buildings with their nimble little legs gnashing wide mouths that almost split them vertically.

“What in the hell are those? Is that milk? Are those milk cartons? And milk jugs?” Following the little swarm, Jones realized that the building they had been going into and coming out from was a grocery store. “Milk jug monsters. Well, I never.”

Kyle’s shoulders slumped like a kid who’d just been told he had to do his homework before he could go out and play.

“Ugh! We don’t have time for this. Jones. Can you buy me ten seconds? I need to do something stupid.”

“Yes, sir.” Jones was already agreeing before his brain registered the ‘stupid’ part of that request. He thought that what they were doing, waging a two-man campaign against monsters that way outclassed them was stupid. So, he was having trouble imagining what could possibly make their already deranged lack of a plan even stupider.

But whatever.

Jones reloaded his weapon with more alchemical ammunition and started taking even, measured, unhurried shots at the fast evil little milk jug buggers that were hurrying toward them. Peripherally, he was aware of Kyle doing things. His book was still balanced on one hand and Kyle held another over it before giving a command.

“Archive query.” The book glowed and its open pages seemed to lift slightly as if in anticipation of his next request. “Retrieve spell.” The pages lifted higher and began thrumming. “Battle Armor – Saint of Warriors, Armor of God’s General. Replicate.” The pages flipped frantically through the book until opening on what Jones could only assume was the page that the spell was referenced on.

Wait a second? Wasn’t that the name of a certain famous warlock’s armor? That was a spell granted to another warlock by their patron. You couldn’t just learn a patron granted spell, could you? Maybe that’s why Kyle thought it was a stupid idea. He was clearly hesitating, unsure whether or not he should continue with the spell. Jones was about to speak up when –

“Oh. Shit!” One of the little meat jugs, that’s what he was calling them because the milk jug manifestations had already turned almost completely organic having been mostly organic to begin with, had made it close enough to bite him on the knee. “Mother fucker.” A swift kick had it exploding into a pink spray of…sludgy meat. He tried once again.

“Kyle, I don’t – ” The young warlock had steeled his nerves in that moment that Jones was distracted and his words didn’t come fast enough.

“Configure, Replicate, Activate!” They’d been said with such finality, as if Kyle had been expecting something to go horribly wrong. And for a few moments, nothing happened. With a shrug, Jones returned his full attention to the cartons of meat and the larger monsters that were shepherding them. 

Because those were some big MFers.

However, behind Jones and to the side, Kyle’s book flared brightly, and a rising sound of trumpets began. Brilliant golden light shone from Kyle’s location and Jones chanced a glace over at the young man. Sure enough, there in the center of the light, armor was forming over the grinning warlock.

Where Camina Wattkins’ armor was white and gold, this armor was different. Anywhere that Camina’s armor was white, this shone a gleaming midnight black with metallic blue accents where the original had gold. While it had the same general outline as the armor famously worn by Camina and her patron the Archangel Michael, this armor was decidedly in Kyle’s style.

“Fuck yeah!” Kyle screamed and pumped a fist before it was jerked out by an invisible force and a gauntlet formed over it. “It worked. It worked. Ahhhh…” The triumphant shout ended with a gurgled horrified scream.

Whirling, Jones was faced with Kyle, swarmed by more meat jugs that had somehow snuck the fuck around his guard through the corner building they were beside. A stream of the little fuckers was flooding out of a door behind them and had attacked Kyle from behind as his transformation was finishing.

A gauntleted hand reached up and tore the creatures off Kyle’s face and head before a helmet flashed into place. The floating segments of his wings started flexing and shaking off the mini monsters clambering on them before they became charged with electricity. Sparks traveled between the wing segments as they started floating away from the suit in a very unwing-like fashion. Then they became an electrified blender of death.

There were squeals, popping explosions like water balloons impacting on something, and a fine pink mist with larger white chunks floated away from Kyle as the whirring sound died. His wings returned to their normal position, flexing in the way a bird’s might when they were anxious. Jones stared dumbfounded.

“Well alright then.” Then he grinned and chuckled a little because Kyle had forgotten to close the faceplate of his helmet first. Absolute disgust was written all over the warlock’s face as he tried to spit out the pink mist of monster parts which had covered his entire head. The armor, of course, was somehow spotless. Which was even funnier.

“Note to self.” Kyle called out to Jones. “Close the faceplate first. Yeah.” After a quick second of thought, he added with a concerned voice, “Where’d my Codex go?” He looked over the ground near his feet, turning in a circle as he went. “Locate Codex.” Faint chiming started in response to Kyle’s call.

The chiming was coming from the suit and after a few befuddled seconds of patting himself down, he located the book in a pocket-slash-drawer on the exterior of the suit in the general area where his concealed carry magic book holster had been. Pressing on the location with one of his gauntleted hands caused the compartment to open.

“Nioce!” He exclaimed. Breathing a visible sigh of relief, Kyle closed the compartment again with a grin. “Oh. Behind you, Jones.” Jones spun on his heel at the warning just in time to dodge the surprisingly quiet larger monster that had been sneaking up on him along with several others.

"Crap!” Jumping out of the way, he stabbed a monster through the side with the bayonet on the end of his rifle. Screams came from the creature as flames erupted from the weapon plunged into it. A quick pull of the trigger blew Jones backward off the beast as the alchemical charges in the rounds sent him flying backward into a brick wall.

“Jones, I got this,” Kyle called out then took off flying at the group of larger monsters. His wand flared up with a larger electric blade than before and he began dodging and weaving among the larger manifestation, slashing and stabbing at them as he went. Shrieks and screams gurgling into silence drew the attention of observers.

Kyle started moving with more force than necessary. His armored boots crunched into the pavement where he kicked off leaving twin overlapping miniature craters in the asphalt. That was the least of his worries. Jones made a decent showing of it popping little milk cartons of goo while the nerdy museum kid he was supposed to be protecting went on a haphazard manic killing spree of destruction.

That first shove off from his powered armor had sent Kyle careening past his intended target, an SUV sized class two manifestation that was quickly growing in size and organic content making it well on its way to becoming class three. Arms windmilling wildly, the warlock of the archivist caught his balance and leveled the lightning bolt he was using as a sword.

He charged at the creature on foot, each heavy boot clanging metallically. After a brief run up to speed, Kyle tried using his flight again. Unable to fully control his movements, the mech-suited figure zipped past his target again, but with more control this time. It was only his ability to control the length and force of his lightning sword that allowed him to slash the monster nearly in half as he skidded past.

“All right!” Pumping a fist in exaltation, Kyle adapted to his lack of control over flying and instead used a combination of hovering and short powerful sprints to dash from one large manifestation to another. Jones followed Kyle as they cut a swath of gore up the street. Kyle was leading in his nigh-indestructible armor. Meanwhile, Jones brought up the rear with a wand in one hand and his enchanted bayonet in the other, a semi-automatic rifle that shot alchemy bullets, and a bandolier full of the best damned magical charges a mage could ever hope for.

He was pretty sure that he was hearing muted cheering drifting down from the windows of the buildings above. It was difficult to be certain over the loud snarling attacks and pained roars of monsters. But in the occasional lulls where the melee was less loud, it did seem like maybe, maybe the occasional screams of pain and horror from inside the buildings lining that street were more like cries of joy. At least, that’s what he was telling his conscious.

The school had to come first.

It wasn’t shielded like it should have been and anything inside the building could turn at any moment. Everyone else in proper buildings could wait. They had to wait. The kids came first.

No.

Anna came first.

Kyle was only here for Anna.

And Jones was only here for Kyle.

Those were his orders.

Then he looked up, up to the sounds that he couldn’t block out of his head. And there he saw them, people. Leaning over the balconies of apartments screaming encouragement, or pressed against the windows of offices, restaurants, or shops and waving wildly. One idiot decided that they’d cleared enough monsters from their part of the street and actually dropped down from a second-floor fire escape while other young men of about the same teenage shouted at him. Encouragement? 

Admonishments? Jones couldn’t tell.

Said idiot stumbled as he landed, twisting his ankle. Jones had to fire a shot over the kid’s head as one of those little milk jug bastards tried to eat said head. The boy lost the ball cap he’d been wearing revealing a head full of sandy blonde curls. He stood, favoring the twisted ankle. Yep, it was definitely hurt. Not enough to keep him from trotting around carcasses and over slippery guts to a point in the street with a good view.

That little shithead snapped selfies with Kyle and Jones killing things in the background. Then he took a couple more actions shots of the pair as Jones shook his head in disgust before the teen limped hurriedly back into the building from which he’d come. His friends were screaming kudos about how big his balls were and what a boss he was.  Jones started to shake his head –

Well, shit. He thought to himself. I wouldn’t have the cajónes to come out on this street with nothing but a smartphone. After a few seconds of continued mop-up of monsters, he went back around to his original thought on the subject, which was… Of course, I’m not an idiot.

Jones hadn’t been watching how close they were to the school. After a particularly vicious one-on-one with a manifest that had to have once been a limousine, he found that he’d run out of adversaries and finally glanced further around.  That had been sloppy. He needed to pay more attention. Especially to Kyle, who was the whole reason he was here.

Kyle was standing still. Helmet visor open, head tilted back, he gazed up at a monster that was nearly three stories tall. Three stories and focused entirely on the dome of ice it was trying to gnaw its way through. It alternated between trying to chew its way through the ice and beating on it with earth shaking brutality. After a few attacks, it would get winded and as it caught its breath, the monster’s bright headlight gaze focused on something directly beneath it in the ice dome.

Jones watched his charge’s face harden with understanding. Jaw tight, fists clenched, teeth grinding with rage, Kyle’s eyes followed where the monster was looking. The Magicorps soldier didn’t have to look to know, but he did anyway, found Kyle’s sister facing the beast defiantly. Though the dome of ice had seemed as if it was mostly opaque from a distance, it appeared mostly transparent up close. 

They could see a white-haired teen in her private school uniform. Brown eyes wide with terror and leaking tears never wavered as she fed every ounce of magic she could to reinforce the shield of ice between her and the monster.

Dozens of students huddled around her as behind them, inside the protective shield, the teachers and security fought smaller monsters encroaching on their rear. Monsters that must have gotten into the building before she put the shield up. Or more likely, they had manifested inside the building afterward.

“Look at her.” Jones breathed wondrously. Because it was a wonder to see magic so pure and powerful without the taint of a patron or the confines of a spell. “That’s amazing. She’s holding off a class… what do you think that is?” Jones turned to Kyle briefly before looking back and forth to the power struggle between the fixated monster and the… “I want to say it’s a class three but it’s gotta be at least a class four manifestation.” It was the kind of power that every mage longed for.

“I’m coming, Snow Cone.” Kyle’s words were growled low, almost breathy, and his tone of voice snapped Jones’ attention back to his ward.

The click of Kyle’s visor closing in preparation for battle was deafening to Jones. Kyle might as well have been bellowing a challenge to the twisted amalgamation of matter, magic, and life before them. Because that’s what it meant. Playtime was over. It was time to go to war.

1:15 PM September 13th 2026

The Ice Bubble outside New York Preparatory Academy

The now clearly class four monster had lost all resemblance to whatever it had manifested from. Nearly completely organic, only the tough metallic segmented hide hinted as to its possible vehicular origins. The thing resembled a giant millipede now. Four clusters of too many legs to count lined its body. The eyes were bright glowing orbs that flashed off and on in time with its attacks on the ice shield, as if it was blinking to protect its vision of the shards that it sheared off the dome.

The first two clusters of legs lifted up every time the millipede, as big around as a bus, reared up. Then the dozens of limbs came down on the cracking and weakening shield pummeling away as much of the ice as possible. Each blow was backed by the weigh of its massive upper body. End to end, it could have stretched the entire three block gauntlet that Kyle and Jones had just fought their way through.

Somehow, Anna was holding off the mass of about a block and a half of a New York City Street. But she wasn’t enough. And the monster could tell it was going to win that fight eventually if nothing changed. There was an evil gleam of delighted anticipation about it, as if it was already imagining the taste of those refugees.

Why it was so determined to breach the school’s defenses when there were so many easier to reach people in the surrounding buildings, Jones didn’t know. Before he could say anything to deter him, or even just confer about their plan of attack, Kyle took off. Once again, the force of his launch into flight cratered the ground around his boot prints.

This was no semi-controlled skimming of the street like his previous careful attempts at flight had been. No. This was a full-on flight. Like a missile, the armored warlock shot straight for a point in the center mass of the monster. Unerring and determined, he pulled his course up just barely at the last moment before impacting.

In a maneuver that he couldn’t possibly have ever practiced before, Kyle flipped around and shoved the blazing arc of his lightning wand-sword into a junction of the overlapping steel plate segments on the monster’s body. A high, multi-voiced scream came from the monster’s head as it whipped towards the searing pain that an angry big brother was dishing out. It was fast.

Faster than Kyle had anticipated.

In a flash, and distressingly soon after the start of the battle, Kyle found himself caught between the crushing mandibles of the monster. Sizzling and popping, the monster’s venom ate away at Kyle’s protective shell everywhere it splattered on him as the enraged monster shook him like a dog shaking a toy it was having a particularly great time destroying.

“Ha, ha. This is not good.” Kyle coughed, immediately regretting the loss of space in his deflating lungs. How to get out of this little pickle? How to get out of this? He didn’t know. Being shaken was making it a bit hard to think. And Kyle was more of a reader than a fighter. An eater, really, if he was honest about it.

The monster finally stopped shaking Kyle. While the creature worried him in its jaws, Kyle had a moment to think. His eyes focused on Jones down below him. Not nearly as far down as Kyle had thought he was. The soldier hadn’t cut and run like Kyle half expected him too.

Instead, he was charging. His yellow Magicorps beret a bright beacon of hope to those who saw it. Mainly Kyle. Sporadic bursts of precisely aimed alchemy ammunition were wreaking carnage on the millipede legs supporting the behemoth. But it wasn’t enough. Not for as many legs as this creature had. Jones would run out of ammo long before this beast ran out of legs.

Still, he fired. Alternating between the semi-automatic and his wand, the soldier ran straight up onto a group of legs, tossed something under it, then dashed away hastily. A flash followed soon afterward and as Kyle’s dazed eyes cleared, he saw that it had been one of the alchemy grenades he’d given to Jones.

If only there was a way to disable all those legs at once.

Also…

What was he doing?

Why was he just laying here limply, while Jones did all that fighting? Why was Jones fighting? He should have just left the dangerous big monster to Kyle? Jones was going to have all those other smaller monsters on him any minute now because his attacks on the class four monster that Kyle had run off halfcocked to fight without any kind of plan, had drawn a lot of attention to the soldier.

Oh. Kyle shook his head and felt it pounding angrily. His vision swam and he almost blacked out. That was not good.

“Okay. Don’t do that.” He admonished himself, feeling a trickle of something running down his face to dribble against his lips. Licking them, he tasted blood.

He needed to get free, but even in the armor, he wasn’t strong enough to just force his way out of this predicament. When he struggled, the monster just bit down harder. Which he definitely didn’t want it to do because it sent a stabbing pain into the right side of his chest and made breathing infinitely less pleasant.

“Fine,” he grouched in his semi-delirious state.  “We’ll do it the slow way.” Gradually Kyle slipped one of his arms out of the monster’s tight grip. It was tricky. The thing didn’t want to let him go. But it didn’t seem particularly invested in trying to open up its chew toy just yet. It was just slowly letting its venom-acid-saliva burn its way through Kyle’s armor as it gnawed Kyle between its mandibles.

Every time the mandibles would loosen, Kyle moved his arm a little more. He was only able to move the one arm, the other being too firmly stuck in place. That was fine. He could do this. The lightning sword he’d been using had gone out. Which was good, otherwise he might have electrocuted himself.

While he carefully wiggled his way to freedom, Kyle started calling the ambient magic to himself again. He’d been careless shoving himself into this fight the way he had. This was the Armor of God’s General… with fucking tornado razor wings that he was pretty sure the original didn’t have. And he’d wasted that by letting his fear for his sister and his anger at this creature that was after her get the better of him.

So, he gathered magic. More than enough magic. So much magic it might make a person sick if they tried to hold it all for a working. But that wasn’t what Kyle was doing. He was channeling every subatomic particle of it into his wand in preparation of an instant release spell. Finally, after a few more chews, the warlock was able to point his wand into the soft organic interior of the monster’s gullet. Triumphantly, he gave a hoarse whisper to trigger the spell he knew would do the trick.

“Fireball.” It was quite possibly the largest fireball that Kyle had ever seen. Certainly, it was the largest he’d ever cast. Added to the fact that the monster’s acid-venom was flammable, it gave a most spectacular sight for those watching. An enormous gout of fire plumed out of the monster’s face, and Kyle in his armor along with it.

He shot in an uncontrolled arc, wobbling in the air for several meters before he’d regained control of his attitude and altitude. Swinging himself around as fast as he dared as he was still at risk of blacking out if he moved too quickly, Kyle prepared the next stage of his assault. Because, the Warlock of the Archivist had a plan now.

The legs were the problem. The legs had always been the problem. Get rid of the legs and what could that thing do? It couldn’t run, it couldn’t fight. It would only be able to thrash wildly and try its damnedest to spit on its attackers. And Kyle was pretty sure that it couldn’t spit very far.

“Archive Query.” He commanded, knowing that his pact item was safely with him and would heed his call. “Retrieve spell. Snare of Arachne. Activate.” Lines of magical light poured from Kyle as he fed the spell with more ambient magic. The lines flowed together into an intricate web, ensnaring and tangling the dozens of monster legs flailing against it.

Soon the gigantic monster was fully cocooned and immobilized by layers of magically entwined cords. Cords that Kyle held the ends to in one large mechanically armored fist. So restrained, Kyle found the creature a bit pitiful. It whimpered evil wheezing hisses at him with sad headlight eyes. 

Yeah. This had definitely been some kind of vehicle at some point.

He didn’t want to kill it. It was a living thing. Kyle didn’t even really like killing bugs. Though he might never think a millipede was cute ever again after this. However, he knew he couldn’t leave it tied up for someone else to deal with. That wasn’t how the spell worked.

It was now or never.

Below him, Jones was inundated with smaller, but still very large monster problems of his own. In the ice shield dome, Anna was running out of time. So, while Kyle wanted to give himself several minutes to come to terms with the reality of the fact that he was about to kill a living creature – even if it was just another monster, and even if he’d already murdered dozens of the things that day – he couldn’t give himself time to think about it.

None of the other monsters had been restrained. They had a fair chance at a fight when he’d killed them even if his intelligence, magic, and equipment had made the match unfair. Could he kill a thing that was not currently a danger to him in cold blood? It looked up at him with what almost seemed like pleading in its eyes.

None of the other monsters he’d killed had anything that seemed like real sentience or life in them. They’d just been mindless things devouring life and magic. They hadn’t really seemed to know what they were, or care about anything other than the moment they existed in. This one seemed to know. 

It knew it was about to die.

“I don’t have time to feel sorry for you or think about the morality of what I’m doing. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath to steady himself. The finishing blow was not one that should be used lightly. Nor was it one that he could have used in any other circumstance. He adjusted the ties in his hands and fed more magic into them covering the face of the struggling creature.

Sensing the end was near, it struggled more, so Kyle directed the snare to tie itself to the ground and prevent too much movement. Sighing, he let his shoulders sag.

“Archive query. Retrieve spell. The Curse of those who Witnessed the Curse of Sodom and Gomorrah.” The struggling stopped and the shrouded form of the millipede became less defined. Kyle dropped the magical ropes holding the Snare of Arachne, then he turned away. There was no reason to make sure, Kyle knew it was done.

Instead, he cleaned up the monsters harassing Jones, once again relying on his whirlwind bladed wings to blender up the manageable sized monsters surrounding the dome and providing Anna with a route to safety once she opened a spot in the shield.

1:30 PM September 13th, 2026

Inside the New York Preparatory Academy Ice Bubble

Oh, the Gods! That wasn’t Camina Wattkins. Camina’s armor was white. And clearly female. Like, it left nothing to the imagination. Sara’s mother always told her that it wasn’t classy. Even if her own clothes were far more revealing than a mech battle suit.

It was the principle of the thing. You know? You didn’t dress to kill in order to actually kill. You dressed to manipulate people and get what you wanted. So, no. Sara was one hundred percent sure that… that was most definitely a dude in that suit. He was sporting a whole different sort of curves.

“Do you know who that is, Anna?” Liam had asked. “He’s wearing armor similar to your mom’s.” Anna squinted at her ice dome, smoothing it further with a wave of her hand to see more clearly through it.

“I… I…don’t know.” She finally answered. “It’s not Uncle Michael.” Sara gave a snooty shrug from where she stood eavesdropping and rolled her eyes. Calling an archangel ‘uncle’? Show off. 

“Michael’s armor is different.”

Ugh. Liam Ecclestone, the guy who claimed she didn’t even know, well he’d been hanging very close to her ever since they ran out of the darkened hallway together. Soooo…

Sara clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth making an annoyed tisking sound. Yeah right, Anna wasn’t interested in Liam at all. The cheerleader’s eyes rolled as she tucked a lock of hair behind one ear and smiled at her unknown hero while he mopped up the monsters outside. That white-haired frosty bitch could have Liam. Sara had just wanted him because he was the cutest and the richest guy in school.

But a guy who killed monsters in a giant mech suit? That was. Yeah. He’d taken out that monster so fast. Stupid Anna couldn’t do that. Even if she did manage to create an ice shield.

Grinning, Sara giggled as she watched the mysterious hero working. Then covered her mouth. The distracted girl didn’t even notice her fellow cheerleader standing next to her give her an astounded and disbelieving side-eye.

While Sara wasn’t the only person cheering for the pair that was coming to rescue them, she was the only one who had made fan-girl giggles while still trapped between the wall of an ice dome and a group of monsters. It was fine. It was all good. Mystery hero was going to save them.

After the big monster was dead, and the smaller monsters outside had been killed or driven off, then the guy in the suit came up to the dome and opened his helmet. He was… so… cute. Not cute-cute, but normal cute. Sara did a little happy dance. He didn’t look that much older than the teens huddled together either. Yeay.

This was nice. Maybe, maybe she’d get to talk to him? Thank him for saving her? Things were looking up if Anna would hurry up and let the armored guy in so he could finish off the monsters that the trapped warlocks and security guards inside were currently fighting behind the students.

Things were going well indeed. Until that freak Anna Wattkins let out a shout of delight as she got a good look at their savior on the other side of the, admittedly, easy to see through ice.

“Kyle?!” Sara’s head jerked over at the pale haired girl. Jumping for joy she waved her arms to open a door in the ice. “He came. He’s okay.” Bouncing and beaming, the freak grabbed Liam’s hands excitedly. “Yeay!”

Oh. Look at that. Poor Liam looked just as disappointed as Sara to see that Anna knew their rescuer. Which actually cheered Sara up a bit. Now he got to see how it felt. With a self-satisfied smile, the blonde smoothed her hair and straightened her uniform. Twirling a lock of smooth unfrazzled hair around one finger, she shrugged happily that everything was going to turn out okay.

And she probably wouldn’t have to come to school again for a while.

Except for cheer practice. That couldn’t be canceled. There were competitions to prep for.

“Who’s Kyle?” Liam’s question went unanswered as Anna dropped his hands and sprint-hopped happily to the armored man chanting.

“You’re here. You came. You’re okay. Hooray.” Flinging herself into his arms, her voice almost broke on a sob, that she quickly stifled.

“Hey. When my sister calls, I’m going to show up.” His brown hair glinted with sun bleached highlights in the bright sunlight coming through the opening in the glass. It matched the gold accents of his armor. Anna was still hugging him tightly and he gently pulled her arms off him.

“I gotta go help your teachers.” He explained when she tried to tighten her grip. It was so… didn’t she care what her classmates were going to think? She was being so emotional. Like…ugh. Nobody else knew if their families were okay and they weren’t crying. Okay, well the boarding students knew. 

"But…" 

“I promise, I’ll be right back.”

He smiled, and Sara kind of sighed as she felt her heart flutter a little bit. He was such a good brother. Then he was off, a swirling whirlwind of blades and tightly controlled magical spells. While the freed-up school staff were organizing the students to follow the yellow-bereted Magicorps soldier who was covering the exit from the ice dome.

Some of the students had wanted to stay and watch the creatures that had terrorized them though the halls get demolished by the badass who was apparently Anna Wattkins’ brother.

“Dude…why’d the papers claim he was a cook?” An eyebrow rose on Sara’s face. Interesting?

“What do you mean?” She asked the no-longer-hot Liam as she fell into line, letting the teachers calling for an orderly evacuation as if they hadn’t just been shitting themselves seconds ago corral her out the opening of the ice dome with her fellow student.

“That article about Anna’s family this morning. It said that her brother Kyle was a cook.” Gesturing at the clearly skilled spellcaster who was absolutely wrecking the remnants of the monster horde on the second-floor cafeteria. “Does that look like a cook to you?” Sara wasn’t the only one who paused and turned as Kyle Wattkins bathed the shattered roofless room in a wash of magical light from one of his attacks.

“Maybe he’s called The Cook because with all that firepower he’s able to bring the heat!” Someone enthused before giving a cheering hoot. “WOOT! GO KYLE! BRING THE HEAT!” Then shaking his head with a grin, he turned and walked out into the open air and dis-a-fucking-peared.

“What the hell just happened?” Sara stopped dead when – What was that kid’s name again? – dropped out of sight.

“It’s fine.” An almost bored sounding voice came from beside the door in the dome. Searching for the owner, Sara found an exhausted looking Anna. For the first time ever, the other girl’s enviously tan skin was pale enough that she almost seemed to match her hair. Not like legit pale, she was still tan. But she had a pallor to her. “I had to make a slide for us to get down so no one would get hurt. Ice, stairs, and warm sunny days don’t mix well.”

“Oh.” Straightening and trying to hide her moment of sudden panic, Sara squared her shoulders. “That’s fine then.” She sat and immediately regretted the chilly wetness that soaked through her skirt as she tightened it around her knees. Taking a deep breath, she kicked off and started her slide to the grassy field below.

12:30PM September 13th 2026

Manhattan North International Airport, New York, NY

Jim’s legs had almost given out when Camina first set him down. It was Sheer adrenaline alone that kept him standing. The rush. His heart was jackhammering in his chest so loud he was certain that every monster on the island could probably hear it. But that woman didn’t make a big deal out of it. She didn’t call attention to how green he was at this.

When she realized he wasn’t following her over to the edge of the rooftop because he was scared shitless, Camina had just given him a kind, mothering smile and encouraged him to follow her with a nod in the direction that sounds of destruction and horror were coming from. There were screams. So many screams under the sound of crumbling concrete and the screeching of metal tearing apart. 

Glass crunching.

The screams were quiet compared to the angry roars of the monster.

Camina got down on all fours and crawled to the low wall that lined the edge of the rooftop they were on. Summoning his courage, Jim followed with his camera recording. The gravel and debris bit into his elbows despite the reinforced patches on his jacket. And his armpits chaffed as he tried to keep the camera steady through his crawl. This. Was. Not. Fun.

The midday sun was beating down on his back while rivers of sweat were saturating his shirt. Scorching heat rose up from the tacky tarred roof that he stuck to, just a little bit, with each forward motion. Hot, rich, and volatilely resinous, the scent of tar filled his senses until there was no room for any other sensation during the long tedious crawl toward danger. Or at least he thought it had, until he inched his head slowly up to see over the wall and got smacked in the face by the updraft off the tarmac.

Dry air clogged his throat and left the young journalist gasping for air while trying to stifle his body’s autonomic desire to cough. Smothering his mouth against an arm, Jim convulsed with his silent struggle. When his tearing vision cleared after a few blinks, he was staring at a canteen or a water bottle mere inches from his face held in Camina’s outstretched hand.

Yep. Now she knows you’re an amateur, stupid. The disappointed thought popped into his head. Didn’t think to bring anything but my camera gear.

The woman didn’t say anything. She wasn’t even looking at him. Those eyes of her’s were focused on the thing that really mattered. Not some kid wannabe reporter catching his breath, but on the people who genuinely needed her help. Jim took the vessel and drank, quickly. Opening, sipping, and closing the lid took only moment before he placed it back in the waiting hand that closed reflexively around it.

She didn’t even have to look to return it to where it belonged as it disappeared smoothly into a clip on her white and gold armor. Feeling less dizzy and back to himself, Jim Thafesh made a second attempt to do the job he was here to do. Taking slow careful breaths, Jim peeked his head up above wall he was behind…

…and wished he had stayed on the plane.

It was huge. The monster looked like it used to be a plane. A big one. It had sprouted small hindlegs, mostly walking on its wings like a wyvern, and the glass of the cockpit window was gone. The behemoth had a jaw that opened wide low on what had been the nose, filled with sharp jagged metal teeth. Eyes were located to either side of that.

The clawed wings were burrowing into one of the terminals across the way from the building they were located on top of. Short sharp retorts from the weapons of security guards rang out. Shooting was futile, but they were trying anyways. Bright flashes from wand thrown spells spilled around the contours of the metal horror.

Holding up the camera strapped to his hand so he could zoom through the lens, Jim was astounded to see what looked like a few regular civilian passengers standing side by side with the airport security. A valiant last stand while those without magic fled deeper into the maze of corridors in the terminal.

“There’s civilians working along side TSA agents and airport security trying to hold off the class four monster attacking North Manhattan airport.” He began narrating quietly into the mic for the benefit of anyone who might watch later.

“None of those spells are a high enough level to do any damage to a class four monster.” Camina commented beside him.

“Do you think that they waited too long to try taking it out instead of destroying it while it was a lower class?” Jim cleared his throat trying to sound more professional for the recording as he swung the camera around to focus on her, The Valkyrie still had her faceplate open and she never bothered to look at him as she shook her head in denial.

“No. Look…” One gauntleted hand pointed down and swept across the loading and unloading area where a cluster of cargo carrying vehicles were strewn about in pieces. Red and pink smears were interspersed among the destruction. “…I think they didn’t have enough time once the transformation had begun. Even if they had, the monster’s skin is still that of a plane. Its mass is even greater now as it fills in with magical organics. They just don’t have enough firepower.”

As she was speaking a rumbling started in the distance. Growing loud quickly, Jim recognized the sound of a jet and turned his camera swiftly to catch it as it flew overhead. There was only one model of plane magically hardened enough to come that low, the ARC-17 Aegis Magically Enhanced fighter. Two more screamed past just as loudly but not faster than mach. A tickle of fear ran through Jim as he briefly wondered if the country had just written off New York and decided to ‘sterilize’ Manhattan from the sky.

“Oh. Look who’s here.” Though her voice was light and calm, the grimace of disgust Jim saw on Camina’s face out of the corner of his eyes said a lot. He was very careful not to get it on camera. “I’ll go take care of this. Those guys are just here for recon.” She stood suddenly and the journalist startled as the woman beside him stepped away to make room for her wings.

“You sure?” God damn it. He’d tried so hard not to say it even as the words were elbowing their way out of his mouth.

“About what? It’s just a class four.” Then Camina’s visor snapped shut and her wings sprung open. She launched herself high enough into the air and turned herself into a blazing comet fired at the monster across the way.

“Holy fucking shit!” The force of her passage knocked Jim from his knees onto his ass but he miraculously managed to keep the camera trained on the rocketing woman as she punched through the monster with a screech of tearing metal. Bellowing the transmogrified jetliner reared up on its tiny hind legs, ichor and hydraulic fluid gushing from the Camina-sized wound in it.

Furious but unhindered, it began searching for the thing that had hurt it. Jim wanted to get a shot of the reactions from the brave mages who had been trying to hold it off, yet he also didn’t want to miss a moment of the fight. He was riveted anyways. Where had Camina gone? She’d gone through the former plane and out the other side. Her passage had left a gushing hole.

She was lost to his sight. A distant cheer let him know that the famous warlock must still be fine and in view of the people she was rescuing. Hoping that Camina was okay, the journalist focused his camera on the monster which was humping its body weirdly. Twisting and hopping from its center as if it couldn’t quite lay down because there was something beneath it. That something was a certain warlock as she lifted the monster over her head and flung it away from the building it had been ravaging with a mighty heave.

It arced through the air hundreds of feet high but still low compared to the size of its body. Landing stunned it momentarily as it cracked the tarmac in a spiderweb tracery that was probably a lot more damage than it looked like from so far away. However, it wasn’t long before the wounded creature began wiggling on its back to right itself.

Focusing his shot back to Camina, Jim was just in time to catch the distant figure in armor spreading its wings. She launched into the air. He was expecting another inferno run but instead she drew her pact item weapon, Ascalon, the dragon-slaying lance of Saint George. A transforming, shapeshifting weapon so powerful, that it could kill dragons.

Dragons, the most magical creatures on the planet. These monsters plaguing the city were nothing compared to the magic contained in a single proper dragon. The lance in her hand thickened as it became a heavy laser rifle. Jim zoomed in, mesmerized. Thank the Gods he had splurged on the good and expensive magically hardened cameras with the best zoom ever.

Camina had never taken the time to darken her faceplate again, so he was able to catch every nuanced micro expression as the woman took aim at her target. The hate and rage she clearly felt drained away as Jim watched. Replacing it was a still kind of calm that he’d never really seen on anyone before. No animosity, just someone so engaged in what they were doing that there was no room for any other thought or feeling. Then, ever so slightly, her eyes narrowed, and that calm was replaced with a vicious teeth baring snarl in the split second instant before her visor darkened.

“Oh shit.” Flinging his free arm up, the hopeful journalist covered his eyes and face just in time before a searing light ruptured existence from the muzzle of the weapon Camina was holding.

The roaring explosion was fast. Wind buffeted him with debris. Then it was quiet, and he looked again hoping against hope that he’d managed to catch that on film. Dust and rocks were falling around the blast site and as it cleared, a hovering figure appeared out of the cloud. It turned and flew over to him, not fast but not slowly either. When she reached him, Camina opened her faceplate and smiled in a bittersweet way.

“Let’s move on to the next one. We’ve got a city to clear.”

“Yeah. About that….” Jim was staring wide-eyed at a small herd of monsters that had appeared behind Camina. Catching the look on his face, she roller her eyes, turned around, and fired off some kind of rapid fire spell that was bright, hot, and destroyed the monster herd in a matter of seconds.

“I told you, there’s lots more to kill.” She shrugged nonchalantly as if it wasn’t that big a deal.

“Will you be going through the airport to clear out any manifestations and find any people who may be trapped?” Even before the sentence had finished coming out of his mouth, Camina’s face froze into a polite and beautiful masking smile.

“Of course, I’ll do that.” Wow, that brilliantly gorgeous smile that the world was so familiar with as one of Camina’s biggest fans, seemed a lot less genuine when you were the one behind the camera. It seemed pained. Very, very pained.

Being the quick-witted camera man and fan of Camina that he was, Jim shifted the camera to the damaged building across the tarmac as soon as he realized the mistake he’d made. She didn’t want to do that. He’d just accidentally committed The Harbinger to a search and rescue operation because if she said ‘no’ now that the question had been recorded, it would not be a good look for her.

“Yes. Of course, we’ll do a walk-through of the airport, see if anyone’s trapped and put down any manifestations that might be roaming in there.” As she spoke, Jim focused tightly on the mages who had been defending the terminal unsuccessfully. They were pulling people out of the rubble and trying to fortify the collapsing ceiling.

“We’ll need to be particularly carful, Mr. Thafesh,” Her tone of voice when she said his name felt like a cue, and Jim turned the camera back to her. At that Camina folded her wings and latched her lance into the holder on her back. “…my warlock spells and pact items aren’t suited for close quarters combat, and I might accidentally damage something or hurt someone if I use some of my spells inside.”

OooooOOOoooohhhhhhh! Well shit!

Realizing his error, Jim peeked out around from behind the camera and mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ at her. Now he understood his mistake.

“Come along, now.” That bright smile broadened wickedly, and over six feet of magical battle armor stalked toward the journalist. Jim yelped as Camina scooped him up in her gauntleted arms again. Heavy running steps jostled him against the cold metal armor. Until the inevitable powered leap that launched them into the stomach lurching drop to the ground below.

One… two… three… four… Jim opened his eyes which turned into huge saucers of horror at the rapidly approaching terminal building. They were going to smash into the building. So, he braced hard. The smash never happened. But although Camina landed smoothly and the mechanisms in the suit lessened the impact, he knew that was going to bruise.

Then he was down on his own two feet again. Camina was all business as she found an open door with employees waving her into a stairwell. The survivors cheered. It was reedy and thin though and many of them were wounded. And she couldn’t do anything for them.

First aid. That’s as much medical knowledge as she had. Sure, her dad had been a medic back in the day so, she knew a little more terminology than the average soldier. Not a single iota of her warlock magic was based in healing. It was all destruction and shielding. That was it.

“Miss Harbinger.” A young woman, teen really, ran over to her. “Can you fly someone to the hospital? My Gran’s injured.” A girl pointed to where a few travelers were hiding and cowering far away from the large glass front windows of the terminal. ‘Gran’ wasn’t the only injured person there.

Her gaze was dispassionate as she surveyed the injuries. Young, old, male, female, or whatever else they identified as disaster did not discriminate on the basis of gender, age, or ethnicity. Though it probably did have a bit of a bias based on religious beliefs since that was going to be affected by whether or not a deity deigned to answer someone’s prayers.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t really know if that would be the best thing for her.” Camina responded with as much regret as she could put in her voice. “Anyone who is injured enough that they need a hospital may be so gravely injured that they could be killed by the flight.” Explaining this was horrible. It always was. “I’m somewhere protected inside the suit, but it isn’t very safe for the people I carry.”

“You carried him.” The teen pointed to Jim who wanted to melt into the floor at that point but instead spoke up.

“She did, but I’m all bruised up from being pressed against her armor during flight.” He used one hand to pull the collar of his shirt out of the way and the nasty red mark that was just starting to color the arm.

“I’m sorry, Jim.” The contrite look on Camina’s face was, well it was endearing. Then she turned back to the girl and began looking around. “Point me to whoever’s in charge and I’ll see how I can help.”

“You can help by clearing out monsters and helping us evacuate as many of the injured as possible to hospitals.” A man in a suit called out from where he was bent over an injured security agent. His ID badge dangled from a lanyard around his neck. “I know you can’t carry them, but you can push a bus, can’t you?”

“Why, yes.” Camina’s eyes brightened knowing that she had suitable work to do that would allow her to protect these people. “I can do that.”

“If you take care of the monsters, my people will get the injured organized and loaded.” He patted the security guard who was no longer gasping for breath as a mage with healing abilities treated whatever was wrong with them.

“Then I’ll provide both the motor and the escort for the busses.” She rallied the security guards to her. “Alright, who’s coming with me?” A ragged group of about half the uniformed security personnel formed around her. “Which way first?”

“Clear a route to the loading and unloading area where the busses are.” The one who seemed to be in charge volunteered while gesturing in the appropriate direction with his wand. “Then meet up with the survivors in the other Terminals. We’ve confirmed injured in nearly every group of survivors.”

“Right. Let’s get going.” The armored figure took the lead and Jim fell back to film the intrepid group of heroes who were going into battle supporting her. Not reallysupporting her. That was just the way it was going to be spun by the news outlets and the military’s PR people when the footage aired.