
INQUISITOR'S FURY

Book Two of the E.M.F. Chronicles

by

T.A. Marks

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Copyright (C) 2016 by T.A. Marks. All rights reserved.

Cover art by Elettra Cudignotto.

# Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

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# Chapter 1

Jennifer landed on her back, the air getting knocked out of her lungs under the weight of the steel armor, her two handed sword flying across the field. She felt a surge of panic rush through her as she gasped for air but, quickly, found her resolve. She got onto her knees and tried to regain her balance, still feeling dizzy by the blow she'd just received from her opponent's giant battle hammer.

She unbolted the safety pins at the base of her neck, taking off her helmet and throwing it to the side, her fiery red hair flowing freely down her back. She needed time to breathe and secure her balance, time her opponent was not going to grace her with. He was standing a few feet in front of her, readying his finishing blow with his giant two handed battle hammer, decorated with intricate ceremonial patterns, lifted above his head. Jennifer could not make out his face under the cover of his steel helm but she knew the man in the mustache was laughing.

I need to act quickly or it's the next few months at the hospital for me, she thought through clenched teeth. She knew the man was not going to kill her, of course, but she also knew that he wasn't planning to let her walk away without a broken arm or leg or some dislocated joints, if he could help it. She was careless enough to let him connect a debilitating blow with his hammer and now she faced defeat at the hands of Knight-Bachelor Coburn, the man responsible for the melee weapon training of her battalion of squires, and also famous, around the Order's training grounds, for his contempt towards female squires like her.

The man tightened his grip on the hilt of his hammer and moved one of his feet forward to secure his footing. She heard the older man exhale loudly through his armor and saw the hammer starting to come down towards her chest.

It's now or never, she thought and grabbed a handful of mud from the ground with her steel gauntlet, fresh from the morning's light rain, before lunging forward, aiming for the man's waistline. She risked being crushed to the ground, or worse, if the hammer hit her back but she wasn't going to let him get the satisfaction of having her leave the trial grounds on a stretcher.

She threw the mud towards the opening of the Knight-Bachelor's steel helm managing to get some of it through and into his eyes. The man staggered, as he lost his momentum, his hammer landing on the ground with a loud thump, inches away from Jennifer's steel-clad shoulders. She didn't miss the opportunity and threw a punch at the man's crotch using the combined weight of the armor and her body to make sure the blow would strike true.

There was a loud clang as steel met steel and Coburn buckled in pain, his hands covering the area of his manhood. Jennifer smiled and stood up. She brushed her hair from her face and heard the man curse at her furiously inside the metal confines of his helmet. She grabbed the two handed battle hammer, now lying on the floor, and lifted the giant steel weapon above her head.

"I yield," Coburn muttered and lifted his arm upwards in a sign of surrender.

Jennifer wasn't ready to let him go so easily though, not after the ordeals he had put her and the other girls in her battalion, through for the past month, scrubbing floors and cleaning toilets while the male squires got to spend their free time practicing their weapon skills in the armory or riding the academy's horses to the nearby lake. She pretended she hadn't heard the man's plea for surrender and landed the hammer on his shoulder using all the strength she could muster in a precise strike.

The Knight-Bachelor screamed in intense agony as shrapnel of broken metal flew in the air and fell on the ground, his hand holding the broken shoulder over the remains of his shattered shoulder-guard. Jennifer smirked as she saw bone protruding through the older man's bloody skin and lifted the hammer again, this time aiming for the knight's knees.

"That's enough!" she heard the Knight-Paladin's voice behind her and stopped, still holding the weapon midair above her.

"I said that's enough, squire!" the Knight-Paladin repeated in an angry tone and walked towards her, his gold plated armor reflecting the few sunrays of the midday sun peeking through an array of dark clouds that covered most of the skyline. "Pick up your armor and your sword, squire, and assume your position back in the ranks!"

Jennifer turned around and performed a small bow towards the man before picking up her steel helmet and walking past Coburn, still lying on the floor and cursing, to where her two handed sword was. She grabbed her weapon and scurried back to the line of female squires, standing fifty feet away in a straight horizontal line.

She caught a glimpse of their stare, beneath their own helmets, as she ran past them to get in her position in the line. Their eyes were filled with admiration and pride but also a hint of worry. Injuring an officer, even during trial by combat, was unheard of and Jennifer knew in her head that she was going to roast for her actions that day. She didn't care though, she had had enough of the pompous scumbag of a trainer who taunted them every day, calling them names, during their training, and telling them how they weren't worthy of the weapons they were given. That their gender was only good to scrub toilets and do the chores around the academy.

Every noon he had issued a challenge, asking if any of the female squires had the guts to face him in armed combat. Every noon his challenge was left unmet, with him spitting on the ground and roaring with laughter at them before drilling them with intense exercise routines around the courtyard that surrounded the academy building. That was every noon until now.

"I can't believe you've bested him in armed combat," she heard Sarah whisper to her as they both stood in the line, waiting for their next orders. "Look at them taking him away," the girl giggled next to her, on her left, as the whole battalion stared at the medical personnel putting the Knight-Bachelor on a stretcher, after they'd removed his armor, and carrying him away towards the infirmary. He looked comical in his, white and brown, cloth undergarments, a sad middle aged man, his head red with anger and pain looking like it was about to pop.

Jennifer let out a muffled laugh pleased with herself. She didn't care about the consequences, she was just happy that the Knight-Bachelor would never be able to wield that hammer again, in the same way he used to, and that was enough to strengthen her resolve against any punishment that was due. She kept staring forward, towards the trial grounds, and saw the Knight-Paladin in his golden colors that separated his stature from the rest of them in their plain steel gray, now talking to another mustached, middle aged man. He wore a suit and was pointing at her.

The man in the suit was tall, almost as tall as the Knight-Paladin, and had an aura of authority around him, somehow making him look as commanding as the armor-clad man next to him even though he was dressed in civilian clothing. Jennifer met the man's piercing gaze and shuddered.

Those are eyes of villainy and hidden purpose, she thought and a felt a flash of worry. She didn't like the way the older man was staring at her. He reminded her of the way a snake gazes at a little rodent before making quick work of its prey. The two men spoke for a few minutes then turned around to leave, walking towards the academy's main halls.

"That's just great," Jennifer heard the squire, on her right, mutter. "They are just going to leave us here to stand like idiots for the remainder of the day," the girl continued in a tone of annoyance. "And it's all because of you, Jennifer, you can't just shut up and let things go, can you?"

Jennifer didn't say anything in reply. She didn't like the skinny brunette, Daniela she thought her name was. She had always found her to be too timid and obedient towards their superiors, more eager to please the old men barking orders at them rather than prove her own worth, but she had to admit, begrudgingly, to herself that this time the skinny girl was right. She had once again, like too many times in the past to count, let her temper get the best of her and now everyone else in her battalion had to suffer for it. They had to stand in line until an officer, or someone with rank, relieved them.

By the looks of it, they were indeed going to spend the whole day standing there in the field as a form of punishment for Jennifer's actions. That meant that they'd probably have to go hungry for the rest of the day. Jennifer felt her stomach rumble as she thought of supper.

It was Wednesday and the kitchen staff was probably preparing lamb chops with roast potatoes for supper, one of her favorite dishes. Standing there also meant that they would have to go to the toilet while in their armor, something she'd never allow herself to do since she found the action to be both infuriatingly disgusting and derogatory.

She clenched her teeth and looked upwards towards the sky thinking of ways she could cut the Knight-Paladin down with the two handed sword that was now sheathed on her back. She made a mental note of the black clouds gathering in the afternoon sky and let out a small sigh.

Please, don't make it rain, on top of everything else, she thought and shifted her weight on her left leg in an effort to rest one side of her body. She was starting to feel a bit sore and achy under the weight of the heavy steel plates that covered it.

It's going to be a long afternoon, she sighed again.

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# Chapter 2

Jennifer stormed into her small room, located in the west wing of the academy halls where the majority of the squires stayed, feeling a seething rage burn inside of her. She was soaking wet, after having spent the whole afternoon alongside the rest of her battalion, in the rain trapped inside her bulky steel armor.

Her muscles ached and she felt like she had been hit by a bus. She was also feeling angry enough with herself and her superiors to be capable of murder. It was only an hour ago, conveniently timed well after supper had been served, when a squire boy had made his appearance and relieved them, acting on orders from the Knight-Paladin himself, a mocking smirk drawn on his face as he delivered the order.

Jennifer had felt like twisting the boy's neck with her steel gauntlets but she wasn't ready to face another punishment again so she had let his snide attitude fly. She had made her way, grumpily, with the rest of the girl squires to the barracks where they had to spend a good hour getting out of their armor and making sure that the armor plates, as well as their weapons, were dried and oiled to avoid getting rusty.

She felt cold and hungry so she sat down on the little chair by her small desk and started to furiously brush her fiery red hair while staring into the small mirror that sat on the top of her desk.

Her room was a plain affair and consisted of nothing more than four walls with an uncomfortable looking bunk-bed shoved on one side and a small desk with a chair on the other.

There was no furniture other than a series of shelves where a few books, mostly loans from the academy's library, were sitting and a small wooden wardrobe that contained a grand total of two uniforms, one for inside the academy and the other reserved for when situations arose that required them to leave the academy grounds and visit the outside world.

A sole window, overlooking the training areas, broke the monotony of the empty yellow walls. The academy required the squires to lead a spartan lifestyle and their personal quarters reflected that. Jennifer had initially found the little room to be depressing but the small confines of that little space gradually grew on her and provided her with a safe haven from her trainers' scrutiny and wrath. The little room was the only place she could call home, a notion that was otherwise estranged to her.

A couple of minutes later, she decided to put the brush down after managing to loosen up a bit the tangled hair on top of her head. She took off her dark brown uniform, standardly provided by the academy, that she wore under her armor and paced around the room in her underwear. She was shivering and wanted nothing more than to jump into the communal bathrooms for a hot shower but she knew that'd be impossible since it was well past curfew and the lights were about to go out soon.

She cursed at Knight-Bachelor Coburn, once again, and at her own luck and dropped on the carpeted floor where she counted one hundred press ups before getting up again. The press-ups left her out of breath and feeling a few degrees warmer. Physical exercise had always been an outlet for her anger and frustration, an activity that enabled her to regain her balance, physically and emotionally. She reached for one of the desk's drawers and picked up a candy bar that she'd stashed for emergencies.

She laid on her back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, while munching on the sweet, peanut and chocolate covered, treat. She knew it wasn't going to do much for her hunger, after having missed two meals, but she also wasn't ready to go through the rest of her candy bar reserves, especially after what happened that day.

Who knows what they are planning to make us go through tomorrow, she thought to herself and shut her eyes while putting headphones in her ears and picking one of the more mellow tunes on her little media device.

Today, it was a victory against that scumbag Coburn, and I am not going to let anyone take it away from me, she thought while the music flooded her senses and ignited her imagination. She was determined to get as much shut-eye as she could but not before reaching for that secret place in her mind, the one where she always ran to when things turned grim around her.

She envisioned the little wooden house on the hill, overlooking the cliffs above the dark blue sea, and the white sheets on the wash line blowing wildly in the wind, the little puppy running circles around them. She formed a smile on her lips and slowly drifted away.

That night the same dream came back to haunt her. She dreamed about the woman with the red hair, just like her own, and the large sad eyes giving her the faintest of smiles. She also dreamed about the house on the hill, engulfed in fire, and herself running towards it, sick with worry about the fate of the little dog that was always waiting for her by the front door.

The image of the burning house trailed off to give its place to that of the cowled figure beckoning her and pointing towards a dungeon cell. She couldn't make out the characteristics of the cowled man's face but she could see his crooked smile, those rows of black rotten teeth that made her whimper and wanting to turn around and flee. But she never could, the cowled man was always there, holding her arm with his skeletal looking hand and pulling her towards the insides of the black, damp cell.

Jennifer let out a small cry and opened her eyes. She was still inside her room, on her own, staring at what she imagined was the ceiling, inside the darkness of the night. There was no light other than the faint glow of the corridor's lamps coming through the gap under the door.

It was just a nightmare, Jennifer thought and let out a small sigh of relief. She pulled out her media device from underneath her pillow and checked the time. It was three in the morning. She picked up the little metal canteen she kept next to the edge of her bed and had a sip of water. Her throat was dry and coarse and the water felt refreshing and cool albeit a bit stale. She let out another deep breath and turned to her side, determined to sleep through the night this time, hoping she could keep any new nightmares at bay.

A few minutes later, tossing and turning in her bed and unable to fall asleep, she heard the unmistakable sound of wooden shoe soles echoing outside in the corridor. It was the sound of Mrs. Wilkinson's shoes, the caretaker of the female living quarters, probably going through her routine patrol of the dormitories and making sure all girl squires were safe and sound in their beds.

It's a bit late for the old cow to be walking around like that, Jennifer thought. She was right. The sound of her wooden soles became louder until Jennifer heard the woman stop, right outside her room. There was a slight hesitant knock on the wooden door and Jennifer realized that she was the reason the older woman had come all the way from the staff's own halls of residence, two floors below, so late at night.

Damn it, she thought and tried to breathe slowly as if to pretend she was asleep.

Maybe she'll go away if I don't answer the door. However, the knock on the door gradually became more impatient the more she tried to ignore it. Eventually, she got up from her bed and turned on her little digital torch as the lights in the squire rooms were centrally controlled from the academy's mainframe and remained turned off for the entirety of the curfew. She didn't bother to get dressed but walked to the door semi-naked instead, wearing only her underwear.

She opened the door ever so slightly and peaked through. She was greeted by the sight of the older woman looking impatient and anxious in her formal uniform. Her hair was all tangled up and the white shirt, underneath the black and red woolen cardigan, wasn't tucked in properly to her black skirt. It was obvious that Mrs. Wilkinson had to get dressed in great haste before she made her way to Jennifer's dormitory, a detail that signified that her visit was indeed strange and probably dictated by urgency.

"Yes, what is it," Jennifer asked in a hushed tone trying to sound as casual as she could. She didn't want the older woman to sense the uneasiness her visit had caused her.

"Squire Jennifer Courtenay, forgive this untimely intrusion but extraordinary circumstances require your presence, ready to travel and fully attired in appropriate uniform, in twenty minutes at zero three thirty hours," Mrs. Wilkinson informed her in an equally hushed but cold tone.

Jennifer flinched at the sound of her last name, like she always did. It wasn't her real last name but rather one that was picked for her by the Order when she was taken in as a child. Jennifer hated the fact that she couldn't remember her own last name, a detail she was painfully reminded of every time she was addressed as Courtenay.

"Travel?" she replied, not bothering to hide her shock. "At this time? Why am I traveling and where am I going to be traveling to?" she asked the woman standing outside her door.

"This information is classified and not available to staff of my rank, squire," Mrs. Wilkinson replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I am just conveying orders from high above," the woman smiled at the sight of the younger girl's obvious nervousness. "Regardless, make sure you meet the deadline," she remarked, before turning around and disappearing down the corridor not giving her the chance for any more questions.

Jennifer shut her door and stood there in the darkness for a while, a million thoughts traversing her mind as to the real purpose behind the summons.

Ten minutes later she was quickly going down the stairs of the large wooden staircase that led, all the way up from the dormitories in the upper floors, down to the main halls of the building. She was dressed in her uniform for traveling, long black trousers over low black leather shoes and a thin black jacket worn on top of a brown woolen cardigan with a white dress shirt and a necktie. Her hair was up in a knot underneath her black woolen beret that accentuated its fiery red color. She was carrying a small travel bag, containing her few belongings, her media device with her favorite music on, her toothbrush and a couple of hair brushes, as well as a few books she hoped no one would miss at the library.

As she descended the staircase she noticed that the lights were still dim indicating that most of the populace in the building was probably still asleep and unaware of the little gathering that was taking place in one of the main hall's corners, right beside the entrance doors. She hastily made her way to where the other squires were standing and tried to make out the faces of the people gathered there. There was roughly forty or fifty of them, all young squires of both genders and attired in their proper uniforms, standing in line in two groups divided by gender.

I can't believe they brought the boys here, all the way from the other side of the academy grounds, Jennifer thought and quickly fell in line with the rest of the female squires taking her place in an empty spot in the back line. She couldn't make any familiar faces in the group she was part of, most of the girls seemed to come from different battalions to hers, but she thought that her eye caught Sarah's black hair standing in the front lines.

"Is everyone here, then?" she heard the distinctive accent of a northerner bringing everyone to attention around her. She stood up straight, like everyone else, and tried to make out the owner of the voice in the dim light. He was a man in his late twenties or early thirties, she thought, dressed in a casual attire of jeans and a long brown heavy jacket. He was definitely not academy nor Order material but he had the air of a trained killer, one who had seen combat many times in his past. He was standing next to Mrs. Wilkinson and another middle aged man, probably the male squire's own caretaker.

The man in the brown jacket noticed her staring at him and gave her a wink, accompanying it with the sleaziest smile Jennifer had ever witnessed. She shuddered and looked downwards to avoid any more eye contact with the mysterious man.

"Yes, everyone is summoned and accounted for," she heard Mrs. Wilkinson's reply.

"Same for my squires," the other man spoke in turn.

"All righty then," the man in the heavy jacket added and pulled out an electronic device from one of his coat's inside pockets. "The younglings are in the pen and ready to fly boss," he spoke softly holding the communication device near his mouth.

There was a silence that seemed to last for a few minutes and then the hallway doors opened to reveal the figure of an older man, one in his late fifties, wearing a black suit and carrying a large umbrella with him. He walked slowly towards them before stopping to stand right in front of the two groups.

Jennifer immediately recognized the face of the gray-mustached man from the same morning in the training grounds. The same one who had displayed a keen interest in her while talking to the Knight-Paladin, right after her Pyrrhic victory over Knight-Bachelor Coburn.

"Shun!" the voice of the male caretaker snapped everyone to attention.

The man took a moment to take off his black silk gloves and passed the umbrella to the other man who moved to stand right behind him. He studied the groups of squires, standing to attention in front of him, for a few seconds then waved his hand nonchalantly.

"At ease, squires," he addressed them in a deep and firm tone. "There's no need for such formalities," he continued. "As you may be wondering, there is indeed a special reason you have all be summoned here under such short notice."

The older man started pacing around them as he spoke, stopping every now and then to study a squire's face. None of them dared to look back at him in the eye.

"My name is Sir Robert Anderson and I have been assigned by the High Council to pick the most promising of you as potential candidates for the Inquisition's new strike force."

Jennifer felt a spark of excitement surge inside of her.

Finally! she thought. A chance to prove myself and get away from this dreadful place where all I've done is scrub floors and clean toilets for the past year.

She could hardly contain her growing enthusiasm but made sure that no one around her became privy to her emotional state. She kept standing up straight and listened to what the man had to say next.

"You have all been chosen by your superiors and me, personally, based on your performance in combat and other qualities that may be required in your new roles," the mustached-man smiled at them, giving them a glimpse of his perfect white teeth. Jennifer had seen pictures of sharks with warmer smiles. "I am not going to lie to you, squires," he continued. "The decision of the High Council to form a new strike force, one that will work independently to the rest of the Inquisition's forces, is unprecedented in our times and was invoked only under very careful consideration of the circumstances we find ourselves in," he said and looked at Jennifer straight in the eye.

Jennifer felt a knot forming in her throat but held the older man's gaze. She saw a smirk form under his mustache and the man looked away, carrying on with his walk around the rest of her peers.

"The enemies of the Order, we have been called to meet in combat, are powerful and dangerous. Traditional means of engagement have recently been proven utterly useless and ineffective against them as they have swatted everything we have thrown at them like flies."

He's talking about the Lucidi, Jennifer thought, enthusiasm surging once again inside of her, making her want to squirm. I can't believe he's talking about the Lucidi, that means that they exist and the Order's history books were actually being literal!

"As I was saying, squires," the mustached-man continued, "I want you to take the next few minutes to think hard about your decision. The path that I am offering is extremely dangerous and quite possibly one that may lead you to your deaths," he paused for added emphasis. "Regardless, it is one that is dictated by a higher call, the protection of the Flock and the Faith against those who wish to bring harm and suffering to the innocent."

The man completed his little inspection and returned to his original spot in front of them. "You don't have to do this," he said. "In fact, I'd rather you didn't, if you have even a speck of doubt inside your heads. You can go back to your rooms and pretend none of this has happened. You will continue your training and your studies, after which you'll be able to join the Order's ranks as you normally would. However," the older man's tone suddenly became harsh, "if you decide to take my offer and join my cause make no mistake about it. I will put you through the ringer before you get the chance to test your merit against our enemies!"

On that note, the older man took a moment to put his silken gloves back on, and without uttering an additional word, turned his back to them and exited the building.

"Right, ladies and gents!" Jennifer's attention snapped back to the younger man calling out to them. "My name is Major Christopher Wold, and I am going to be your babysitter, among other things, until we arrive to our top secret destination, where you will assume your new duties."

"There is a shuttle bus outside that is waiting to take those of you who decide to join the cause to a nearby airport," he continued pointing towards the direction of the academy's parking lot. "From there we will fly you to where you need to go," he continued. "I will give you a few minutes to think things through and decide between yourselves what you plan to do, but don't take too long. The shuttle is leaving in exactly ten minutes from now, with or without you!" he said and promptly exited the building himself.

Chatter broke out amid the ranks of the people gathered. Jennifer closed her eyes for a second and tried to clear her mind, blocking out the excited and anxious whispers around her. She searched her heart for an answer on what she should do next and found the answer straight away. She started walking towards the entrance doors of the building, making her way through the crowd of the other squires. She was the first one to do so.

As she walked towards the large glass doors she caught a glimpse of a couple of girls making their way up the staircase towards the dormitories. She paid no attention to them and hastily grabbed the handles of the glass door, eager to make her way out of that dreadful place, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Jennifer, wait for me!" it was the voice of Sarah. Jennifer stopped, handle in hand and gave her brunette friend a warm smile. She felt exhilarated at the prospect of having at least one friend with her on the journey towards the unknown she was about to embark on.

Sarah smiled back at her then said excitedly, "I am so glad you are going as well! I'd feel terrified if I had to do it on my own, without anyone from our battalion I mean."

"Likewise, Sarah, I am happy we're together in this," Jennifer answered as they both walked outside. It was pitch black but they quickly spotted the lights on the bus parked near them. They walked quickly in the light rain while several other squires started coming out of the building as well.

"Do you know where we're going? Do you know what we're supposed to do there?" Sarah asked as they reached the shuttle bus' front doors and climbed aboard.

"I have no idea where we're going, Sarah, but I am pretty sure I've figured out what we're going to have the opportunity to do," Jennifer replied to her friend.

"What's that?"

"Isn't it obvious? We are going to learn how to kill gods."

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# Chapter 3

Sir Robert Anderson unlocked the large door to the Georgian styled manor house in Highgate, London, and entered the building. It was almost dawn and he had had hardly any sleep again, a recurring theme in his life lately. He had been transported on a helicopter back to North London, all the way from the squire's academy somewhere in the Midlands.

During the flight, he had managed to rest his eyes if only for a bit. He had left Ravenhawk, his trustworthy agent, behind to make sure that the younglings would arrive safely to their destination and spent the time of his journey home trying to iron out the final details of his plan.

He took off his large coat and his shoes, wore his slippers and made his way up to the second floor as quietly as possible. The housekeeping staff wasn't there yet but his wife, Linda, was soon to be up. A feint smile crossed his lips, under his thick gray mustache, as he conjured a mental image of his wife. She was doing so much better lately, they both were, after the recovery of their daughter, Lisa from the late stages of her cancer.

Anderson hadn't shared the truth with his better half, of course, nor with anyone else for that matter, on the means he had employed to bring forth such a miraculous recovery for his daughter. In fact, he didn't plan to ever do so. He had had her transferred, early on, to their country mansion in Cornwall before having the boy perform his magic on her. He had deflected the doctors' protests by stating to them that his daughter wished nothing more other than to spend, what could very well be, her last days on this earth close to the sea, at the place she loved so much as a child.

Even now Anderson could not comprehend the miraculous way with which the young Lucidi had managed to rid her of her cancerous tumors. It was a memory he was never going to let go of for the remainder of his life. One moment Lisa was bed ridden, sick and looking as frail as ever with the boy standing next to her and staring at her intently, and the next the boy was grabbing her wrist before disappearing with her into thin air.

Anderson recalled the panic he had felt at the sight of his beloved child vanishing into nothingness and the agonizing moments that followed, the feeling of betrayal that he felt as he stared down at the bloody pieces of flesh on her bed. It felt like a small eternity before they both made their appearance again, as suddenly as they had vanished, her lying on the large leather couch on the other side of the room and the boy standing next to her, a smirk drawn on his face. He also recalled how he had rushed to her, panicked, pushing the boy out of the way and grabbing her into his arms as he looked for signs of wounds on her body. There were none, instead he witnessed her smiling at him, her face radiating with a strong glow, her body becoming warmer by the second with newfound life.

"The bloody flesh that is staining her bed is nothing more than the cancer that was eating her away," he remembered the boy speaking the words to him as if he could read his thoughts. "I transported your daughter with me, making her body ethereal like mine, but leaving her tumors behind, severed and no longer part of the whole," he had said. "It was quite an easy feat once I'd figured out what they looked like inside the electrical mesh of her body."

That was nearly two months ago, just after the disastrous events at Glastonbury and his subsequent demotion from the command of the Bureau for E.M.F. activity. It all had happened as part of his elaborate, but desperate, plan to make contact with the new Lucidi and ask for their help to cure Lisa, in exchange for his protection for them and their families. So far the plan had panned out, his daughter was recovering hidden from the Order's prying eyes at their mansion in Cornwall and the boy remained in contact with him and as cooperative as could be expected. But there was still much to do.

The Order had appointed him as the head of a new strike force in preparation of a new round in the inevitable battle against the Lucidi and the Aurora Prime. Anderson knew the reason he got the job was due to the fact that the High Council wished to keep close tabs on him, he was after all one of the most prominent, and dangerous, members of the Knighthood. He didn't mind. In fact he was anticipant of such a development and eager to use this new seat of authority as part of his own agenda.

He walked past the master bedroom on the way to his office, on the second floor of the manor, and took a quick peak inside. Linda was still asleep, breathing calmly on their queen sized bed. His wife wasn't very pleased with the fact that she had to stay in London while her daughter was on her own in Cornwall but she had abided to her husband's wishes for secrecy. She did not comprehend how such a miracle came to be but she was content enough, her little girl was now healthy, not to ask too many questions.

Anderson made his way to the large office at the end of the long corridor and sat at his beautiful mahogany desk. He turned on the mainframe of his computer system and performed the standard series of security checks before inserting the flash drive, he kept in his trouser's pocket, in it. It was the same flash drive that contained the files of the squires he wanted to study.

He had gathered enough information from the Knights and the other trainers at the academy to narrow down the list of potential candidates to four people, two of each gender. They all looked very promising when it came to the assessment of their combat skills but Anderson was more interested in their psychological profiles.

He was pleased to read on the screen of his computer, displaying each squire's file, that they were all marked as unruly and disobedient, possible future rejects of the training program due to their inability to adhere to the Order's strict mandate for mental as well as physical discipline.

Anderson found the girl with the fiery red hair to be the perfect amalgamation of combat genius and rowdy defiance.

She'll be the ideal squad leader, he thought to himself as he went over her file. He wanted a squad of his own, filled with squires spirited enough to break away from the Order's brainwashing and to be more open to alternative goals, ones that would be more in tune with his own personal agenda within the Knighthood.

He'd have to exert his influence over them, of course, and help them adopt his own perspective on things but Anderson knew well, from past experience, that he'd eventually be able to figure out what made his four misfits tick and use this information to his own advantage. After all, they were all just a bunch of orphans with nothing more than mere fragments of their own personal history and a shaky set of ideals that the Order had tried to force down their throats.

"You seem pleased with yourself," the young man's calm voice startled him, breaking his train of thought. He looked away from his computer screen and saw the black-haired young man sitting on the wooden chair facing his desk. He had a look of annoyance on his face and was tapping his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair, something that Anderson found incredibly irritating.

"I know your kind develops a flair for the dramatic but you need to stop making such abrupt entrances and use the correct electronic channels that I have provided you with," Anderson replied equally calmly, taking only but a split second to regain his composure. "There is always the danger of being overheard by those we seek to evade."

"I am pretty sure I can detect electronic wiretaps and bugs better than anyone you know, seeing as I am capable of viewing the world in its molecular structure," the young man smirked mockingly.

"Very well," Anderson twirled his mustache. "To what do I owe this sudden visit? I thought we had agreed on you staying at the safe house I'd provided until your skills were required again."

"Until my skills are required!" the young man hissed. "I am not some kind of lackey of yours! I am here because of my own will and because of the deal we made, one that you seem to be forgetting about! I have done my part, now it's time to do yours," he spat angrily.

"Yes, you have indeed done as I've asked you," Anderson replied, trying to appease the young man's ill temper. "But so have I. All of the families are safe, with their identities, alongside your own and your friend's, still unknown to the people you are trying to elude," he continued. "This came at great risk to me and my family and you can rest assured that I am greatly invested, more so than ever, in maintaining this ruse."

The young man let out a sigh and crossed his hands on his lap. "I want to, no I need to, find my friends as soon as possible. All this waiting, doing nothing, is driving me insane," he said finally.

"I can understand that," Anderson tried to sound supportive. "You have to trust me when I tell you that I am doing all that's in my power to trace your friends' whereabouts. I thought that it'd be an easier feat, since their identities are disclosed to me but it seems that your friends have been taught, by someone, how to evade our methods of tracking persons of interest down," he said lifting an inquisitive eyebrow to the young man who was now avoiding his gaze.

Anderson was positive that the boy was withholding information from him. It was impossible for his friends to become so good at keeping themselves hidden, they must have had the assistance of a third party, possibly the fourth figure accompanying the three Lucidi in Glastonbury, the identity of whom remaining a mystery still.

"Yeah well, I am just getting fidgety waiting and doing nothing," the young man lifted his eyes to meet Anderson's gaze again. "I might get anxious enough to go to Glastonbury and search the place for myself."

"I told you I need more time!" Anderson said through clenched teeth. "The area is still under heavy surveillance by my people searching for clues. As soon as I am able to secure us a window of time when we can visit the place and put your skills into good use, you have my word that we will do so."

"I have the suspicion that you don't trust me enough to let me go there on my own," the young man sneered. "Your people are not going to be able to track me If I stay in my ethereal form."

"We don't know that," Anderson said in earnest. "Remember, I am no longer the head of the Bureau so I am not privy to what techniques they are employing to monitor things. For all we know, they might be monitoring fluctuations in electromagnetic waves in the area where your friends were last seen at."

The young man got ready to say something in reply but decided against it. He tapped his fingers intensely on the arm of the chair while looking through the window behind Anderson's chair. The morning sun was out and bright sunrays were coming through the crystal glass of the window, overlooking the small grove in front of the manor.

"Very well," he said eventually. "But don't take too long. I am eager to reconnect with my own."

"Yes," Anderson said in a more mellow tone. "I want you to feel like you can trust me. I hope our collaboration will be a fruitful one as well as long-lived. Remember, I can offer you, and your friends, much more than subterfuge. I can help you forge a new life, one filled with wealth and power, as long as you put your unique gifts into my service from time to time."

"We'll see about that," the young man smirked again. "Oh, and by the way, I like how the ginger handles her swords and her hammers. She's a keeper that one, isn't she?" he said before vanishing away.

Anderson sat on his chair for a couple of seconds then got up and stared out of his window. The boy was playing with fire, a game of poker with marked cards, but it didn't matter. The older man knew he had already started to get under the boy's skin, swaying him towards his side without him even realizing it. His grip was secure, the boy relied on him to keep his family safe, all he needed was a little nudge to realize how much better his life would be if he decided to be an ally rather a foe.

"Robert, are you alright?" his wife's voice made him turn around. She was standing by the door to his office, dressed in her robe. "I didn't hear you come in last night. Were you just talking to someone?"

"Yes, my dear," he replied, giving her a wide smile. "I was going over some things about work with some associates of mine over the net. I, actually, came in this morning and I feel dead tired."

"You really should stop working these late hours, my dear husband," Linda said with a worried frown on her face. "Would you like to join me for breakfast? I think I can smell bacon coming from the kitchen already."

"Yes, breakfast sounds wonderful," he said. "You go ahead of me and I'll come down as soon as I take care of a few minor details here."

"Don't be long, Robert," Linda said and turned around and left, walking softly down the corridor.

Anderson had one more job to do before allowing himself a few moments of rest and relaxation. He pulled a phone out of one of the drawers in his desk and punched in the security code. Then, he dialed the number of one of his own agents inside the Bureau and brought the device to his ear. He let the phone ring twice then he hung up.

A couple of minutes later, the phone started to vibrate. He answered it promptly and spoke softly to the man on the other side of the line.

"Do you have anything on our mysterious man in the trench coat?" he asked. The voice on the other side replied in series of short sentences. Anderson's eyes gleamed at the sound of what the man had to say.

"Make sure you keep this piece of information buried for as long as possible. I will contact you soon with further instructions," he said before powering off the device.

The prodigal son rears his ugly head once again after all this time, Anderson thought as he walked down the staircase to the kitchen.

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# Chapter 4

"Pay the good woman, Mark," Jose said to me in between stuffing his face with noodles from the bowl he was holding.

I passed the Japanese old woman, serving the food in plastic take-away containers, a yellow note of twenty Reais and followed my friend to an empty bench nearby where we sat down to eat our lunch.

"You know we are almost out of money, right?" I told him while I struggled to secure the fried ball of octopus and shrimp between my wooden chopsticks. "We are down to our last hundred from the money Richard gave us and we still have half a month to go. I don't think he'll be very happy if we keep asking for more."

Jose shrugged his shoulders indifferently and he continued to wolf down his food. I mimicked him, I was equally sick of the old cockney bloke bossing us around since we decided to join his quest, almost three months ago, immediately following the events of that fateful day on the Greek island.

Our initial journey had taken us back to England where we assisted the older man in his efforts to secure a strange artifact of pre-ancient times that was lying hidden in a mysterious underground complex below the circle of stones in Glastonbury. An artifact that was meant to be, according to Richard, pivotal in our understanding of our powers and how they came to be.

I shuddered at the memory of that night's frantic circumstances and how I had nearly died at the hands of a group of elite soldiers, under the command of a secret Knights' society, one that was hellbent on riding the earth of people like us.

After securing the artifact, aptly named Storm's Call by Richard and his team members, the three of us, Alice, Jose and I, had decided to take his advice again and follow him across the world, using the fake identities he had provided us with, to the vibrant metropolis of Sao Paolo in Brazil.

There, we discovered that the older man wasn't lying about the vast amount of resources he had at his disposal as one of the leaders of the Organization, a rag tag collection of people of diverse ethnic origins and social backgrounds, forged together by the need to escape persecution and to teach each other the methods of exerting control over their extraordinary abilities.

It was a sight to behold, the headquarters of the Organization, an old, deserted, military complex that spanned across three levels below a busy street in one of the many shanty towns around the city's perimeter.

I finished my portion of noodles and washed away the lingering aftertaste of the sea food with a large gulp of guava juice that we had bought earlier on from another stand. The sugary liquid felt electrifying in my mouth and filled up my nostrils with a plethora of spicy and exotic aromas, which in turn excited my other senses.

It was a warm Sunday afternoon and we were hanging out in Liberdad Street, in one of the most colorful and buzzing street markets of the city. It had become a sort of ritual for me and my friend to wander around the city, visiting its numerous bars and cafes and trying to mingle with the locals, in an effort to assume some sort of normality over the chaos that was now our lives.

Jose often joked that our explorations of the city reminded him of the times we spent together, just the two of us, when we were both in our university years back in London. I always laughed in agreement but my laughter somehow felt a bit hollow every time.

We both knew that we were never going to be the same people again. During the past months, our lives had made a big turn and not necessarily for the better. We were fugitives, considered terrorists or worse by the authorities back home, possibly never being able to return and resume what was left of our previous lives.

"Let's go to the bar for a drink, or two, before we return back to the base, compadre," Jose was the first one to speak out loud after we had finished our meal.

We got up from the bench and started to make our way through the multicultural crowds of the Japanese quarter towards the neighborhood of Vila Madalena, the artistic hub of the city. We had become regular visitors there, after Hiroko had taken the initiative to show us around the city a few months back.

"I've made up my mind, Mark, I am getting out of here as soon as I get an opportunity to do so," Jose said wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He had just downed his fourth shot of the day.

We were sitting at the bar in one of Vila Mandalena's popular art cafes, enjoying a beer as well as a few shots of the local white spirit. It was getting late in the afternoon and the place was buzzing with all sorts of street artists, tourists and other trendy-looking types. We had spent the past hour there crowd watching and moaning, in between drinks, about the ordeals we had to go through as part of our training.

"You might want to slow down, mate," I cautioned my friend. "I think we're probably on the verge of not being able to afford the tab."

"What?" he replied, looking at me like I was crazy. His eyes shone a bit like he had too much to drink already.

He turned his attention to the pretty young girl acting as a barmaid, behind the counter, and snapped his fingers discreetly as if to get her attention.

"Hey, chica, what's our credit like in your fine establishment," he asked her.

The girl looked confused for a second then broke into a wide smile.

"You know your money is not good here, guys," she replied in the local accent that I'd grown fond of.

"That sounds great to me, chica," Jose carried on. "Get us another round of shots from your best Cachaka brand and two more bottles of beer for me and my friend here."

The bar maid gave us another warm smile and went to get our drinks.

"You know you're going to get into trouble," I said in a tone of disapproval as the girl rushed to pick up the order. "We're not supposed to use our powers outside the base or without supervision unless we find ourselves in a life-threatening situation," I continued. "I am pretty sure that using your empathic powers to charm people into giving us free drinks doesn't qualify as one."

Jose shrugged his shoulders and downed another shot of the Cachaka shots the barmaid put in front of us.

"I don't care, compadre, feel free to tell on me," he said defiantly. "Besides," he carried on, "it won't matter soon, because like I said earlier on, I am getting the first plane out of here back to Valencia."

I sighed heavily and had another sip from my beer. I looked around and gazed casually at the people around us. The dreadlocks on some of them reminded me painfully of someone else I had left behind, someone that my heart yearned for.

"I can't say that I blame you," I tried to sound supportive. "I feel the same, I don't know what the hell we're supposed to be doing here."

It was true. None of us, apart from Alice, seemed to be benefiting from the so-called training we were receiving from Richard and his people. Dr. Hoch, or Dr. Horror as me and my Spanish friend called him, had remarked on numerous occasions, and after turning us into lab rats for a week or so when we first got there, that Jose was already at the peak of his power levels, displaying an uncanny ability to control his empathic ability to the fullest.

Jose had tried to use that statement, from the Organization's top medical authority, as ammunition in his arguments with Richard and when he tried to get out of a training session but the cockney would have none of it.

"Controlling your powers is one thing, but managing to stay alive in a combat situation is something else, entirely," he had deflected Jose's protests, time and time again.

As for myself, things were a bit more complicated.

During training, I outright refused to even try to activate my powers. I had no intention of transforming into a giant insectoid monster, one that had eaten human flesh no less in the past, and there was nothing that Richard, or anyone else, could say to dissuade me.

I felt terrified at the loss of memory I'd suffered back in Glastonbury and of the events that had transpired there. Being able to fire lightning from your hands or make people like you, or even conjure fire out of thin air, was one thing but turning into a gigantic rampaging monster, with no control or recollection of the process, was another bag of snakes entirely.

There was no way I was going to end up a freak, a danger to both myself and the people close to me, by risking activating my powers and if that meant that I had to piss on Richard's parade then so be it.

In fact, I had felt so burdened by the monstrous nature of my morphing powers that I had found the courage to ask Dr. Hoch if there was any way to get rid of this curse that was bestowed upon me unwillingly. He'd dismissed my inquiries every single time as preposterous, telling me the sooner I got used to my new self the better it would be for me and everyone around me.

"So what's our plan?" I asked him several drinks later. It was getting late and I felt a bit tipsy. Jose looked like he was already spinning.

"We are going to keep quiet about it, don't tell anyone apart from Alice," he slurred his words. "Everyone seems really busy deciphering that crystal ball of lightning we got from Glastonbury."

It was true. We didn't get to see much of the leaders of the Organization, with the exception of Richard, since we'd arrived at the base. All the higher ranked people seemed to be spending every waking moment trying to figure out the purpose of the Glastonbury artifact and the information that they thought was hidden within.

"Then," my friend carried on with his plan, "we'll wait for when Richard gives us a day off and we'll tell him that we want to visit Rio de Janeiro. We'll travel to Rio and from there we'll grab another flight to Spain."

Jose hadn't stopped pestering Richard from the moment we had stepped off the plane in Sao Paolo about his long life wish of visiting Copacabana and all the other famous beaches in Rio de Janeiro. I started wondering whether this was all part of an elaborate ruse he was working on.

"Do you think Alice will come with us?"

"I don't know, compadre," Jose stared at his drink. "Every day that passes she's becoming more and more distant from us. She's almost a different person now."

I cracked my knuckles and let out a deep sigh through my nostrils. I didn't want to admit it but Jose was right. Alice was indeed turning into someone else, someone who was hard to recognize at times. She seemed to be embracing our new lives as fugitives and got along well in the company of the other super dorks, as Jose called them, back at the base.

Of course it didn't help that everyone there treated her as some sort of a celebrity, raving about how her power set was really rare and how they thought she was probably something they called an Aurora Prime, a person whose power levels are way above everyone else's. Alice seemed delighted, at first, with all the attention and praise she was getting and was doing her best to excel at the training we were all receiving with great levels of success. This, in turn, had equipped her with a great deal of confidence that was worlds away from the shy girl that we all knew and were used to.

While I felt really happy for her and proud of how she'd managed to turn her life around and make something great out of an, undoubtedly, difficult situation, I couldn't shake the feeling that she was feeling disappointed with me and Jose and our apparent lack of enthusiasm for our new status as extraordinary humans. There was a definite wedge in our relationship that was growing by the day, with her drifting further away from us and closer to her new surrogate family in the Organization.

She was worried about Mac, of course, but trusted Richard when he told us that he had people assigned to finding him and bringing him over to us. I was personally dubious of his words, the middle aged cockney was giving me the impression that he had kind of given up on our friend, probably convinced that he had fallen victim to the Clergy's soldiers.

I was willing to bet that he had, even, outright lied to us when he said that he had people waiting for our friend at our rendezvous point in the pub near our old university halls of residence. Mac was not one to go back on his word, especially when so much was at stake. It was also awfully convenient that we weren't allowed to use any form of communication to try and contact him since Richard was certain that it would be hijacked by our pursuers.

"Don't get me wrong, compadre," Jose carried on, snapping me back to attention. "I wouldn't be here, alive, if it wasn't for her and I feel grateful for that. It's just that I think she doesn't really feel close to us anymore, at least not in the way she used to."

"I know what you mean," I replied. "Under the circumstances, do you think it's wise for us to tell her about our little plan?"

"Maybe she'll tell on us," Jose said.

"That's what I am thinking," I agreed. "Maybe it's better to keep it to ourselves for now and see how it goes."

"Right-on, compadre," Jose said and finished his beer. He motioned the girl behind the bar with his empty bottle and she rushed to bring us a couple of fresh ones.

"A last one for the road, compadre?" Jose asked as he grabbed the bottle that was placed in front of him.

"Sure," I chuckled. "It's not like you gave me any chance to answer first before ordering, you clown!"

Jose laughed and passed me the bottle of beer.

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# Chapter 5

"Major, the squires are outfitted, according to Lord Anderson's instructions, and ready for inspection, sir," Knight-Sergeant Harper's mellow voice echoed through his desk's voice com.

"Be right there, Sergeant," Wold replied and got up from his chair. He put out his cigar and wore his trademark leather jacket before leaving his office. It was nearly noon and the base around him was buzzing with the rustle of officers rushing through corridors, trying to make sure everything was in order before the High Council's appointed visit in a few days days. Rumor had it, among the higher ranked people, that the High Priest himself was making the trip in order to inspect the combat readiness of Strike Force Fury with his own eyes.

Anderson had given explicit instructions to his second-in-command on how to deal with things at the base and Wold did not intend to let the old man down. In fact, he took pleasure in ordering the squires and the rest of the officer crew around, not missing an opportunity to squander the latter's pride by forcing them into chores and activities that were clearly below their stature and rank. Although a military man himself, Wold had nothing but contempt for the religious zealotry of the Clergymen, and he made sure to remind the more religious among them that it was a common man, like himself, who was ordering their upper crust arses around.

However, he always made sure to stop at the right time, not taking things too far with the veiled insults. After all, his boss was part of the Knighthood himself and he didn't want to shake the old man's confidence in him by acting out of boundary.

Today, it's one of those days, everything needs to go exactly as the old man wishes, Wold thought to himself as he entered his personal lift to the base's ground floor. His office was located, conveniently next to the old man's own office, on the top floor of the base and just above the war room where the officers' briefing took place. It was just the two of them on the top floor, even their personal assistants were located one floor below, as the old man was as paranoid about security as ever.

A couple of minutes later he was exiting the building through the lift's own emergency exit, five floors below. He signaled one of the corporals on a cart and hitched a ride towards the training grounds, situated two miles away from the main building.

The base itself was recently built on the green vastness of an empty field, somewhere in Northern Ireland, located below a small hill and overlooking the Atlantic ocean. The base and all its amenities consisted nothing short of a landmark in military design and technology. Five floors, springing above the ground and covering a grand total of three square miles of internal space, included an array of armories, science laboratories, surveillance equipment, as well as offices, gyms, and living quarters for the personnel that was transferred there.

The personnel itself, apart from the forty young squires who were recruited straight from the country's own academy, was a mix of Clergy military and scientific personnel. One hundred and twenty men and women, from all around Europe, worked tirelessly to assist with the strike force's needs in the escalating battle against the Faith's enemies.

Sir Robert Anderson was in charge of all operations, overlooking everyone and everything transpiring down at the base, up from his tower on the fifth floor. Whenever he was away, Wold assumed command and made certain that no one deviated from the old man's orders.

The cart stopped near the gathered crowd and Wold got out, waving at the corporal to wait for him.

This shouldn't take long, he thought.

"Shun!" Knight-Sergeant Archer's shout snapped the crowd to attention.

"At ease!" Wold walked next to the two Knight-Sergeants, dressed in their khaki uniforms and standing in front of a battalion of squires, so that he could perform the ceremony of inspection.

Gotta give it to the old man, they look magnificent, he thought as his eyes scanned the young men and women in their outfits.

They were all wearing their new Inquisitor-class combat armor, a mechanical suit made to resemble fifteenth century medieval armor but consisting instead of mostly technological parts. Parts that were designed to enhance the wearer's own abilities and combat skills through a diverse array of technological equipment, as well as offer them incredible protection against heat, cold, enemy projectiles and even cloaking protection from most types of sensors.

They were also carrying a custom made version of the C8 SFW combat rifle, retrofitted with a grenade launcher, a short-burst flame thrower and a long range tactical laser scope. Wold could not help but admire the craftsmanship behind the custom made rifles and marveled at the deadly capabilities of the weapon, while it remained one of the most lightweight military equipment he had ever gotten his hands on.

But that wasn't all. Every squire was, additionally, equipped with their melee weapon of choice, sheathed either on their back in the case of the large two handed weapons, or on their side in the case of the smaller one-handed types.

Wold took an extra moment to study the diverse range of melee weapons picked by the squires according to their preferred fighting style and their assigned role in their squad. They consisted mostly of two handed swords, hammers, and axes, but some of the most agile-looking squires had foregone the use of the bulkier weapons for the likes of a short sword, a katana blade or even a pair of daggers. The Major remembered the science staff back at the armory raving about the work they had put into making those weapons and how they were the perfect combination of weightlessness and indestructibility.

"You won't hear it often from me, ladies and gents, but you all look absolutely smashing in your gear," he addressed the crowd. None of the squires flinched but Wold imagined them smiling underneath their helmets.

"I bring word from the old man himself," he continued. "He's pleased to hear that all of you have passed the physical trials and medical tests we have put you through the past week and that you are indeed combat ready, according to your drill sergeants here," he pointed at the man and woman in uniform standing behind him.

Wold started pacing up and down as he spoke and he tried to keep his eyes on everyone, even those standing at the back. He wanted to make sure that no one felt excluded from the praise he was giving them. "For this reason, almost all of you will present arms to a delegation of High Council members who will be making the trip to the base, in order to award you with a promotion to full Knighthood."

A murmur broke out in the ranks accompanied with a few hushed laughs. Wold let the squires enjoy a brief moment of triumph then resumed his monologue.

"You will also be relocating from your cells in the basement to the living quarters above with the rest of the staff at the base," he said. "We can't have you Knights living in those damp old cells, can we?" he laughed.

For the past weeks, the old man had the lot of them living in the medieval looking dungeons in the underground complex below the base, alongside rats and roaches. He wanted them to sleep on the cold stone floors, while they underwent the physical and psychological examinations, as a way to weed out the meek. Wold was impressed with the fact that they didn't have a single dropout in the whole of the battalion. Those kids are used to being treated like crap, he had thought, on several occasions, with a sense of admiration.

"I won't take any more of your time, seeing as your schedule is still full of practice, as we need to make sure you're all nice and combat ready," Wold said before turning to address Sergeant Harper behind him. "Sergeant, as you may," he said to the man in uniform.

"Shun!" the Sergeant shouted. "Fury Squads One to Nine, right flank! March!"

Wold stared at the back of the formation of squires marching towards the base, their Knight-Sergeant on their side. He spent a minute studying the different color combinations each squad wore on their armor then turned around to speak to the other Knight-Sergeant.

"How about these four, Sergeant Harper?" he asked her. "Do you think they are ready?"

"I believe they are, Major," the woman replied matter-of-factly.

Wold looked at the four squires standing still at attention and smiled. They were dressed in their standard training khakis and army caps, not having been kitted out in the combat armor the rest of the battalion was. Wold could sense their nervousness and uncertainty behind their stone cold expressions. These were it, the old man's choice for his own personal squad of super troops.

"At ease, squires," he said. The group of squires, consisting of two young women and two young men respectively, relaxed and looked at him inquisitively.

"You must be wondering the reasons why Fury Squad Ten, yours truly, is not following the rest of the troops back to the base," he said.

"I'll be short and sweet," he continued. "You have been selected by the old man himself, based on your skills and personalities, to form a special-ops squad, one that will be working outside the normal mode of operations," he said before stopping for a second to let his words sink in.

"I want to be frank with you troops, the jobs you will be assigned are probably going to be extremely dangerous, even more so than what the rest of our little army here is going to be dealing with. However, the old man is confident that his judgment of you is not miscalculated," he said and stared each one of them in the eye, in succession.

None of them blinked.

"You can still opt out of it of course and assume normal duties with the rest but I'd like an answer now if you don't mind," he finally said in a slightly mocking tone.

The squires looked at each other and nodded. The ginger girl, the one that Wold had singled out for her incredible beauty and feistiness since the day he had first laid eyes on her back at the academy, was the one to break their silence.

"Permission to speak freely, Major," she asked, her tone firm.

"Granted, squire."

"Major," she continued in the same tone, "I believe I am speaking for all four of us when I say that we are honored by the Director's confidence in our combat prowess and that we are more than ready to meet any challenge that you deem worthy."

"Well said, squire!" Wold laughed in reply. "But that still remains to be seen," he carried on, still chuckling. "Regardless, I am happy that all of you feel this way. It just makes my job so much easier."

He turned around to address the Knight-Sergeant. "Sergeant Harper," he said to the woman in uniform, "please escort Fury Squad Ten to their personal quarters and have them grab some chow and rest for a bit. I want them fresh for briefing at fifteen hundred hours at the special-ops armory where they are going to be retrofitted in their brand new toys," he continued not missing the flash of excitement in their eyes. "The science division has been busting their arses to have them ready on time and I for one can't wait to see those babies in action!"

"Very well, Major," the Knight-Sergeant replied. "Shun!" she began but Wold stopped her with a wave of his hand.

"No need for this, Sergeant," he said. "The old-man doesn't want his little group of proteges to work under the drill."

Harper nodded and started to lightly jog towards the base signaling the four squires to follow her.

Wold turned around and walked to the military cart that was parked nearby. He got on and promptly asked the Corporal to drive him back to the base. As the cart started to move on the small pathway, he pulled out his phone and quickly used his fingers to type a text for the old man.

"Everything is going according to your plan," the text wrote. "The younglings are eager and the bait is on the hook. Will update further, later this evening."

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# Chapter 6

Jennifer threw some warm water from the tap on her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She stared at the drops of water running down the length of her long, slightly up-turned, nose and angular cheekbones towards her thin, but beautifully shaped, lips. She blinked for a moment then used the small gray towel to wipe the water dripping from the edge of her pointed chin.

She stretched the bags forming underneath her green eyes with her fingers then stroked the length of her thick red eyebrows to form a perfect wide arch above her eyelids. She picked up one of her worn-out black elastic bands and tied the red voluminous mess of her hair into a knot.

She felt tired, the last couple of weeks at the base being particularly hard on her physique with very little opportunity for rest or comfort. She didn't expect anything less, of course, being used to putting up with the constant and exhausting tribulations the Order considered as indispensable to a squire's training regime, but at least now there was the prospect of rest and a chance to think. Things were moving at an increasingly fast pace and Jennifer wasn't sure what to make of the latest developments in the twentieth year of her life, however exciting they may be.

"Jennifer, are you coming out?" Sarah's voice put an abrupt stop to her thoughts. "I am hungry, let's go get some chow!" the voice outside the bathroom door carried on.

Jennifer let out a small sigh and smiled at her reflection.

I am glad Sarah's here with me, she's the only friend I've got in this place, she thought as she exited the small space that was their room's en suite bathroom.

The rest of the room also consisted of nothing more than two metallic wardrobes shoved next to a double bunk bed in a windowless concrete space painted light gray, lit with a series of rectangular light bulbs that were fitted across the low ceiling above them. Even so, the spartan looking room the two girls had to share, in the west wing of the officer's quarters on the third floor, provided a sheer contrast to the filthy and cold cells they were living in since the day they'd arrived at the base.

"Is that makeup I am seeing on your face, Sarah?" Jennifer said in a playful tone to the impatient-looking brunette standing in the middle of their room, tapping her foot anxiously on the thick gray carpet.

"No!" Sarah answered quickly but not before turning a bit red.

"Yes it is!" Jennifer laughed. "I can see a bit of eyeliner, and it looks like you've plucked your eyebrows as well while I washing up in there."

Sarah bit her lip in annoyance then shrugged her shoulders. "So what if I have?" she asked defiantly.

"Oh lord, please don't tell me it's all for that Geordie creep," Jennifer rolled her eyes.

Sarah looked positively annoyed with her friend. "I think he's cute and I am pretty sure he thinks the same of me," she said. "In fact, I caught him checking me out a couple of times."

"Sarah, putting aside the fact that he looks like he's ten years older than you, that sleazeball looks like he has a thing for all the female personnel on the base."

"I don't care, I like him and that's all the matters to me," Sarah folded her arms tightly on her chest.

Jennifer sighed and looked at her friend. "Just be careful, Sarah," she finally said. "You are my one and only friend. I don't want you to get hurt."

The brunette unfolded her arms and rushed to her ginger friend to give her a hug. "I know, I feel the same way," she said after they broke their embrace. "Everything that's been happening lately," she continued, "being transferred here, training hard for god knows what purpose and now this ..." she waved her hands in the air. "Our squad has been picked for the special-ops missions, can you believe that?"

"I know," Jennifer replied. "It all feels like it's too big. I don't trust the Knight-General, the old man gives me the impression that he has something hidden in store for us, something that I am not sure we're going to like very much when we find out what it is."

Sarah stayed quietly for a second processing the words of her friend, then took Jennifer's hands into her own. "Please, promise me that whatever happens, we'll be there for each other," she asked her in a hushed tone.

Jennifer held her hands firmly and looked straight into her friend's dark brown eyes. "I promise," she said in a reassuring tone and smiled.

Sarah smiled back, her eyes watering for a brief moment.

"You're going to ruin your make-up silly!" Jennifer tried to cheer her friend up. She grabbed the other girl's arm and led her out of their room into the west wing's main corridor. "Come on!" she said to her excitedly, "I thought you said you were hungry! Let's go check out what the food's like up here," she giggled.

Sarah giggled back and they both darted down the corridor towards the officer's mess hall brushing past a number of annoyed personnel on their way.

"Oh my goodness, Jennifer, look at all this amazing food!" Sarah cheered not able to contain her excitement.

"Less talk, more piling up!" Jennifer replied, concentrating hard on picking up as much of the food that was laid out in the buffet in front of them as possible before piling it up on her tray, much to the amusement and irritation of the other officers present. They had both made their way to the large mess hall, located in the center of the building's third floor. There, they had the opportunity to discover some of the benefits of their new stature, as special-ops recruits, in the grand variety of meats, cheeses, roasted vegetables and mulled wine offered on the various buffets throughout the hall.

They filled their trays to the brim and walked towards the large polished-wooden tables at the back of the hall, next to the massive glass panels overlooking the ocean on the cloud-ridden horizon.

"Jennifer! Over here!" Jennifer turned and saw her bulky squad-mate waving at her from one of the tables in the corner.

"It's Victor and Thom!" Sarah said cheerfully as they walked towards the table where the two young men were sitting.

The bulky young man with black hair and a thick beard got up from his chair to greet them and held their chairs for them as they sat down. Both the girls rewarded him with a smile while Jennifer commented, "Always the chevalier, Victor!"

Thom was content to just nod through the thin frame of his glasses before turning his attention back to the computer tablet he was holding.

The girls spent the next ten minutes wolfing down the food on their plates and washing it down with large gulps of wine from their glasses, paying little attention to the boys and everyone else in the mess hall.

"I've got to say," Jennifer said after a while pushing her empty tray away, "the food is so much better than the gruel we had to endure the past weeks down in the dungeons." She bumped her chest lightly with her fist and let out a loud burp.

Sarah looked at her appalled and rolled her eyes while Victor erupted in his trademark hearty laughter.

"Uh-uh," Thom replied from the other side of the table, lost in whatever he was reading on his standard-issued electronic device. Jennifer had her own computer tablet, given to her by the Knight-Sergeant when she escorted her and the others to their living quarters, that was stashed underneath her pillow back on the top bunk bed.

Victor was content to keep quiet and continued to smile at her and Sarah revealing a set of incredibly large and square teeth. The large young orphan from Bulgaria reminded her of a cartoon she had the rare opportunity to watch as a child, back at the Clergy orphanage, concerning the exploits of a gentle giant who always managed to get into trouble with his simple but kind demeanor.

Jennifer had decided earlier, during their trial period, that she was quite fond of her two male squad-mates.

They had formed a bond between them, the four of them in Fury Squad Ten, when they were thrown together in a group by their drill Sergeants. She had found physical and emotional support in the two boys, who were both in their early twenties just like herself and Sarah, and although they had spoken little during the exercise routines and combat simulations they had all developed an appreciation for each other and their respectable strengths. A combination of strengths that had taken their squad all the way up to the top performing spots during the trials.

"So, do you, guys, have any idea what's waiting for us later in the special-ops armory?" Jennifer asked them in a casual tone trying to hide the excitement she was feeling.

"They are probably going to have us try out the new Jury-Class Mecha-Armors all the male officers have been going on about back in the eastern wing," Thom replied nonchalantly without lifting his eyes from his tablet's screen.

The two girls looked at each other and then at Thom, their mouths hanging open.

"The Mecha-what?" Jennifer finally asked.

The young man in the glasses lifted his head up from the screen. "The Mecha-Armors," he repeated. "They are the latest development in the Inquisition military and are specifically designed to counter the Lucidi in man-to-man combat."

"The Lucidi?" it was Sarah's turn to speak. "So they really exist?" she asked in an excited voice.

Thom stared at the brunette girl for a second trying to determine whether she was being serious. "Of course they exist," he replied. "Haven't you read about them in the academy's library? I thought it was standard for all squires to read up on the Order's history against the Lucidi and the Aurora Prime."

Sarah bit her bottom lip. "Of course I've read about them! It's just that I always thought that the false gods were a metaphor about the evils of mankind, not actual people who fire lightning bolts from their hands!" she continued in an annoyed tone.

"What else have you heard about the Lucidi, Thom?" Jennifer asked, changing the subject.

"Not much I guess," the young man shrugged his shoulders.

"Please, enlighten us," Jennifer insisted.

"Well it seems that there has been a recent resurgence of the Lucidi," Thom said. "A particular powerful group of them have managed to elude capture from the Order's forces, a little while back, slaughtering everyone and everything that had been pitted against them," he further explained. "Rumor has it, that they have an Aurora Prime in their midst, the likes of whom the Order hasn't witnessed for hundreds of years since the original Spanish Inquisition."

Jennifer swallowed hard. "Do you think we'll be fighting these Lucidi soon?" she asked softly, trying to mask the worry in her voice.

Thom took off his glasses and used the sleeve of his uniform to clean the lenses. He took but a few seconds then put them back on.

"I imagine so, yes," he replied sternly.

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# Chapter 7

"Are you seriously going to attach those pads to my breasts as well?" Jennifer asked the Knight-Sergeant, as the older woman glued two of the tiny electronic devices to her chest using some type of adhesive gel. She was furious she had spent the past half an hour or so naked, wearing only her panties, while Knight-Sergeant Harper helped her fit into her gigantic Mecha-Armor suit.

At first she was exhilarated to jump into the half opened suit, resembling a medieval robot Knight, but her excitement died quickly when she realized her naked body had to be covered, top to bottom, with an array of electrodes and sensors.

"The Armor is retrofitted with a vast number of transmitters and other monitoring equipment," Harper answered in monotone as she finished up attaching the last of the sensors to Jennifer's body. The pads were connected to various parts of the Armor with a series of multi-colored cables.

"The monitoring equipment will make sure the internal temperature of the suit remains constant regardless of the temperature of the environment you find yourself in," the older woman continued. It was almost an hour ago when she had picked all four them up from their quarters in the floor below and had led them through a series of check points to the tightly secure special-ops armory in the fourth floor.

There, she had led Jennifer to one of the armory's labs to help her put her Armor on while other staff had done the same with the rest of her squad.

"The Mecha-Armor will also inject your body with adrenaline and other stimulants should you require it," the Knight-Sergeant said as she got off the step ladder, looking pleased with herself. Jennifer had had to use a similar step ladder earlier to climb into the Armor.

"It will also cauterize any wounds that you may procure and pump antibiotics or anti-venoms into your bloodstream should the circumstances demand it," she said before moving to stand in front of the robotic suit.

"How do you feel, squire?" she asked Jennifer.

Jennifer tilted her head downwards to to look at Harper. She was towering almost three feet above the drill instructor's head. "Cold," she answered shivering, her naked body still exposed inside the opened up Mecha-Armor.

The Knight-Sergeant laughed loudly and placed her hand over the robotic suit's knee-pads. "Don't worry," she chuckled. "Once the suit closes around you and powers up, it will keep your body temperature optimal."

"And when's that going to happen?" Jennifer asked.

"Any minute now we're going to be green-lit to power you up." No sooner had Harper finished her sentence than her radio communicator went off. She turned on the hand-held device and held it close to her ear.

"Yes, sir," she spoke to radio. "We are good to go, sir, as well. Very well, sir," she said before putting her radio back into one of her uniform's side pockets.

"It seems that you are not going to suffer anymore, squire," she said smiling. "Time to rev this baby up!"

Jennifer smiled at the drill instructor, taking in the older woman's sudden excitement."So what do I do?" she asked.

"The suit's functions are mainly voice-activated," the Knight-Sergeant replied. "It is hardwired to your own unique voice print and will follow instructions the second they are voiced," she continued. "Should the voice-command system fail, you will learn how to program the suit's functions on one of the data-pads located inside your armor's mechanic gloves."

Jennifer reached with her fingers and traced the seemingly hundreds of small buttons all around the internal part of her armor's glove.

How the hell am I going to learn how to use all these, I can hardly use a computer properly, Jennifer thought in a panic.

"Whenever you're ready, squire," the Knight-Sergeant's voice brought her back to attention.

"What's the command then?" Jennifer asked.

"Activate, squire," Harper replied.

"Activate?"

Jennifer gasped at the feeling of the large robotic suit powering up. Within the space of one breath the front part of the Armor that was hanging in front of her snapped back forcefully engulfing her whole body inside of it. A veil of pure darkness engulfed her for a second before the insides of her helmet lit up, a myriad of scrolling digital texts filtering through her visors to the outside world.

Jennifer felt overwhelmed by the sheer genius of it all as her mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening inside the mechanical fortress that was her suit. She turned her head lightly to the side and felt the gigantic helmet, around her head, move accordingly with little effort. She tilted her head down again and stared at the woman in khakis through the robotic helmet's visors.

The Knight-Sergeant was smiling at her in triumph. Jennifer noted the information about the woman's heart rates, body temperature and other details that began scrolling in front of her eyes. She looked around the lab and marveled at the sheer complexity of information her internal visor system provided her with, as she scanned her surroundings.

"I feel ... empowered ..." she managed to say after a while, her voice coming through digitally from one of the helmet's comms.

"You certainly look the part," Harper replied, moving towards one of the lab's desks and typing something on one of the computers. A holographic image made its appearance in front of Jennifer, projected by one of the lab's ceiling projectors. It featured her Mecha-Armor in all its splendid glory.

Jennifer held her breath as she first laid eyes on the magnificent piece of machinery that was her Armor.

This is what I look like from the outside, she thought as she traced the details of the suit with her eyes. It looks very different to when I had to climb into it, it looks ... it looks complete ...

The Mecha-Armor towered almost eight feet above the ground on top of two gigantic mechanical legs, spreading half a foot in diameter. The arms of the suit were equally thick and were connected to the torso, which in turn, was covered by a thick steel breastplate like most of the suit was. Glimpses of the complex electronic and hydraulic systems could be seen below the various parts of the armoring, hydraulics that were moving constantly to provide support and balance.

The external design of the armor resembled closely the medieval armors worn by the Order's Knights throughout the Middle Ages, having the closest resemblance to those worn by the Knights of Castle Churburg during the second half of the fourteenth century. The suit was painted in black and white colors and the various details on it were greatly exaggerated to match the rest of its menacing look. A large metallic crest, depicting a raven spreading its wings, decorated the center of the suit's chest with black and white stripes leading outwards and towards the edges of the suit's helmet, making it look like it was decorated in black feathers.

Jennifer fell instantly in love with the Armor and its fierce display of sheer power that lay hidden within its mechanical layers.

"I love it ..." she breathed after a while, not realizing her voice was being transmitted through her helmet's open comms.

"How can you not?" Harper laughed. "I am feeling jealous already," the older woman continued excitedly. "Now, try to move forward, squire," she said in a commanding tone.

Jennifer moved her right leg forward. As soon as the muscles contracted the Armor responded to her leg's sudden movement by launching one of its mechanical legs forward and slamming it with incredible force on the floor.

Harper had just enough time to jump out of the way before getting crushed under the weight of the Armor's foot.

"Crap! I am sorry!" Jennifer's panicked voice came through the helmet's voice comm. "I didn't mean to do that! I just moved my leg a little and the suit jumped forward!"

"That's alright, squire," Harper replied adjusting the cap on her head. "You need to relax in there," she instructed the young girl. "The suit is detecting the tension in your muscles and is simulating fight or flight conditions. You need to calm yourself down and be gentle with it."

"Gentle? Are you kidding me? This thing feels like it weighs twenty tons or more!"

"It doesn't matter, the hydraulic system is in place to handle the weight, not you," Harper continued. "The sensors mobilize the suit matching the strength of your own actions inside it. Now relax and try to move forward again," she commanded.

This is madness, Jennifer thought to herself and performed a series of controlled breathing exercises forcing the muscles in her arms and legs to relax. She locked her gaze forward and tried again, this time trying to act as if she was taking a stroll by the beach on a sunny summer afternoon.

The Armor moved gently with her taking a few steps forward in a series of loud thumps.

"Very good, squire," Harper said looking pleased. "You look like you're getting the hang of it, now try to move your arms as well."

Jennifer obeyed the woman's command stretching her arms sideways and upwards. The suit mimicked her arms' movements in perfect unison.

"Very good, now try to pick up one of the step ladders, next to you, in your hand."

Jennifer did as the drill instructor requested. She put the giant palm of the suit around the step ladder and clasped her fingers. The suit's fist closed, breaking the metal object into smithereens.

"The strength of the suit is unreal!" Jennifer gasped.

The Knight-Sergeant looked at her in amusement. "Keep trying, squire, and remember, go easy!"

Jennifer tried again, this time pretending to pick up a piece of delicately fragile china. She felt the mechanical fingers close around the object tightly enough to hold it but gently enough as not to break it and let out a cry of triumph, catching Harper giving her the thumbs up from the corner of her eye.

Twenty minutes later, and after performing a series of exercises to get her accustomed to the suit's basic motor functions, Harper led her to the main hall of the armory where the rest of her squad-mates were already gathered, kitted up in their own Mecha-Armors, alongside a cheerful crowd of officers and engineering personnel.

Jennifer moved her suit to stand next to the rest of her crew waiting for her. As she positioned herself next to them, she took a few moments to study the differences between her squad-mates' own suits. Sarah's Armor looked smaller than her own, almost half in width, and was equipped with a range of antennas and panels, resembling tiny satellite dishes, that were protruding from the back of her suit. Thom's Armor looked almost identical to her own whereas Victor's was two feet higher than the rest and almost double the width, with a pair of canons mounted on his huge shoulder-guards.

Jennifer could not make out the faces on her squad-mates underneath their Armor but she knew they were grinning, just like her.

"Welcome, Ravens," Major Wold's voice brought everyone's attention to his person. He was standing in the center of the armory as he addressed the crowd gathered and was wearing the same combat armor the rest of the battalion wore that same morning. His chest was decorated with a crest depicting a raven spreading its wings, the same one Jennifer and the others wore on their Mecha-Armors. Jennifer noticed the same crest sewn on all of the personnel's uniforms as well.

"Welcome," Wold repeated again. "It's a personal pleasure to welcome you all to the special-ops division of our military installation, here in Northern Ireland. I would like to congratulate each and every one of you, the creme de la creme  of our military and engineering personnel, and of course our young recruits from former Fury Squad Ten."

He lifted his fist in the air before shouting, "We are the Ravens, and we bring death and destruction!"

Everyone in the small crowd broke into loud cheers, patting each other on the back and shaking hands. Jennifer turned her head to her left, towards the rest of her squad, and nodded at them. They all nodded back.

Wold lifted his hand signaling everyone to quiet down. "I'd also like to remind you that our Division's operational mandate is extremely classified and falls outside regular Inquisition jurisdiction," he stated in a serious tone, his eyes sparkling. "You answer to no one else other than the Knight-General Sir Robert Anderson himself!"

Jennifer felt a shiver crawl up her spine as she recalled the old man's eyes gazing at her that fateful morning in the academy.

"But enough with this bollocks, already!" he shouted again, making the crowd break into another cheer. "Let's get those Raven Squad babies out there and see what they are made of!"

Everyone turned their attention to the four squires, as Knight-Sergeant Harper made her way next to Jennifer's Armor and said in an excited tone, "This is our cue, squires!"

Jennifer looked around the giant hall of the armory in sincere puzzlement. "How the hell are we supposed to get out of here in these giant suits?" she asked the older woman. "We can't fit through the doors!"

Harper looked at her with an amused look on her face and laughed. "Doors? We don't need no stinking doors!"

With a wave of her hand, a set of two giant hangar-bay doors opened to reveal the blue horizon spreading out over the green fields below.

"You've got to be kidding me," Jennifer muttered as she followed the Knight-Sergeant to the edge of the bay-doors , the rest of her squad following closely behind. She felt a slight dizziness, standing so close to the edge and gazing at the vastness of the view unfolding below her. It was an awe-inspiring sight that was made all the more surreal by the presence of the digital data flowing constantly in front of her eyes, courtesy of the mechanical monster she found herself encased in.

"The Armors are equipped with a series of thrusters and afterburners offering short flight capabilities and allowing you to perform giant leaps, should you require it," Jennifer heard Harper's shout over the furious winds blowing around them. "All you have to do is jump, just make sure you put enough strength in your muscles this time around. The suit will take care of the rest!"

Jennifer turned around to look at her squad. Sarah was the one standing right behind her. Jennifer saw her friend perform a small nod, inside her Armor, and give her a thumbs up.

Well, here goes nothing, she thought to herself and jumped forward. She held her breath as she hovered in the air for a second before the Armor's afterburners fired up and propelled her forward with incredible force.

She let out a cry of triumph as she leaped forward, the ground below her passing by at blazing speeds. She looked sideways and saw Sarah, Thom, and Victor catch up with her, flying in their giant mechanical Knights too, their mechanical armor reflecting the last sunrays of the afternoon sun, an echo of loud cheers coming from the base behind them.

"Ravens! Rally to me!" she shouted into her comm and aimed for the small clearing below them.

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# Chapter 8

"I've had enough for today, stay away from me! I mean it!" Alice heard her friend shout, in a state of rage, to the small crowd of people gathered around him.

"Mark, you're being unreasonable," she started to say to him but he stopped her with a wave of his hand. He was clearly in no mood to discuss what had happened any further.

Alice let out a sigh. She felt frustration at her friend and his apparent inability to follow their trainers' instructions.

"Okay folks, time to take five and clear our heads," Peter Blaze tried to diffuse the situation. They had spent the whole morning, the three of them, Mark, Jose, and herself, alongside Richard Feist's team trying to hone their abilities.

Their designated training area was an abandoned mining facility, deep within the jungle, that provided the necessary open space for their training sessions as well as protection from prying eyes. Hiroko had transported the six of them there, in a series of consecutive teleports, after driving for a couple of hours or so away from their base in the city and towards the innards of the rain forest in the south.

Alice's stomach churned at the memory of Hiroko's leaps and the loss of orientation they caused as the black void engulfed their senses before spitting them out in their new location. The outfits they all had to wear during training, the dark blue vinyl uniforms with the symbol of a white lightning bolt on the chest, were supposed to numb the ill-inducing effects of the leaps but it certainly did not feel like they did.

Richard had tried to explain the physics behind the Japanese's girl leaping capabilities numerous times in the past months; how she could momentarily hijack the electromagnetic waves around the planet and allow matter to ride them to a nearby location of her choosing but the scientific details of this incredible feat were all but lost on Alice. She just knew she hated the feeling and that was enough for her.

"Mark Prior, come back, the jungle is not a safe place to the uninitiated," she heard Dancing Wind shout as her friend stormed off in the direction of the trees. Mark pretended not to hear the large man and carried on with his stiff gait.

"Don't worry, I'll go get him," Jose volunteered before running after their sandy-haired friend.

Alice stared at Jose's long black hair, as he ran after Mark, and tried to make sense of the situation. It was nearly noon and they had spent the whole morning, like every other day, at the mine, performing a series of exercises that were designed by Richard himself to help them improve and perfect their skills and combat readiness.

She always looked forward to those training sessions and the opportunity they gave her to explore the limits of her physical abilities and the control she could assert over the blue lightning that resided inside of her, the miraculous force that could either be used to destroy or to heal.

Her friends, on the other hand, were a completely different story. From the moment they stepped foot in Brazil, they were actively resisting everything about their new lives. It was as if they wanted to pretend that nothing was different about who they were and that they weren't caught, like herself and everyone else around them, in the web of these new extraordinary circumstances.

That morning was particularly bad. Mark had kept complaining since the early hours of the morning, when they set off on the journey into the jungle, turning everyone's mood sour. It had gotten progressively worse as the hours passed and they had to perform their exercise routine where they were pitted against the older members of the team. During these routines, they had to use their physical and super-physical skills to defend themselves against Hiroko's, Blaze's and Dancing Wind's coordinated attacks.

Mark, as usual, was the focal point of the older group's attacks and they were extremely harsh on him, whether due to all the frustration he had caused or due to Richard's guidelines Alice did not know.

Alice had almost no use for her lightning shield the whole time due to all the attention Mark was getting and Jose had spent the whole time on the sidelines where he'd even started to roll a cigarette at some point.

Mark, on the other hand, was getting pounded and he was getting pounded hard. Peter Blaze kept on creating walls of fire around him pushing him from one side of the camp to the other whereas Dancing Wind was using his wind manipulation powers to lift her poor friend into the air and then slam him forcefully onto the ground. At the same time, Hiroko was leaping all around him, riling him up and trying to taunt him into assuming his insectoid form, in between throwing a few punches in his face, ribs and abdomen.

Alice knew the ultimate goal was to goad Mark into morphing but their methods were clearly not working. He seemed determined not to let his powers take over, short of being on the brink of death itself, and deep down he knew that no matter how hard the others worked him, they were never going to push it that far.

"Alice Elwes, are you feeling alright?" Dancing Wind's voice broke through her train of thoughts. "Is there something wrong?"

Alice looked down at her body and realized her lightning shield was up and exponentially growing by the second. She took a deep breath and drew it all back in.

"No, I am okay," she replied. "It's just that sometimes my powers act on their own accord based on my emotional state of being at the time."

The young native American lifted an eyebrow at her.

"I am feeling frustrated, that's all," she explained. "It seems that we're getting nowhere, trying to help my friend and all."

The man said nothing but merely performed a small nod.

After a while, both Jose and Mark emerged from the jungle, the latter having the longest face and looking as moody as ever.

"Right, I think we've got as much training as circumstances will allow for one day folks," Peter Blaze shouted at everyone throwing in a veiled jab at her friends. The American with the bleached blonde hair had a sarcastic demeanor, half of the time you couldn't be sure whether he was talking seriously or making fun of you, in some elaborate way, when he addressed you.

"Hey, Mark, are you feeling any better?" Alice went over to her friend to make sure he was alright.

"I am fine! Leave me alone!" he snarled at her in reply and turned his back to her.

"I am hungry," Jose chimed in as he drew close, puffing away on one of his stinky cigarettes. "Are we going to make it back to the base in time for lunch?"

Alice walked to the nearest table, in the base's cantina, holding her tray of food and sat down. She scanned the other tables for any sign of her friends but they were nowhere to be seen.

It was late afternoon and the cantina was mostly empty with the few people present enjoying a cup of coffee or two, in between whatever assignment they had for the day. There were roughly a hundred people living in the base and since there was no maintenance staff, due to security reasons, everyone had to do their part to make sure habitable living conditions were kept, including cleaning, cooking, maintenance, as well as manning and providing support to the base's science and medical labs.

Alice took out her phone from her jean's back pocket and stared at the picture decorating its screen. It was a self-picture of her and Telemachus, in the garden of their house in Greece, laughing at the camera.

She held that memory, of their first day in their new home, closely to her heart. She longed to be back in his arms again. Never before had they been separated for such a long period of time. A separation, which, despite Richard's reassurances that he was doing everything in his power to track her boyfriend down, drove a nail deep into her heart every single day they passed apart.

What if something has happened to him, what if he's hurt or worse, she thought. She planted a soft kiss on the screen and put the phone back in her pocket before concentrating on the gravy-coated roasted vegetables sitting on her plate.

"Hello, Alice, do you mind if we sit with you?" Alice turned her head around to see Pablo and Jenna, both holding their own trays of food.

"No, by all means, please sit," she answered politely trying not to choke on a piece of char-coaled broccoli.

Alice was fond of the couple, the Argentinian leaper and the American bruiser, as both of them were one of the first to welcome her and her friends to their new home at the underground base and had tried, time and again, to make her feel part of the Organization's extended family. Their loving demeanor with each other was a form of reassurance in those chaotic times and she often found that they reminded her, in many ways, of an older version of herself and Telemachus as they laughed, cuddled, or argued in their everyday life at the base.

She also had the opportunity to witness them both in action while they trained and felt awe at the incredible combination of agility and brute force they had displayed while fighting in perfect unison.

"So how are you this fine morning, Chiquita?" the thirty-five year old, with the farcical code-name Ninja Latino, asked her after they had all finished eating. He was toying with a toothpick, chewing on it loudly, much to the annoyance of his female counterpart.

"I am okay, I think," Alice answered. "Just another day at boot-camp I guess."

Jenna threw her a knowing look. She was conscious of the trouble her friends were causing but, like everyone else in the base, had little to say about it, leaving it to the appointed leader, Richard in this case, to sort out the issues within his team.

"Don't you worry, Chiquita," Pablo continued, spitting out the toothpick onto the floor, and replacing it with another. Jenna threw him a venomous look but said nothing. "I am sure Richard will whip your boys into shape before long. They can't all be great students like you, can they?"

Alice smiled at Pablo's compliment but it wasn't enough to lift her spirits. She felt that the situation with Mark and Jose was close to reaching a dead-end and she did not look forward to that moment arriving.

"Why don't you ask Richard to ..." Jenna started but she was quickly interrupted by the sound of the walling speakers coming to life.

"Can I have your attention, please, everyone," Dr. Hoch's strong German accent echoed throughout the cantina. "Your presence is requested at the Amphitheater, in approximately half an hour from now. Our research and medical teams have a very important announcement to make, one of great significance and concern to all of us, and our leadership would greatly appreciate if none of you miss it. Thank you!"

Alice looked at the couple in sincere puzzlement. "What do you think it is?" she asked them after a while. "Do you think it's related to the storm artifact we brought back from England?"

"I don't know," Jenna replied excitedly as she and her partner got up from their chairs. "But I, sure as hell, can't wait to find out!"

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# Chapter 9

The Amphitheater was buzzing with people by the time Alice made her way there. The massive room, located in the far west side of the first underground level, had served as some sort of storage space, in the past, before it was turned into the Organization's primary choice for official gatherings. More than two hundred seats occupied its length and width that surrounded the central stage area amid all the standard hi-tech equipment that was a common sight throughout the whole base.

Alice scanned the crowd scattered throughout the massive room and tried to find Jose and Mark. They were nowhere to be seen, which was extremely puzzling, since she had spent the past half an hour or so looking for them, first in their quarters then in the various common areas.

"Alice! Over here!" Alice heard Jenna shout over the commotion. She turned her attention to the American woman waving at her and walked down the stairs, maneuvering through the gathered crowd towards her. Jenna was sitting, alongside the rest of her team, in the front rows, gracing them with one of the best views to the stage areas.

"We saved you a place next to us!" the older woman giggled excitedly as she pointed at the reserved seat next to her and Pablo.

Alice thanked her and sat down, just as the leaders of the Organization made their appearance, followed by a group of scientists and medical personnel. They walked solemnly to the stage and sat at their chairs behind a wide curved desk, situated on the center of the stage and filled with a large assortment of computer equipment.

The lights were dimmed and everyone went quiet as the large monitor lit up behind those on stage. Alice could make out Richard on stage as well as Michael Merchor, the Peruvian ex-general who could punch through concrete walls with his fists, and Andromaque Felicien, the former counter-intelligence specialist turned empath from the French Network and Information Security Agency.

Those three were the holy triad behind every major decision in the Organization, the three people who were burdened with the impossible task of keeping everyone safe while looking out for new Sparks popping up around the globe.

On their side, among the rest of the scientists, there was none other than Dr. Hoch himself, the head of Science Division and an accomplished master of moving objects with his mere thoughts, who was busy fidgeting with a computer in front of him.

"Before we begin," Alice heard the French woman speak on the microphone, "I'd like to take the opportunity to thank you all for being here with us and helping our small community to become the marvel that it is today. None of the small miracles we have performed here would have been possible if it wasn't for the heroic deeds of the brave men and women I see in front of me this evening."

A loud cheer broke out from the crowd accompanied with intense clapping of hands. The woman smiled at the crowd and lifted her right fist in salutation. As the cheers eventually quieted down, she resumed her narrative.

"We have gathered you all here, this fateful evening in October, for no small purpose," she said in a serious tone. "As you may all know, for the past three months all operations have been put on hold as we have been trying to decipher the message we believed was hidden inside the Stormcall artifact. The same artifact that was secured, under extremely dangerous circumstances, by Richard Feist and his team in Glastonbury, England," she said while pointing at Richard.

The crowd broke into another cheer at the mention of the man with the goatee. He stood up from his seat and waved back at everyone before sitting down again.

Everyone loves Richard, Alice thought at the crowd's reaction, it makes sense, he's the one responsible for finding and helping everyone when they needed it the most.

"Yesterday," the woman continued, "our comrades in the Science Division finally managed to do what we believed was impossible, they managed to break the code hidden inside the artifact and uncover the secret behind the existence of our supernatural abilities."

Everyone gasped at the French woman's words. Alice swallowed hard as she felt a rush of excitement surge through her body.

Can it be true, she thought, are we finally going to learn how our powers came to be?

Everyone in the Amphitheater went silent. Alice took a moment to look around her, at the faces of her newfound family. Everyone seemed to be hanging on the French woman's words, eagerly awaiting for what she had to say next.

"So without any further ado, I am going to pass the microphone to our great Dr. Hoch who will be the one to explain things more thoroughly," she finally said before assuming her seat behind the desk.

"Ja, danke, my dear," Dr. Hoch said over the microphone after standing up. He fiddled with his small, oval-shaped, glasses for a second then punched a series of buttons on his computer. The giant screen behind him flashed with a photograph of the Stormcall artifact.

Alice, along with everyone else, stared at the screen displaying the object she so vividly remembered from that night in Glastonbury. The artifact resembled a large orb, the size of a football, secured within the confines of a black pyramid that was made out of some sort of granite stone and about an arm's length in size. Inside the orb, the same blue lightning that haunted her dreams raged in perpetual motion.

Alice recalled how it was her unique powers that had unlocked the invisible wall that guarded the object, hidden within the alien-looking underground complex below the circle of stones. Richard and his team were delighted that their gamble had paid off. She also remembered reaching out to the object and how the blue and white lightning responded to her as if it recognized the power burning inside of her as something of its own.

"As you all know, the Mesozoic artifact you all see displayed on the screen has been the object of our research since the first years of the Organization's existence," the old man's voice brought her back from her distracted state.

"We had, originally, come across its existence from bits of information stolen from our enemies. The Clergy and their Inquisitors have always been privy to the forgotten knowledge that lay hidden within the artifact, as we strongly suspect that they have always had one of their own ... but, I am proud to announce that we are in the dark no longer! The time has come when we can finally discover our past and our legacy!"

The giant screen lit up again, this time displaying various charts that outlined the history of human evolution throughout the millennium.

"Let me ask you this, my fellow camaraden, what do we know of our human ancestors?" Dr. Hoch asked no one in particular. "Established scientific knowledge traces the first modern humans fifty to a hundred thousand years ago, emerging to replace the previous iteration of the Homo Erectus."

Images flashed in succession displaying various pictures of human fossils and drawings of the Homo Erectus, Homo Sapiens and their evolutionary transformation to modern man.

"However, we have always suspected that this established knowledge was built on false premises, as demonstrated by various discoveries throughout the centuries; the most recent one being the Petralona cave dig in Greece, where human remains, aged as eight hundred thousand years old, were found next to what is, undoubtedly, evidence of technology previously unheard of for that period."

The image of a human skull encased in stalactite appeared on the screen making Alice shudder in her seat.

"What we now know for sure is that all this is definitely not true, as radiocarbon dating has shown, in the case of our so-called Stormcall artifact. We have been able to date its origin all the way back to the Mesozoic era, sixty five million years in the past!"

The doctor took a moment to clean his glasses with the handkerchief he had pulled out from the pocket of his white coat, then carried on.

"Like I said, we have been successful in deciphering the lightning's pulsation inside the orb, using specific sets of prime number algorithms. Thus, we were able to discover one of the main purposes of the orb, which was none other than the preservation of the history of the human race that built it," he concluded before pausing again.

"So what you're, essentially, saying, Doc, is that somehow we all got turned into super freaks because of some kind of human civilization that existed alongside the bloody dinosaurs?" Alice was surprised to hear Mark's voice, from the back of the Amphitheater, break the silence.

Annoyed murmurs from the crowd ensued and Alice sighed in exasperation.

It's so like Mark to manage to interrupt the doctor and insult everyone else in the space of one sentence, she thought.

"That word is not the one I'd use, but ja, you are correct in your assumption, young man," Dr. Hoch replied making everyone go quiet again.

"The information that we have on this Mesozoic human civilization is in pieces, since we are still processing the massive amounts of information stored within the Stormcall artifact, but what we can say for sure is that it was a highly technological one, more so than us. They were able to construct this incredible piece of technological wonder, and that was only a small demonstration of what they were really capable of ..."

"So what happened to them, then?" it was Jose's turn to interrupt the doctor. Alice turned around and tried to look for her friends in the back but she couldn't make them out in the crowd.

"Ja, if you'd let me finish, young man," Dr. Hoch replied impatiently, "I was about to say that we strongly believe that this Mesozoic civilization was also the one responsible for creating the various lightning artifacts that lay scattered today around the globe. The very same ones that were responsible for equipping every single one of you, in here, with your supernatural abilities."

There was another moment of silence before Richard Feist's voice filled in the void between the doctor's narration. "What the good doctor here is trying to say, people, is that we are the products of a scientific experiment," he said.

"Ja, dear Richard," the doctor resumed, "we are indeed the result of such an experiment, one that was conducted under the most extraordinary circumstances!"

"What do you mean by that, doctor?" someone else shouted from the crowd.

"I mean that the whole process of building the lightning artifacts was one made out of desperation, primarily," the doctor replied.

"Let me explain further ... like I mentioned earlier on, what we know of this Mesozoic civilization of man, or the Zicans as we started calling them in the lab, is that they were a highly evolved breed of humans ..."

The doctor stopped his narrative, much to the annoyance of the crowd, to pull out another handkerchief, which he promptly used to blow his nose loudly, right next to the microphone.

"However, for all their high intellect and remarkable technological advancement, they were not able to defend themselves against the Extinction Event of the late Mesozoic period, the rain of meteorites that rendered most of the surface of the planet uninhabitable and proceeded to wipe out almost all forms of life, including that of the dinosaurs."

"From the fragments of information we have been able to decipher, we know that they had predicted those cataclysmic events that would, undoubtedly, lead to their annihilation and the lightning artifacts were constructed, in response, as a means of escaping the cruel fate the universe had in store for them."

"You see, they knew they weren't going to be able to stop the collision course of the asteroids towards earth so they attempted to jump start their evolutionary process instead, manipulating the electromagnetic energy that is surrounding our beautiful planet and turning themselves into something new ... something that would be able to make it through the hell fire of their upcoming apocalypse ..."

Alice held her breath. The Amphitheater went so quiet she could swear she could have heard a pin drop in the massive room.

"We know that there was a huge division between them on the proposed course of action. One group was focused on using the artifacts as conduits to unlock parts of their genetic makeup that would allow them to perform supernatural feats, like the ones we are capable of doing today ourselves. They thought that they'd be able to withstand the hostile environment created by the meteor rain."

"The other group was focused on attempting to turn themselves into beings that they thought would be capable of what we've been able to translate as inter-dimensional travel!"

Everyone gasped. "Who won the argument?" the same voice, as earlier on, came from the crowd.

"We don't know," Dr. Hoch replied in earnest. "We do know, though, that they definitely ran out of time. They all must have perished in the cataclysm that followed and the small number of lightning artifacts, now scattered around our planet, were left incomplete, not being able to perform their original function as they should ..."

"What the kind doctor here is trying to say ladies and gents," Richard Feist's voice was heard once again over the microphone, "is that the chance of actually surviving the lightning storm and coming out of it the other side, not to mention having super-natural abilities on top of that, is an extreme rarity ... so you should all consider yourselves extremely lucky to be standing here, alive, with us."

"Ja, exactly," Dr. Hoch agreed. "This would, to some extent, explain the fear and caution most ancient civilizations showed when coming into contact with the lightning statues and why they usually turned them into items of divine worship ... but I digress, this is a discussion for another time ..."

A picture of the Stormcall artifact appeared again on the screen rotating, so it was visible from all angles, this time next to the lightning bolt statuette Alice remembered from the cave. Her vision turned hazel blue for a second and a shiver ran down her spine as the memory of the blue lightning was conjured forth from her memory. She took a deep breath and smiled in a reassuring way at Jenna who had noticed the sudden spark of blue energy in her pupils and was now looking at her worryingly.

On stage, Dr. Hoch was wrapping up his oration, "... and with that I'd like to note that both these two types of artifacts sum our total knowledge of the Zicans ... of course this does not imply that we are currently a hundred percent sure of the artifacts' full capabilities or their true purpose or even if there are other types of them, hidden, that we are unaware of ... the possibilities are endless ..."

"Thank you, doctor, if that'll be all," Richard's voice interrupted the old man's rambling.

"Ja, that's fine, my dear Richard," he said before turning off the display.

The lights abruptly turned bright again, as the doctor moved away from the microphone, making everyone blink and rub their eyes in response as they started to chat excitedly between them.

Alice felt lost in thought, the revelation about her new self had left her with a feeling of loss and powerlessness, once again, a simple pawn in a game rigged by fate. A game with an ending she could not even begin to fathom or understand her place in it.

"Before everyone goes about their business, we have another announcement to make," Richard spoke in a serious tone making everyone turn their attention to the stage.

"In light of these revelations, we are canceling all operations and training as to divert more resources into further understanding what we are dealing with ... and how we can use this information for the promotion of the Organization's welfare," he carried on. "For this reason, you are all entitled to a small holiday break but please remain readily available, in case your specific talents and skill-sets are required."

"And on that note, you are all free to go and enjoy some quality time before I change my mind and decide to throw you in the meat grinder again," he said before leaving the stage along with the rest of the leadership and the science-medical crew.

A loud buzz broke out as people chatted and laughed, exhilarated at the unexpected prospect of holiday time.

Alice got up from her chair and looked for Mark and Jose in the background. She caught a glimpse of their backs as they made their way out of the Amphitheater along with a group of people she was not familiar with.

Alice shouted their names as loud as she could, trying to make herself heard over the loud commotion around her. Jose stopped and turned around for a second, gracing her with a wave of his hand, before turning around again and following Mark towards the exit.

Damn you, guys, what is wrong with you? Why won't you talk to me? Alice thought angrily as she stared at their backs.

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# Chapter 10

"Jose, are you going to open that damn door or what?" I shouted angrily at the thick bunk door to my friend's room. The bottom half of my palm was sore as I had spent the past five minutes banging on its rusty metallic surface to no avail.

There was no answer.

I let out a sigh, irritated at the prospect of having to look for him elsewhere in the base when I had specifically asked him to wait for me in his room. I banged the door one last time and turned around to leave.

I couldn't have taken two steps away when I heard Jose's muffled voice coming from the other side of the thick steel that separated his small room from the rest of the corridor.

"I'll be right with you, compadre!" I heard him say. "Just give me two more minutes!"

I rolled my eyes and muttered a few curses under my breath. I leaned against the wall opposite and waited, staring at my surroundings.

It was a miserable sight. Our rooms were situated in the third basement, the deepest part of the Organization's underground complex and to make it worse our rooms were as far apart as possible, no doubt under Richard's orders. A long narrow corridor, barely wide enough for two people to fit through, connected the mostly abandoned rooms in a straight line. Faded bulbs on the ceiling emanated what could only be described as a semblance of brightness, giving the depressing scenery its final touches.

I had developed a deep hatred for my new home, in the short period of time that I had to endure living there, and I tried to spend as little time as I could inside my room and as much time as possible away from it, on the upper floors above or in the colorful streets of Sao Paolo.

It had only been a few days since Richard and the leaders of the Organization had dangled the carrot of vacation time in front of our eyes, after their big revelation in the Amphitheater, concerning the origins of our powers, and Jose and I were ready to set our plan in motion.

Everyone in the base was ecstatic about those revelations and the mysterious Zican civilization, but my friend and I could not care less about it. We were hell bent on escaping the ridiculous reality we were caught in and that was constantly unfolding around us, further trapping us in its web of entanglement.

This is how people living inside submarines must feel, I brought my attention back to my surroundings while I tapped my fingers absently on the dirty concrete wall.

There were other people living down here with us of course, members of other teams that Jose and I barely spoke to other than the obligatory good morning and good evening with the occasional chit chat. We kept mostly to ourselves, preferring the reassuring company of each other to the craziness unfolding everyday around us amid the ranks of our new surrogate family of super beings.

Alice of course was offered a place in the upper levels with the rest of the leaders of the Organization and the science crew as part of her growing importance in the Organization's ongoing affairs. At first she was hesitant, not wanting to be separated from us, but she eventually caved in to Richard's persistent demands to be relocated next to the lab. Her powers were integral to unraveling the secrets hidden within the Stormcall, he had said.

Plus, there was also the fact that she was the first healer to be manifested in nearly a decade and the medical crew was anxious to have her close if situations arose that required her highly effective, albeit unconventional, healing powers.

I can't believe I have turned all sour for the girl I used to be madly in love with, I mentally reprimanded myself as impatience started to wash over me.

I picked up a little piece of concrete from the floor and threw it at the metal door. It landed with a light clang and fell back to the floor.

"Jose, I swear if you don't open that damn door right now, I'll turn into a giant centipede and kick your hairy butt all the way back to Valencia!" I shouted.

Just before I had time to fling a second piece of concrete at it, the metal door rattled loudly, as it unlocked from the inside, and got pushed open. The rusty hinges echoed loudly down the empty corridor and a tall figure emerged out of Jose's dimly lit dwellings.

My jaw fell at the sight of the brunette bombshell coming out of my friend's room. It was Clara, none other than the Italian ex-supermodel, who had mysteriously disappeared a few years ago from the international fashion limelight, now turned tempest and a major acting field commander for one of the Organization's most lethal teams, the Elementals.

Clara was gifted with the ability to conjure earth tremors strong enough to level a building and fought alongside three other tempests who, in turn, could bring forth incredibly destructive mastery by exercising their control over fire, wind, and water.

"Hello, Mark," she smiled at me and walked past, strutting casually down the long corridor towards the direction of the main staircase.

I stared at her shapely backside, clad in tight khakis and a crop top, disappear into the corridor and blinked. I turned my attention back to the entrance and found my friend standing there looking sheepish.

"What the hell was she, of all people, doing in your room?" I asked him incredulously.

"Well ... it's a long story ..." he replied still looking like the subject was making him feel highly uncomfortable.

"You know that the fire guy in the Elementals is her boyfriend right?" I continued. "He'll burn you down to a crisp before you have time to say fried tortilla if he ever finds out you're sleeping with his girl!"

"Well ... that's the thing ..." Jose mumbled. "We haven't slept together ... we were fully clothed the whole time we were in my room ..."

I scratched my head. "What were you doing then," I pressed him on. "And why didn't you open the door five minutes ago!"

"Come in inside, compadre, and I'll tell you all about it," he replied and grabbed me by the arm.

I followed him into the tight confines of what constituted his room and sat at the metallic chair by the small desk next to his bunk bed.

He sat on the bed, opposite me, and started to roll up a cigarette with great concentration.

"You are not getting out of this you know," I smirked. "What was the hottest girl in the base doing in your room, mate, at four in the afternoon?"

"Well ... you know how I had to spend all yesterday morning in the lab with Dr. Horror, because he wanted to explore different aspects of my power set, as he said?" he asked me.

I nodded my head in agreement. I had to go through the same torturous process of re-evaluating, even though I had not actually morphed into anything since the events in Glastonbury.

In my case, Dr. Hoch was incredibly curious to discover the reasons behind my newfound appetite for fruit. He had argued that it was possible that my gravitation towards sugary treats was possibly due to the fact that my new biological processes required the most optimal source of sustenance and that was highly dependent on which form I was in at the time, fruit being the prime choice for what he referred to as my human form.

When I had asked him whether that meant that I had to abstain from meat, he had advised me that I should just follow my new instincts and that'd probably be enough since he needed more data to make a more informed decision.

"So, anyways," my friend carried on, "the Doctor was really curious as to why my empathic powers seem to be inconsistent against the other super-powered people in the base."

"He was worried that it could potentially constitute a security risk should the Inquisition find a way to mimic our people's natural resistance to empathic suggestion," Jose continued in a highly exaggerated German accent, mocking Dr. Hoch's mannerisms.

"You mean like those special forces in Soho Square," I interrupted him.

"Yeah, something like that," he replied, lightning up his cigarette. He took a few puffs and resumed his narration. "He wanted me to try and work out a secondary array of empathic manipulations, this time focused on the actual nervous system of the person rather than their emotional aura."

"So did you manage to do it?" I asked, my curiosity sparked.

"Do what?" he asked in sincere puzzlement blowing out the cigarette smoke from his nostrils.

"Do that extra thing with your powers, you dumb ass!"

"Oh yeah, that," he puffed again on his smoke then threw the butt on the floor. He extinguished it with his boot then looked at me with a cheeky smile on his face. "Turns out, I can also create sparks of electromagnetic energy right at the tip of a person's nerve endings, making them feel extreme pain or pleasure ..."

"Right ..." it all started dawning on me.

"Yep," he continued, "Clara was present at the lab when I first tried it with Dr. Hoch. He made me send a jolt of pain right through his brain cortex although I didn't want to. He almost collapsed from the migraine ..."

"Is he alright?" I asked worryingly. I didn't feel like having any unexpected trouble with Richard that could potentially jeopardize our plan.

"Yeah, he was fine," Jose waved his hand nonchalantly. "Anyways, to cut a long story short, guess who knocked at my door while you were away ..." he asked me.

"Uh-huh," I replied.

"It was Clara," he said as he licked a new cigarette longways. "She had witnessed the whole thing in the lab and she wanted to be the first person who'd experience my empathic pleasure assault!"

"Pleasure ... what ... are you being serious?"

"Her words not mine, compadre," he replied. "Anyways, like I said, we were dressed the whole time she was here, we didn't even touch! She just sat on the bed while I kept sending waves of pleasure down her neural system ..."

"I am at a loss for words," I spoke out my mind.

"It's a good thing we are in the bottom level, I was worried her moans would be heard all the way up to the cantina," he chuckled then his expression turned serious.

"Do you want me to demonstrate it on you?" he asked.

"Eh, that's just too weird, mate, I think I'll pass," I grimaced.

"Suit yourself, compadre," he said and resumed smoking.

"Let's just hope word of your little escapade doesn't reach unwanted ears," I cautioned.

"It doesn't matter," he replied defiantly. "We are getting the hell out of here, aren't we, compadre?"

"Yeah, we are, mate," I smiled at him. "I managed to pester Richard into letting us have the weekend off and visit Rio de Janeiro. We are leaving tomorrow, so better start packing!"

"Puta madre!" he jumped up from the bed. "That's fantastic news!"

"There's a catch though," I continued. "He won't let us go on our own, without supervision, so he's assigning someone to babysit us the whole time we're there ..."

"Hijo de puta!" Jose cursed. He threw the cigarette butt on the floor, next to the previous one, and stomped on it angrily. He then paced across the narrow room before saying in a calmer tone, "It doesn't matter, we can still escape, it'll just need a bit more planning that's all."

"I am glad you feel this way, mate," I replied.

"What about Alice?" he asked, his eyes troubled. "Are we going to leave her behind?"

"It's out of our hands, mate," I shrugged. "Richard asked me not to tell her anything because she's too busy working with the science team. They want to use her lightning shield in conjunction with the Stormcall and try to extrapolate the position of other similar artifacts around the world."

Jose looked at me for a few seconds then breathed out wearily. "It has been decided then," he said in a quiet voice.

"Yeah it has," I replied in an equally hushed voice. "It's just going to have to be the two of us for now ..."

"I hope we don't regret this, compadre," he said. "You know ... leaving her behind ..."

"So do I, mate ... so do I ..."

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# Chapter 11

"Raven-leader, bogey on your six!" Victor's thick accent echoed inside Jennifer's helmet.

"I see it big guy, no worries," she replied calmly as she propulsed her Mecha-Armor in the air and over the small lake, in the middle of what formed Raven Squad's designated training grounds.

The vast green field sprawled over four thousand acres of land, and was populated by all sorts of training gauntlets alongside its artificial hills, tree groves and its variety of differently sized lakes.

"DANGER, HEAT LOCK DETECTED!" the alarm buzzed inside her helmet, accompanied by a series of warning displays that flashed red on the information feed flowing in front of her eyes.

"I know, damn it!" Jennifer cursed through her teeth, annoyed at her computer's flair for dramatics. "Computer, control override initiated, give me full manual!" she shouted at her comm.

The warnings disappeared promptly and everything went quiet inside her suit. There was only her breathing and the sound of the wind shear on the surface of her giant Armor traversing the clouds, the missile behind her still in pursuit.

I just need to dance around it, all I need is a little twirl, she thought as she took a few glimpses of the gray colored heat missile closing the distance on her backside burners on the rear camera feed in her helmet.

She closed her eyes for a second and held her breath.

I can do this, it's now or never, she thought and turned off the propulsion system with a flick of a switch located under her left thumb.

In immediate response, the Mecha-Armor stopped its course in the sky and lunged downwards, towards the ground. Jennifer felt the pressure crush her chest as gravity took over but gritted her teeth and forced her suit to assume a diving position in order to gain velocity.

She checked her rear feed cameras again.

The maneuver seems to be working, she thought as the missile took some time to readjust its trajectory and follow her downwards.

Distance should be enough by now, her mind raced, full of adrenaline.

The ground below had begun to appear larger on her displays, with every second that passed, but Jennifer carried on with her dive. At the last possible moment, she performed a full body twirl turning her whole Armor around to face the incoming heat missile.

She pointed the large hand-cannon with her Armor's right hand, an exaggerated version of the standard weaponry that the rest of Strike Force Fury carried around but increased greatly in size in order to accommodate the suit's physical stature, and pressed the trigger.

Her aim was true; the incendiary rounds firing from her hand-cannon erupted in flames as they came into contact with the front of the missile, further causing it to explode in the air at a safe distance from her.

"Rear afterburners at full power, now!" she shouted and the computer responded within a split of a second, activating the rocket thrusters with a loud roar that were retrofitted in the backside of the Armor, both in her shoulders and her heels.

Jennifer hovered in the air for a few seconds then landed safely with a loud thump on the wet grass of the field next to the lake.

She allowed herself a few seconds to revel in her victory before activating her comms.

"Raven squad, report in!" she commanded with faded breath.

"Raven-leader, we are pinned down and are taking heavy fire from the tank!" Thom's voice came through heavy static.

Jennifer cursed and tried again, "Thom, repeat your status! There seems to be heavy interference!"

"The tank's jamming us," Thom responded, this time a bit clearer.

"What about the drone? Is it still flying around?"

"Negative, Raven-leader. Sarah took it down a few minutes ago before the tank flanked us."

"What is your location?" Jennifer asked anxiously.

"Two clicks on the west-side by the small grove. We are hauled up behind some trees and Victor is projecting his energy shield around the three of us ... we are taking heavy fire and won't last for much longer," Thom responded in between the sounds of heavy explosions.

"I am on my way, be ready to provide cover fire on my mark!" Jennifer said and started running in the direction her squad-mate had given her.

"Copy, Raven-leader, be quick about it! Raven-two out!"

Jennifer raced her Mecha-Armor on full power, not daring to leap or otherwise propulse herself in the air, in fear of the tank becoming aware of her trying to flank it. The tank was remotely controlled by computer over satellite, making it very capable of figuring out tactics against it and, thus, all the more dangerous.

Still, like all machines, it has the same weakness, Jennifer thought, as her suit charged on the terrain, its robotic feet leaving wide prints on the wet grass, its hydraulics and motors rumbling in perfect harmony.

It took her less than three minutes to cover the distance of two and a half miles to where her friends were. She brought her Mecha-Armor to a standstill on the top of the small hill and looked downwards.

Thom wasn't kidding, it looks like they are about to be blown up, she thought as she became witness to the barrage of explosions erupting. Heavy fire was raining hard on Victor's golden energy shield, under which she could distinguish the three figures of her squad-mate's own Mecha-Armors. The tank was unwavering and relentless in its assault.

Okay, let's see if this is going work, Jennifer exhaled and targeted the trees to the left of where her friends were standing. She pressed the trigger of her cannon and fired a small burst. She watched the trajectory of her rounds, flying over and towards the grove before they landed on the grove trees, setting everything on fire on impact.

The tank caught the bait and responded to the new stimuli by diverting half of its firepower towards it. "Guys, cover fire, now!" she shouted at her comm and started running towards the back of the tank.

As she ran, she reached for the giant sword sheathed on her Mecha-Armor's side with her suit's left arm and drew it out. She loved the ambidexterity the suit provided her with, being able to wield both cannon and sword without much trouble or concentration.

As she did so, she witnessed Thom's and Sarah's Armors trying to make for the tank with their own swords drawn while evasive maneuvering around its fire, all the while Victor responding to the tank's fire with some heavy firepower of his own from his Armor's shoulder cannons.

Before the tank had any chance to react to her charge she was almost upon it. She jumped in the air and aimed straight for the armored vehicle's upper structure where she suspected electronics and communications were located.

She landed on top of it, sword first, slicing its upper part in half while her Armor's heels dug into the vehicle's plating, crushing the metal below her. She aimed with her hand-cannon at the tank's exposed insides and took the shot.

It took only a couple of rounds fired at the exposed circuitry and the machine was dead, a lifeless heap of metal and electronics, sliced in half and lying on the ground around her.

Jennifer lifted her sword in a sign of triumph towards the other Mecha-Armors joining in and smiled. Her gamble had paid off like she knew it would.

Jennifer exhaled and threw the dirty oil rag down in frustration. She had spent the past two hours in the Armory oiling and rubbing the Mecha-Armors' cannons and she was in a foul mood.

It was her punishment for not following battle protocol when she had left her squad behind to evade the missile, allowing them to be cornered in by the tank with no acting commander by their side.

"You put your troops' lives in danger, unnecessarily, and acted as a solo gunman in a situation that required teamwork!" Knight-Sergeant Harper had laid into her at debriefing. "Training sessions with the use of live rounds do not give the luxury for fancy robot acrobatics, someone could have gotten killed!" she remembered the Knight-Sergeant shouting at her. "If you can't keep up, you will be struck off as leader of the Ravens Squad and replaced with someone who can actually think!"

Jennifer had endured the older woman's ranting in silence, only because she knew that any protesting on her part would only lead to extra time doing chores on top of the fatigue detail that was, undoubtedly, waiting for her at the end of debriefing.

She had tried to sway the older woman from ordering her to perform maintenance on the cannons and have her assign extra workout time in the gym instead, but Harper had shrugged indifferently, informing her that she was carrying out orders from the old man himself. Sarah had given her a faint smile in support before following the rest of the crew to mess hall for chow time.

"Knight Courtenay, your presence is requested at the helipad at seventeen hundred hours where you will be flown to an undisclosed location in the capital," a voice, coming from one of the speakers on the ceiling, echoed throughout the emptiness of the Armory. "You are advised to look presentable as it is a social call," the voice added before it went out.

Social call? What the hell ... Jennifer scratched the top of her head, realizing too late that her fingers were covered in motor grease.

She looked at her watch and despaired.

That's only thirty minutes away from now, I need to hit the showers! she panicked and darted out of the room.

Jennifer stared at the night sky then at the buildings of the capital below her and felt a sense of yearning. She had spent the past hour on the helicopter, strapped to its back seats, wearing her public uniform and feeling eager to rejoin the others.

The pilot had informed her that they had caught the helicopter flight before her, with Harper herself accompanying them, while she toiled away, scrubbing cannons in the Armory.

Jennifer shuddered, feeling a cold chill up her body creeping in through the aircraft's glass windows, and tucked the bomber jacket the pilot had lent her earlier tighter around her torso. It was a full week, the past one, and things looked like they were going to get busier as days went by.

It was two days ago when their Anointment as Knights had taken place, back in the base, in an extravagant ceremony in front of the main building. The High Priests themselves had flown in, from various parts of the world, to bless Strike Force Fury's weapons and deliver the High Call for battle against the emergent Lucidi, the Knighthood's mortal enemies, who were threatening the balance of things once more.

Jennifer and her squad had spent the whole time, during the ceremony, inside their Mecha-Armors, standing on display in front of the rest of the troops of the battalion. She recalled how bored she was during the whole process with the High Priests ranting for hours about the Order's divine purpose and glorious history among other things.

She also recalled how happy she was that she had let one of the mechanics, who had taken a fancy to her, install a rogue application in her Armor's mainframe the previous day, so she could watch satellite television incognito inside the luxury of her own suit.

Regardless, she took pleasure in the fact that she had finally made Knight, and a Squad-leader no less, in one of the Order's most prestigious units, against all of her teachers' and trainers' predictions. No one in the world could take that away from her.

She saw the pilot wave at her and promptly put her comm headphones on.

"Five minutes to landing, my Lady," she heard the pilot say.

"Thank you, Ensign," she replied and took the headphones back off. She stared through the window at the River Thames as the helicopter began its descent over the central part of the capital and thought of how beautiful it looked, lit with all the different lights from the city's buildings and the cars, below her. A world so massive, so beautiful, and yet so strange and distant to her.

She felt yearning cross her heart again as she made out the silhouettes of people walking past, some of them clearly being couples or families. She wanted that for herself, a sense of belonging, next to loved ones, so that she could try and fill the void inside her soul. A sense of belonging that she knew she could never find inside the frigid military structure of the Order.

She caught the reflection of her green eyes in the glass window and blinked.

Oh well, she thought regaining her usual demeanor, wouldn't mind a drink or two, or even six for that matter, to celebrate ... I wonder what Sarah and the boys were up to all this time ...

"Jennifer, there you are!" she heard her friend scream as she entered the luxurious penthouse on the top of one of the most prestigious hotels in the capital. The helicopter had landed on its roof a few minutes ago and she was guided down there by one of the hotel's staff who was waiting for her.

"Can you believe all this?" the brunette carried on with her girly screams as she hugged Jennifer excitedly. "We are going to a ball! I can't wait to show you the dress I picked out for you!"

"Dress? Ball?" Jennifer said as she looked at her friend and tried to take the rest of the gigantic interior of the penthouse in at the same time.

The spacious room was decorated in a modern, yet subtle, manner and overlooked the river with its massive glass paneled windows. Jennifer could make out the boys, sitting in the lounge and laughing to themselves, holding a bottle of beer each.

Harper was standing on the other side of the room, by the bar, dressed in a conservative dark green dress with matching heels and talking to a group of Raven personnel she recognized from the base. All the men, including her friends, were dressed in black and white tuxedos with bow ties whereas the women wore similar dresses and heels with modest tones.

The exception was, of course, her friend Sarah who was all giggly and jittery in her tight yellow dress with black stiletto heels that was tight and short enough to showcase her petite slender figure and her thin toned legs.

"Goodness, look at you!" Jennifer exclaimed as her friend posed happily for her. "Where did you get all this stuff?"

"Harper took us shopping," Sarah giggled. "She wanted to make sure we all looked the part, as she said, since the ball will be full of high class guests!"

"Right ..." Jennifer replied, nodding to Thom and Victor who had raised the bottles in salutation. Harper didn't seem to notice her or was pretending that she didn't, Jennifer couldn't tell. The Knight-Sergeant seemed lost in her conversation and had not thrown a single glance towards her direction

"Sarah, I don't want to sound boring, but I really hope the dress you got me isn't anywhere near as flamboyant or revealing as yours, or I am sticking with my uniform ..."

"Don't worry silly!" Sarah erupted in laughter and grabbed her arm, pulling her inside one of the bedrooms. "Time to get you ready for the ball, princess Red!"

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# Chapter 12

The massive ballroom, located a couple of floors below their penthouse, was one of the most impressive sights Jennifer had ever witnessed. Everything about it screamed luxury, from the gleaming marble floors to the silken banners hanging on its polished wooden walls and from the grandiose banquets to the crystal chandeliers hanging from its ceiling.

Jennifer tried her best to walk as normally as possible in her tall stilettos but couldn't help but feel awkward in them and in her dress, which, although nowhere near as short as Sarah's, was still the most revealing piece of clothing she had ever adorned. The dress was an open back evening gown made out of thin black velvet, which accentuated greatly Jennifer's athletic physique, and with sheer side panels that lent a deep cut illusion. The look was completed with a sterling silver bib chain necklace and a pair of white-gold cable bracelets around her wrists. Her hair was tied in the usual knot, despite Sarah's protests, revealing a set of silver lollipop mini stud earrings.

Harper led them through the crowds, consisting of men and women of various ages, all dressed in expensive looking tuxedos, flashy dresses and over the top jewelry, towards the top side where a large table that was slightly elevated from the rest waited for them.

Jennifer and Sarah followed their drill sergeant, causing quite a few heads to turn in admiration as they passed, with the boys walking behind them. Their banquet table was a large impressive piece made out of polished rosewood and covered in white silken linen.

There were six large golden candlesticks on top of it, candles lit, in between the expensive china plates and silver cutlery, laid out next to them. Jennifer and her friends could only stare in wonder, as they assumed their seats, at the extravagant display of wealth and luxury that was presented in front of them, being privy to such an exorbitant sight for the first time in their lives.

"Can you believe how many celebrities and actors are in here?" Sarah, sitting next to her at the table nudged her with her elbow and pointed at the mass of people occupying the dance floor, waltzing in pairs to the music of the orchestra playing. Jennifer could make out the faces of a few international movie stars, politicians and athletes in the crowd.

"Who are these people," she asked Harper, who was sitting opposite her, next to the boys. "What are we all doing here?"

Harper took a sip from the glass of champagne they had all been served moments ago, along with some strange looking hors d'oeuvres, and smiled at her.

"They are people who are invested in Sir Robert Anderson's cause, we all come together in celebration, on specific occasions, to break bread and share with each other," she said quizzically.

"You mean, they are all part of the Order?" Jennifer pressed her, her curiosity sparked.

"Not exactly ... it's not my place to provide you with this piece of information, but let's just say they all work for the old man, in one way or another ..." Harper said, making it obvious that her reply also marked the definite end of that particular conversation.

The time passed with everyone enjoying each other's company and getting a bit tipsy in the process. Jennifer was more interested in the food, in the main courses that followed the hors d'oeuvres. She dug hungrily into the plate of steak and chips that was served, on her request, which made Sarah roll her eyes over at her on numerous occasions, appalled at her apparent lack of ballroom etiquette.

The boys kept mostly to themselves, drinking heavily and laughing loudly, while Harper spent the whole time talking on her phone and typing things on the bulky tablet that she had carried with her.

During that time, Jennifer was asked to join a couple of handsome young men in a dance and twice she turned them down, asking Sarah to fill in for her instead, who accepted both times in delight. Dancing in those stilettos, when she could barely walk in them, seemed like an unpleasant trial plus she wasn't particularly fond of the way those specific young men were leering at her.

As more time passed, Jennifer noticed that the table, they were seated at, had an extra three chairs empty and marked as reserved and wondered as to who their occupants might be and when they were going to show up. She didn't have to wait long because after an hour or so had passed since they'd first arrived, the orchestra stopped playing and the crowds turned their attention to the entrance doors.

Jennifer left her second steak alone for a moment and got up from her chair to try and make out who was the recipient of all the attention. Her curiosity was soon met with the sight of Sir Robert Anderson, accompanied by Major Wold at his side, making their grand entrance amid a round of applause.

The old man waved at the crowd, smiling beneath his thick white mustache, and shook a few hands with the people present before making his way to where they were seated and occupying the head seat of the table with Wold to his left. The music resumed and everyone returned to their dancing and drinking, albeit a bit less noisy than before.

"How are you all, children, this fine evening?" the old man asked them, after being served his own glass of champagne.

"We are all fine, sir, thank you," Jennifer took the initiative to reply as the ranking Knight in her squad and tried to put on her most pleasant smile. "We are, really, grateful for this wonderful party," she carried on.

"Nonsense, my dear," Anderson replied. "You deserve this and more, you have all worked so hard during your training and I'll be damned if I don't spoil my Ravens as much as I can before sending them out to battle."

"Yes, sir."

Anderson took another sip from his drink. "Now, you all must be wondering about the underlying reason for me bringing you out here at such short notice, other than making sure you have the occasional good time that is ..." Anderson continued.

Everyone in her crew nodded, more out of politeness rather than real interest.

"Does it have to do with the empty seat to your right?" Jennifer asked quietly, surprised with herself for being so bold as to speak out of turn.

Anderson did not seem to mind her brashness, quite the opposite, since he rewarded her with hearty laughter that made everyone else at the table squirm with uneasiness.

"I see that my judgment of you, my dear child, has not been misplaced ..." he finally said. "Yes, indeed, you are correct in your assessment. We are waiting for someone, more specifically we are waiting for the fifth member of your squad ..."

Jennifer heard Sarah gasp, echoing her own feelings, but continued to lock gazes with the old man. He was smirking behind his mustache with the look on his face that reminded her of a shark bumping paths with a pack of seals.

"Excuse me, sir, but shouldn't he be training with us, getting accustomed to his Mecha-Armor and learning how to work with the rest of the team?" it was Thom's turn to pose a question to the old man.

"He's not going to be wearing a suit my boy," Anderson replied. "In fact, he's not going to be joining you in the field, but rather he's going to be working alongside you, providing reconnaissance, infiltration and sabotage in places you can't reach. A sort of a ghost watching over you, if you like."

"So when are we going to be meeting this ghost of yours, sir?" Jennifer asked, growing impatient.

"Well, that's a very good question, my dear," Anderson continued to smile at her. "I am afraid that's entirely up to him. But if I've learned anything about him, the past few months we've been together, is that he's been here with us all along, watching us and playing his little favorite game of hide and seek, haven't you, Mr. Miliotis?"

Jennifer and her friends jumped from their seats as the young, long faced and dark haired, man with the smooth olive skin suddenly materialized in front of their eyes in the seat next to the old man. Knight-Sergeant Harper and Major Wold seemed unphased by his appearance, whereas Sir Robert Anderson all but revealed some form of hidden delight in the reaction of his four young proteges.

After the first couple of seconds had passed and the realization of who was sitting next to them had hit her in full, Jennifer reacted on pure instinct alone. She grabbed the sharp cutting knife, lying next to her half eaten steak, and flung it in the young man's direction before anyone at the table had the chance to react or to stop her.

The knife hit the back of his chair and fell to the floor with a blunt noise as the young man de-materialized as quickly as he had appeared earlier, long before the knife had even threatened to make contact with his chest.

Jennifer gasped as she felt a hand grab the back of her neck. She saw reality dematerialize around her and be replaced by a nexus of white and blue lightning sparks forming alien geometrical shapes and jittering about at incredible speeds.

She tried to scream, as she realized that she too was made out of these bouncing and glowing molecules, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She then exited the strange white and blue world as abruptly as she had entered it. She started shivering, as she felt incredibly cold.

What is going on, what is happening to me, she thought in panic. Her eyes widened in terror as she realized she had somehow been transported amid the clouds above the city and was rapidly falling to her death towards the river below.

She saw the city lights grow larger as she gained velocity and screamed at top of her lungs.

I don't want to die like this, was the last thing that crossed her mind before she was swung violently, by an invisible arm, back to the nexus.

She must have spent but a few seconds as a ghost inside the nexus, which felt like an agonizing eternity, before she witnessed her body rematerialize in flesh and blood, clad in the same black dress, back to her chair at the table.

She breathed in, grateful to be able to feel her lungs fill with air again and held back the need to retch as her stomach churned. The young man with the olive skin was sitting in his chair on the opposite side of the table and on the old man's right side. His eyes were piercing blue, flickering with what looked like a white and blue glow.

Jennifer shivered and met his cold stare as bravely as she could but she knew deep down how outmatched she was in that duel of wills.

"If you ever try anything like this again," the young man said in a calm but threatening tone, "I will make sure I'll transport you back without your head on your shoulders."

"Children, children, please behave" Jennifer heard the old man intervene as the boys were getting ready to lunge at the young man. "We are all friends here," the old man continued, while everyone resumed their seats. "Telemachus here has pledged to put his extraordinarily unique powers to our cause, haven't you, Mr. Miliotis?"

The young man didn't say anything but nodded instead, the light blue flicker disappearing gradually from his eyes, revealing a deep brown.

"I am sorry, sir," Sarah spoke, looking downwards, "but are you seriously saying that the fifth member of our squad will be a Lucidi? The mortal enemies of the Order? The ones we've been recruited to fight?"

The old man stared at the black-haired girl for a moment then erupted in laughter again. "Oh, my dear, it's a bit late to act as the noble and pure Inquisitor, don't you think?"

Sarah said nothing but kept looking downwards instead.

"Can any of you here, my young Ravens, recite the Oath or even the Prayer from heart?" he asked the four Ravens. "I didn't think so," he continued after no one said anything. "You haven't been chosen by chance. You were all destined to fail your training, back in your academy, due to your insubordinate and rebellious personalities, qualities that I looked for extensively."

"But, sir," Sarah began, the old man cutting her off with a wave of his hand.

"The Clergy is nothing more than a ridiculous conclave of stupid old men who think they can rule the world with their outdated prayer books and their petty stratagems," Anderson said in anger slamming his fist on the table.

"Everyone in this ballroom," he stopped for a second to point at the crowd that was being particularly quiet before carrying on, "everyone in here, believes that a new vision is needed within the Order's ranks, one that will unite old foes and access forbidden powers, so that the legacy of our efforts can unite the whole of the world in harmony and everlasting peace."

His voice softened a bit as he looked at each one of the Ravens in succession. "I need you in this quest, my Ravens, as much as I need this young Lucidi here," he said. "Will you join me in my quest to bring forth change and unity to the Order and to the world?"

All of them looked downwards, unable to meet his gaze or answer his question.

Is this a test? Jennifer's mind scrambled to make sense of the situation. Is our loyalty being tested?

"I see you are all unsure of yourselves," the old man said after a while. "I wouldn't trust you if you weren't." He held his palm upwards towards them and said in a gentle and inviting voice, "I can offer you wealth and security but also much more ..."

Jennifer saw her friends lift their gaze to stare at the old man inquisitively.

"I can offer you your past," the old man said after gaining their attention.

"What? What did you say?" Jennifer blurted out, her heart racing.

"You may all think you are orphans and the truth is that many of the Clergy's and the Inquisition's recruits often are," his eyes gleamed, reflecting the light from the chandeliers. "But you four are special ..." he trailed off dramatically. "You were all taken from your families when you were mere children, stolen by the priests of the Clergy around the world to make sure that the Order never ran out of fresh bodies to grind," he continued. "I can help you find your families and reclaim your past if you swear your allegiance to me and my cause!"

Excited looks, with newfound purpose darted between the four of them as they nodded to each other in understanding. Finally, it was Jennifer who spoke out loudly for all them.

"I think I speak for all of us here, sir, when I say that we'd be more than happy to obey your every command, especially if it means us being able to reunite with our families," she said after clearing her throat. She felt such excitement she could jump, her earlier fight with the young man all but forgotten in light of being able to reunite again with the woman with the red hair from her dreams.

"I am delighted to hear this, my dear," the old man looked pleased with himself. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to ... agent Ravenhawk, if you please?"

"Right away boss," Wold, who hadn't uttered a single word the whole time he was there, replied and darted off into the crowd. Sir Robert Anderson got up from his chair and walked to the center of the dance floor followed by the young Lucidi. The crowd parted around them as the orchestra stopped playing.

Jennifer and the rest got up from the chairs and walked to the dance floor in order to get a better view of what was unfolding in front of them.

"Oh my god, please, no," the muffled voice of a middle-aged man in his tuxedo was heard over the silence as Major Wold pushed him, his hands tied behind his back, forward before making him kneel in front of the old man. Anderson looked at the sobbing man with the same sympathy that one regards a cockroach before squashing it with their foot.

"Michael ... Michael," the old man eventually said. "What am I going to do with you? Eh?" he asked.

The man said nothing but continued to sob, his eyes glued to the floor.

"You thought that you could feed information to the Bureau behind my back? You thought that I wouldn't find out?" the old man spat. "I am willing to wager that you are even too stupid to realize all the misdirection you have caused to those simpletons in the Bureau through carefully selected lies from my part of course."

The man on his knees stopped his sobbing and blinked at the old man before getting backhanded on his face to which he responded with a startled cry.

The old man turned his attention to the crowd. "Let this be a reminder of what happens to those who decide to betray the trust that was bestowed upon them!" he shouted, then turned to nod at the young Lucidi. The young man looked hesitant, uncertain of what to do next.

"Remember what is at stake and do what is asked of you!" the old man hissed at him.

The young man looked at Anderson for a second then nodded back. He reached with his arm and touched the shoulder of the kneeled man who had now started to sob uncontrollably.

Within a blink of an eye, the sobbing man dematerialized into thin air, only to be replaced by an amorphous blob of bloody flesh that occupied the space where he had been kneeling.

The crowd gasped and few screams were heard over the commotion as the realization of the middle-aged man's fate became apparent.

"Clean up this mess!" Anderson barked to some waiters. "And you!" he pointed another finger in the crowd. "Get back to your entertainment! This is a party for god's sake!"

With that note, the old man stormed off followed by Major Wold and the Lucidi.

A semblance of normality resumed as music started playing again and everyone pretended to get back to whatever they were doing before the execution.

Jennifer stood there in silence, staring at the bloody mess of what once constituted a human being and felt a knot forming in her throat.

"Do you think that we ever, really, had the chance to refuse the old man's offer?" she heard Sarah whisper next to her.

Jennifer said nothing but just continued to stare ahead instead.

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# Chapter 13

"So how did you end up stuck here, in Brazil, with the rest of us, mano?" I heard my friend ask the larger man acting as our chaperon.

Dancing Wind took a sip from his beer and replied, "I used to work as a bouncer back in my family's bar in Seattle. One day, I got a call at work to visit my grandfather who was on his death bed inside his cabin up in the mountains."

Jose and I nodded encouraging him to continue with his story. We were all hanging out in one of the many beach bars by the sea in Copacabana in Rio. Our plan to get him drunk didn't seem to be working as the larger man looked very capable of out-drinking us both well before we'd even remotely manage to get him close to being drunk.

"I took a couple of days off from work and took my motorbike up to the mountain to see him," the American Native continued. "I was puzzled at first when he requested to see me alone in his bedroom but I soon found out why ..." he said and took another sip from his bottle.

"My grandfather came from a long line of shamans in the Suquamish tribe. He always said how disappointed he was that I'd never wanted to carry the burden ... Anyways, he told me of a secret place only known to him and the shamans of the tribe, deep in the Cascade Mountains ... an underground cave where the totem of lightning was held ... a totem of old, from times long before the palefaces came to the land ..."

I watched intently at the larger man frowning, as he unfolded his story, curiosity getting the better of me. Jose, next to me, put his drink down and stared at Dancing Wind in the same manner.

"My grandfather made me promise him that I'd go and see it with my own eyes, pass the secret of the totem down to my own children," he continued. "A day later, he passed away."

"I made the trip to the mountains on my motorbike, it took me nearly two days of traveling and exploring the forest to find the entrance to the cave. Like my grandfather had said, the totem was there, waiting for me ..."

"Did it whisper to you, too?" Jose interrupted Dancing Wind, his breath faded.

He looked at us both sternly for a second then continued in a hushed tone, "I remember the first time I laid my eyes on the totem. I swear I could see blue sparks flying around it as I heard it call my name ... a voice of temptation inside my head ..."

"What happened?" it was my turn to ask.

"I remember grabbing the totem in my hands ... despite my grandfather warning me to stay away ... I thought I could sell it, make some money out of my wasted time up in the mountains ..."

"It didn't turn out this way, though, did it?"

"No ... no, it didn't," Dancing Wind replied. "I woke up a day later in the cave with no sign of the totem. I rode my bike back home to Seattle feeling different somehow ..."

"When did you discover that you could manipulate the winds, like you do?" I egged him on.

"I didn't ... at least at first. It wasn't until the man with the goatee and the British accent paid me a visit a week later that I realized I could do things like no other man could ... miracles that even the shamans in the history of our tribe would only dream of doing ..."

"And now you are here, baby sitting us both, mano," Jose spat sarcastically.

Dancing Wind ignored his comment and carried on with his drink. "It's not that bad," he replied casually. "I could be back in Seattle, hauling drunkards out of my uncle's bar instead."

"Mate," I started saying to the larger man, trying to sound as desperate as possible, "we need to leave, we have pressing matters to take care of back home."

Dancing Wind threw me a look of mild annoyance and shrugged, "You know how things work, Mark Prior, you need to take it up with Richard as I can't help you with your problem."

"That's not fair, mano," Jose retorted.

"I know, friend. But life's not fair, is it?" the large man smiled apologetically to us. He finished his beer then got up to head to the restrooms.

I started taping my fingers on the table, a habit that I had picked up recently when I was lost in thought, and tried to figure out a new strategy for escaping our guardian.

"That's it, compadre," Jose interrupted my thinking. "This is our cue, we are getting the hell out of here!"

"But ... we haven't even come up with a plan ..."

"Yes, we have," he got up from his char and signaled a group of athletic-looking guys at a table nearby. They all came to our table, all four of them, and stared at my friend with a confused look on their faces.

"Jose, I am not sure this is a good idea," I started saying but it was too late.

"I want you four to go wait by the restrooms and attack the large guy who was sitting at our table, do you know the one I mean?" Jose asked them.

They all nodded in understanding but said little else.

"I want you to stall him as much as possible, beat him up if you have to, but try not to make any serious or permanent damage to him," Jose continued with his instructions. "Do you understand what I am asking you to do?" he asked them finally.

"Sim, senhor," the tallest of the group replied and started making his way towards the restrooms. The rest just followed him silently.

Jose grabbed me by the arm and started pulling me towards the road, "Come one!" he urged me. "We don't have much time!"

I stumbled behind him.

"Jose, can we just stop running for a second and try to think things through again?" I shouted at my friend while trying to catch my breath. We had been running for the past fifteen minutes in a mad dash trying to put as much distance as possible between us and the beach bar.

Our trek had taken us all the way to the inner parts of the favela on the hillside by the beach. People and vehicles rushed past us in a colorful tirade that was making me lose all sense of direction and I was already feeling tired from our running spree.

"Compadre, in here!" I heard my friend shout at me, before he broke a hard left into a shady looking alley. I followed him in there and tried to catch my breath. He was also doing the same while rolling a cigarette at the same time.

"Why are we in here?" I asked him finally.

"Let's stay hidden for a bit then grab a taxi to the airport," he replied and lit his cigarette.

I looked around us. The dirty alley seemed as if it stood in between two streets in the neighborhood. A back entrance to what must have been a traditional restaurant stood a few feet beside us next to some rusty-looking metal containers overflowing with rubbish. A group of cats were pacing up and down, next to the metal containers, trying to figure out a way in. Other than that, there was no one else with us in the alley, much to my relief, no staring faces by the windows above us or curious looking bystanders in the streets in front of us and behind us.

I let out a sigh of relief and waited, content to let my friend smoke his cigarette while I tried to think things through.

I need to see Nadia, I thought. I wonder if she's really mad at me, what am I going to say to her ... share the truth or try to come up with some excuse as to why I'd disappeared for the past months ... I tried to formulate a plan in my head. We had already decided that we were going to visit my mad Spaniard's family first in Valencia where he had to take care of some pressing business before deciding on our next course of action.

I was determined to visit Berlin as our second stop and try to salvage things with the person I considered still my girlfriend. If there was still any chance to work things through I'd try anything to make her understand and not let my recent life's craziness get in the way of me being close to the person I loved.

"Compadre, it's time," Jose put his hand on my shoulder and gave me the signal. It must have been five or ten minutes since we first entered the alley and he was looking anxious to get going again.

"I think we might have lost the hijo-de-puta," my friend said as we started to make our way forward. "There's no way he could have followed us all the way here."

Jose couldn't have finished his sentence before I felt a gust of wind grab us both and lift us from the ground.

Oh bollocks, I thought, before we both got violently slammed to the ground with such force that we nearly fell unconscious.

We picked ourselves up and turned around to see the figure of Dancing Wind towering behind us. He had a black eye and a few bruises on his face and he was glaring at us with a menacing look in his eyes.

"Mate, wait a second," I tried to speak but he was having none of it. He clapped his hands together again creating another gust of wind that slammed us both against the wall.

"Richard warned me about you two," the larger man spat at us. "Of course, I never thought that you'd have the nerve to use your powers on me to try to escape but I won't be making the same mistake twice."

He clapped his hands again and we got slammed to the floor head first. I felt the wind on my back pushing me downwards with great force pushing the air out of my lungs.

"How did you find us," I managed to croak in between breathing heavily. The gust of wind on our backs was still present, pushing our chests to the floor but with a bit less force than before.

"I have to thank your friend here and his nasty habit," Dancing Wind laughed. "You see, what you idiots don't know is that my power set gives me an incredible sense for tracking by picking scents out in the wind," he continued. He turned around to speak to Jose, lying a few feet away from me. "You shouldn't have lit that last cigarette back there man," he said.

"Mate, please, let's talk about this for a second," I pleaded with him.

"No more talking," he snarled. "I am taking you both back to the base, Richard can deal with you."

"No, we are not going anywhere," Jose shouted, while trying to get back to his feet.

Dancing Wind attempted to clap his hands together again but froze in place for a second, a bewildered look on his face. He then proceeded to buckle in pain letting out a horrifying scream that made my teeth rattle.

I jumped up to my feet, the pressure of the wind that had been holding me down gone, and went over to him. The larger man was now lying on the floor himself, writhing in intense agony, as blood started to pour out from his nose and ears all the while his screams were starting to catch the attention of people passing-by.

"What's happening to him?" I shouted at my friend trying to make my voice heard over the Native American's screams.

Jose was dusting his clothes off from the dirt and muttering curses in Spanish.

"Jose, what do you think you are doing?" I shouted again.

He looked up at me and replied with a vicious look on his face, "I activated his pain centers in full. He might be immune to my suggestions but I can still activate his pain receptors."

"Stop it!" I said while grabbing him by the shoulders. "It looks like you're killing him!"

Jose pushed me backwards. "I have already!" he shouted back. "I only activated his pain receptors for a couple of seconds, he's just getting the residual damage from it!" he shouted back.

I turned my attention back to the large man on the floor. He was screaming no longer but had instead started to shake uncontrollably.

"He's going to be okay, come on let's get out of here!" Jose shouted and started sprinting towards the street. He ran to the exit of the alley then turned around to shout at me, "Compadre! Are you coming or what?"

"Oh, bloody hell, the whole thing has turned into such a mess," I muttered under my breath and ran after him.

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# Chapter 14

Alice sat in her chair quietly, in one of the base's labs, and waited for Richard and the Doctor to return. She was connected to a weird looking diagnostic device via a series of thick cables that were tied to her wrists. On the other side of the bench the Stormcall artifact laid, connected to the same device, while it glowed with its white hypnotic pattern.

Alice let out a sigh and tried to focus her attention on her surroundings. She was feeling really tired, after bringing forth her lightning shield numerous times in the past days, trying to match with its intensiveness the electromagnetic waves emanated by the artifact.

She had used the same trick, in the past, when she had deactivated the force field protecting the Stormcall, back in Glastonbury, but this time around the continuous effort was starting to take its toll.

It's all for a good purpose, I guess, she thought as she fought back the waves of drowsiness that followed the extensive use of her powers.

Dr. Hoch had devised a method to try and extrapolate the location of other existing Stormcalls around the planet, by using the Stormcall in conjunction with her shield of blue lightning as a substitute, in order to try and match their combined electromagnetic signatures with other similar ones around the world. The whole process was made possible through the use of a number of hacked satellites the Organization had access to.

The last trial must have been a success, Alice thought as she remembered how excited the Doctor had gotten with the readings. A potential ping was found somewhere in southwestern Africa, as the Doctor had exclaimed loudly before running out of the lab to get Richard and the rest of the leadership.

I'd love to visit Africa, Alice thought absently while scratching an itch under her right palm. I wonder if Richard will have me go there if there's indeed another Stormcall artifact hidden around.

Her daydreaming got suddenly interrupted by the doors slamming open and a furious Richard Feist entering the room.

"What happened," Alice asked the fuming man with the goatee.

"It's your bloody friends, again!" he replied impatiently. "I just got a call from Rio. They managed to escape, nearly killing Dancing Wind in the process!"

"Oh my god!" Alice covered her mouth with her hands.

"It's not just that," Richard continued. "If they get captured, the information about our whereabouts would be detrimental to everyone's safety! There's too much at stake!"

"We need to go get them," Alice jumped out of her chair, untying the wrist bands to which the cables were connected in the process. "We need to find them first before the Clergy does!"

"My thoughts exactly, love," Richard agreed. "That's why I came to you first."

"I think I know where they are going ..." Alice said, her face frowning.

TO BE CONTINUED

# About the Author

T.A. Marks is the adopted pen name of a couple in their mid thirties (Theo P. and Abs W.), with a love for traveling, science fiction and the literal arts.

The E.M.F. Chronicles consist of their latest attempt to build an epic fictional world, filled with adventure, drama, and extraordinary events.

They hope you enjoy reading their stories, as much as they do writing them.

Read more at T.A. Marks's site.
