The War Chronicles of a Little Demon (Youjo Senki alt)

From ScittyKitty we've got some sketches of Tauria doing part of her getting dressed in her Polyxo Advanced Multi Role suit.

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And here's her working with the head of her Ritualista maintenance crew, Optio Suzette Gibbs.​

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And as a bit of a bonus this link goes to a pic by SaturnXart of Duchess SivlerFlight. And as a duchess complete with vast tracts of land.


There's a few more pieces together

 

Okay, I was going to put up a map of the 9 Diyu Great Houses.

But it's the new year and you guys have been great and Map is already posted elsewhere.

So here's a preview of some new art.





A few things

1) it's a draft and not colored or shaded.
2) it's cropped as the piece, when done will have all 7 main Ritual Plate variants.
3) that's a Polyxo Advanced Multi-Role Tanya is wearing.

Which means this is set in her future when she's older, has a more advanced RP, and is in command of her own unit.
So minor spoiler.

 

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One note is that this is set in the future after Tauria/Tanya has gotten a Polyxo model and is in command of well... spoilers.
To her annoyance, even as a teenager she's short.

I really like the arts and it's fun how each has its own color theme. And it's nice to have a setup for each type of RP (well at least of BlackSky major models)

But I've got this info dump just laying around so let's put that in with some links to other peices of specific model.

Common types of Ritual Plate:

Harmonia: Air superiority and interceptor suit. Agile and high speed. Often used for defending fleet assets against air strikes or for attacking enemy fighter assets. They can also run escort for Torpedo Boats and other air assets. Some of highest thrust to weight ratios requiring strongest Zephyr, and Pilots capable of managing such spirits and extreme maneuverability.

Telephe: Strike unit and Fighter-Bomber. Suit is a bit more solidly built has strong Lace battery projectors in gauntlets and capacity for arcane energy storage in armored flasks around waist. Powerful ranged offensive unit, each suit has a couple shots that can take out large vessels or targets. Lances can work in a high explosive or armor piercing role depending on the nature of the target. Air to air capability, but not as much as a Harmonia. Also requires Pilots with the skills in Evocation to manage the extreme power of Lance strikes.

Sarpedona: Ground Support unit. Has strongest warding and armor. Focuses on air to ground weaponry, both for anti-personnel and anti vehicle. They also run escort for landing zones and VTOLs. Can also function in an air defense role as well as a ground attack. Capable of more maneuverability at lower speeds. Ideally requires Pilots who can interface with ground troops to provide direct support and manage relatively close combat with manifold weapons and targets. Very intense operational tempo. Suits can be customized for types of arcane load-outs and if they are primarily in an anti-infantry, anti-armor, or anti-arcane role.

Polydora: All around unit. Has more modularity than other suits and is built to work in any of the preceding roles, but not as efficiently as a dedicated suit. Squadrons of these are often used by smaller carriers, either as a full compliment or part, to add tactical flexibility depending on mission requirements. There is also the requirement of a Pilot being able to work in a multitude of roles.

Less-common types of Ritual Plate:

Occultia: Low observable, theater-grade surveillance and recon suit. Less offensive power but more scrying, stealth and veiling. Pilots typically use special Zephyr of a more inquisitive bent to help with the data collation and collection. With minor reconfigurations: stealth versus scrying suits can be used for intelligence collection on over flights of enemy airspace or near real-time target data over a wide frontage.
Requires specialized pilots given the mental requirements to run the veils and the Euryale Scrying system and able to process a mass amount of data. This is one of the rarer suits. To where a RP Wing may have one Surveillance Squadron with one Flight's worth of Occultia Pilots.

Polyxo: An Advanced multi-role Suit. It has more capability and modularity, but at a higher unit cost and greater maintenance complexity. They also require greater Pilot skill and power to use effectively. However, for a select high-skill Squadrons they are useful. These are typically assigned as a flexible multi-role squadron for an advanced, but small, strike Carrier. Or as a higher-tier reserve reinforcement multi-role squadron for a full Ritual Plate Wing.

Svalinna : A heavy defensive warding suit thick with extra enchantments and replaceable sections. Operating similar to the Ogun or Indra Aerial Torpedo the Svalinna projects a powerful and large ward. All Ritual Plate Pilots are required to be able to power a defensive ward, however, Svalinna Pilots have to be able to project them much further out. This can work for persistent patrol, reusable, and lightweight fleet screen, or even ground protection. Given the limited time the Pilot can keep such a war shield active.
However, miniaturizing the wards enchantments to something that can fit on a Ritual Plate suit makes this an exceptionally expensive, and relatively bulky suit that has 3 times the fuel cell requirements. Several ward projector components also burn out and need replacement after multiple uses in one mission. Further the Pilot must be especially skilled in wards to operate the suit itself. An RP Wing often has a Ward Squadron with at 1 to 2 flight's worth of Svalinna Pilots with the other RP pilots Harmonia acting in an escort capacity.


Specializations:

A flight 4 RP units will typically have some modular specialization. Typically the Flight Leader will normally have a suit with some extra maneuverability and weaponry to counter enemy air assets.

1 Member of the Flight will have a Gorgon Rig, a crying system (a smaller, less intense, and shorter ranged sibling to the Euryale) to provide extra targeting info, battle-space awareness, and backup comms. This is less difficult to use than a Euryale but does get the most benefit from a Pilot who is skilled in such things.

The two remaining members of the Flight will have extra offensive systems. For a Telephe Flight this means extra evocation capacitors for more Lance strikers. For a Sarpedona this is further capacity for various flame, lightning, and other attacks on ground targets.

The layout of a flight can be modified if required. A more tactical surveillance or patrol oriented Flight may have 2 Gorgon-equipped pilots and 2 with the Flight Leader package. This means that each Flight can be broken up into 2 Pairs where 1 operates the Gorgon Scrying rig and is protected by her wing-woman.

Also with the tradition of a Legionary or Fleet Soldier purchasing their own equipment, there are some who either by Patronage or wealth will supply their own Ritual Plate suit that is at a grade above that of standard Fleet or Legion service.

 

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Here's the map of the Houses around House BlackSky. True to its name Eastern Province, and Bovitar is on the far eastern side of House BlackSky.
And the Houses have a rather low population density, at least by human standards. A lot of htat is due to terrain and the logistics of having enough grazing land for livestock to feed millions of demons.



And the.... complicated relationships between the Great Houses.



One bit to keep in mind is that this is the... mostly current standard of things, and that the current wars are mostly "brushfire" situations or pauses in major hostilities.

 

From the great ScittyKitty have have some art!


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Poor Tauria realizing that being a duchess's daughter requires some formal functions where she can't get away with wearing her uniform.

Heavy is the Preserver Crown on our little Countess.


PS: Ch8 is going very well. I'm starting the final combat scene. And while I could put up a 8,500 word chapter that ends on a cliffhanger. I think folks might want to wait a bit more to have a fuller arc for the chapter. Or maybe I could have what I have now as ch8.

Plusan ending scene with a familiar POV shift.

 

The War Chronicles of a Little Demon

Set in the Return Verse
A Saga of Tanya the Evil fic thingy.
By Sunshine Temple

Naturally, I do not own Youjo Senki. So here's the disclaimer:

Saga of Tanya the Evil its characters and settings belong Carlo Zen, Shinobu Shinotsuki, and NUT Co., Ltd.

Previous chapters and other works can be found at my fanfiction website.
http://www.fukufics.com/fic/


Other website Temple of Ranma's Senshi Seifuku
http://fukufics.com

C&C as always is wanted.

Future Snippet 1: Airborne Diplomacy by other Means.


Something "Many" Chapters in the Future.

As soon as the beacon was lit, Task Force Nibelung teleported. Accuracy was good and luck was with us as we formed up to the west of the city, which put us over land. If we appeared to the east we would have been over water.

And the enemy held that, for now.

Task Force Nibelung was centered around the Heavy Carrier HFV Valhalla, the Battlecruiser HFV DarkStar, and various cruisers, destroyers, light carriers, corvettes, patrol boats, scouts, and elements of fleet train and supply.

My Demi-Wing of four RP Squadrons only took up an eighth of the Valhalla's capacity of nearly four hundred Ritual Plate Pilots. And the DarkStar carried over a hundred and thirty Fujiwara torpedoes plus an entire Hasta torpedo bomber squadron.

And we were just the escorting force. The real force that came in over the darkened human city was the Emurian Sixth Landing Fleet. This was Dame BlackStone’s domain, the youngest daughter of the youngest Daughter of Imperatrix BlackSky. And everything magical and electric had been wiped out in a preemptive attack. Which caused untold deaths in a major metropolitan areas.

The Sixth consisted of 4 Infantry Legion Landing Flotillas, 2 Armor Legion Landing Flotillas, 6 Landing Defense Flotillas, 4 Recon Patrol Singularium, and a Bombardment Flotilla.

It was a force with one purpose: delivering and supporting Corpus Incursio Reliance to the battlefield. Each Legion Landing Flotilla could deliver an entire Legion of 10 Cohorts their armor, vehicles, artillery, Ritual Plate, and a full resupply. The Defense Flotillas were there to protect the giant troop transports, dropship tenders, and other landing airships while Bombardment Flotilla consisted of a pair of cruisers and a heavy torpedo bomber squadron all dedicated to ground attack.

We came to this world with over 60 cohorts of Imperial Legionaries, two dozen of our new assault guns, three dozen battle tanks, four dozen infantry fighting vehicles, six dozen light tanks, 300 artillery pieces, and 2 Legionary Ritual Plate Air Groups.

Not to mention the Air Group on the Valhalla or the dozen medium carriers escorting the landing fleet.

I controlled my breathing as I stood in front of my demi-wing. We were on the starboard RP bay of the Valhalla. I was in my Polyxo armor with my helmet off, looking every bit the imperious young Tribune.

Prefect Baroness VioletBlood, commander of my second squadron, was at one side. Visha my wingwoman and aide de camp on the other.

Our Imperatrix had just finished her speech which had been relayed fleet-wide over the primary circuit, and it was a fine speech, full of sympathy and appeals to history, and talk of vengeance and ruination. BlackSky was already on the ground, her and four Daughters. That such a force was required was ominous, but we were already here.

"Listen up!" I cried to my troops as four dozen war maniacs that had taken everything I could throw at them. Every one of them had been pushed to the limits of their healing and their suits, but they just kept coming back. Each one of them was equipped in a Polyxo Advanced Multi-Role suit with a Gorgon Rig, all fully rated and experienced.

The 406th Evaluation Wing was a formidable force of the best Imperial Legion, and even some Fleet, fliers I could find to put between myself and the House's enemies. Their status and equipment made them an expensive investment for the Legions, but one that had paid off, and this was our reward. My tail twitched. I was not sure how a handful of squadrons I intended to check and proof equipment before it entered into general deployment ended up being some of the House's elites but here we were.

"We are here because peace talks failed. We are here because we are to show the signatories of the Unseelie Accords what we can do." I stated, not believing the words. The betrayal of the Fomor was expected. It was inevitable, which was why we were here.

"In their hubris the Fomor gave the citizens of this city, and the other Accorded Nations, the White Court, the Council, the Fae Courts, hours to prepare to mount their meager defenses. " My tail swished. "We have obliged our froggy enemy."

"We are here because nearly ten million humans who had no idea about magic or other species just got hit by a sucker punch and are about to be invaded by an enemy that brags about how their forces are legion. They claim a hundred thousand troops, a literal titan of invincible armor, and an arcane weapon that can destroy all she sees. They claim they will turn this city into pandemonium.

"Do not make the mistakes the enemy did, nor our supposed allies. You underestimate these humans at your own peril. This is their city and they will have reinforcements coming in. Flight Ops should inform you but keep an eye out for rotary or fixed-wing assets that are not ours. Make sure they have something to target on the ground."

I pulled my lips back into a sneer flashing my fangs. "You will educate the Fomor, my girls. In their hubris they come without significant airpower and rush up the beaches.” I was skeptical, but as far as our intelligence sourced the Fomor were built around an aquatic and amphibious raiding force. They seemed to have little capacity for truly combined arms tactics. I had been faced with incompetent invaders in my past life, but there was no reason to not be cautious now. The Titan leading their forces was a strategic asset in her own right. But that was why the Imperatrix was here, not to mention the powerful potentates of the other Accorded Nations.

“Show them the power of BlackSky's Imperial Legion. Make them realize the folly of letting us land in order and ceding air superiority. Show them what a place of demons really is."

I slipped my helmet on and motioned for the First Squadron to get up. Behind my mask I let my expression drop. Urban combat was a nightmare, and we were going to be dropping into a city where the human population was caught between two major and about a dozen minor supernatural factions.

This was not the way I had envisioned visiting Chicago.

Author's Notes:

Tried something a bit new, let me know if previews like this are something you like.

Just a preview of where I see Tauria's future going and some plotlines in the future. Those of you familiar with the Blood Debts sub arc will see how this crosses over and fits into the main Return storyline.

I've got about 45,000 words written fro the "Battle of Chicago" project. And speaking of main Return storyline I have the next chapter of Bonding Allure that I plan to post soon, and the oft delayed ending to Our Sister as well.

And for Little Demon... well ch10 has nearly 5,000 words and there are two pieces of Tauria and her mom(s) that are in the work that I think you will find horrifically sweet and adorable.


And special thanks to Preier DCG, Ellf, Green Sea, and for checking and reading over this snippet.

 

To celebrate hitting 10 chapters let's show some art of two characters people have been wondering about.


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(By the excellent Daywalkerrl link to artist's DA page )
And here we see a young Tauria (before she entered into the Legions) being fussed over by her mothers Duchess SilverFlight and Sister Clementia.


There's a couple more pieces in the works, including everyone's favorite two pilots with names starting with Vi.

 

We've got a few great things today!

From FishTheTaco232 we have another great sketch.

This one is Tauria in profile with her and her armor,

Spoiler

And we've got some flags.


From WrandmWaffles we have this great flag for House BlackSky.

Spoiler

There are also a couple variants for patches and vehicle mounts

I pyt my hand and put in a draft version of House Alecto's flag.

Spoiler

The other great houses will have flags and heraldry made for them in time as well.


I also posted the final chapter to Our Sister, the Idiot. Which connects to the whole collected set of stories involving these Diyu Demons.
(Specifically it's part of the Dresden Files branch started with Blood Debts).



I'm also 3k words into ch11 of Little Demon, and have a few other art pieces in progress. Including one that has Tauria and her two faovrite people with names starting with Vi.

 

To celebrate hitting Chapter 11 Run Though the Jungle (thanks to Scopas for the title) getting to 9,000 words and as a reward to watchers new and old.

Let's have some art of the three characters that everyone has been clamoring about.




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(By the excellent Daywalkerrl link to artist's DA page )


As promised we have Tauria and everyone's favorite two pilots with names starting with Vi. This one is set a bit in the future, likely after the combat arc starting in ch11.

Personally, think the little Baroness is handling things well. And Visha has experience dealing with the Tanya/Tauria.

 

In the spirit of:
1) Succubus Dresden's who are loosely tied to their parent Succubus Tanya Story (seriously read WrandmWaffles 's Story Ragged Angel)

2) And well it is April Fools, so why not give a "trick" that's more content, if related.


This takes place just before the first Side Story and showed events leading up to the "invasion"

(If succubus Dresden isn't your cup of tea, I mean this is a Tanya fic... don't worry I also plan to post a snippet of ch12 of Little Demon as well)



+++++

"Chicago was on fire, and it wasn't my fault"
-Halley BlackStone Copperfield Dresden

My tail curled as I looked over the bloodied, battered body of my half brother Thomas.

He was being supported by Lara, one of his sisters on his father's side.

We had rescued him from being imprisoned in the dungeon of the mini castle that was the Better Future Society. Dungeon my frosty butt, it was the remains of my old sub basement lab.

Still... we had got him out, and under the nose of the Accorded Nations. Including the Svartalves who had... beaten him halfway to death. I flexed my hands and managed to keep my claws from sliding out. My brother had attacked the Svartalves under a diplomatic truce in their embassy had almost killed Etri the leader of their mission.

Looking around the exercise room I confirmed that it was all grayed out from the potion I had had us drink, except for the very interesting illusion in the center of a boxing ring. I might have lingered on that a bit longer than I should have. But I had to make sure no one had spotted us.

I had considered Etri a... friend. And Thomas had killed one of Etri's guards, a man I had known. Our kids had played together.

And Thomas had killed him and tried to kill more. And in response the Svartalves had demanded their form of justice. They had not beat him out of cruelty, that would come later, but as a way to reduced him as a threat, to keep his Hunger focused on his wounds.

Someone had forced my brother to do this. Instead of coming to me he tried a suicidal run at a supernatural nation at the seat of their power.

And I didn't know why.

Lara gave me an opaque look. "What next demoness?" she quietly asked with an arch tone.

My horns tingled, even with the spell insulating us from everyone's notice, I could still feel all the people at the Peace Talks, including my Family. They were people who could help, but... "His Hunger's killing him isn't it?"

The Queen of the White Court of Vampires nodded, her blue-black hair shaking. "It's something that can happen to any of us, if we get too hurt, too damaged... and we don't feed then the demon bonded to our soul will start eating us." Her pale features softened. Lara was a monster, a polite and organized monster, given she was able to run the snake-pit that was the White Court, but she did care about her family.

And even after going to a literal succubus city, the capital of a demonic empire, she was still one of the most dangerously beautiful people I knew.

"It's not too late," I stated.

"Dresden, I have seen this before," her voice was sad. "When I used a Favor to get you to help me I had hoped..."

"He's still alive. It's not too late," I growled.


As he held our brother, Lara's gaze slipped to the reception room. Some of her sisters were there representing the White Court. I got the impression that she would have preferred to have a less ostentatious display, for one her puppet Father, the official if figurehead King was not present.

But across from the white silken and silver banners and rich leather lounging couches were the carved dark hardwood furniture and ebony and silver banners of House BlackSky.

Complete with a tasteful if severe group of Alpinum Guard, a collection of Daughters, and BlackSky herself.

BlackSky as tall and elegant in her gold and ruby trimmed ebony gown. Obsidian curls tumbled down her back as vast sweeping horns curled from her forehead. Her tail swishing, she bore the casual confidence in her power that had been there every time I met her.

This was the Imperatrix of one of the dominant Great Houses on her world. One who had invaded and conquered worlds who had Legions and Fleets at her command, but was standing in a small castle in the middle of Chicago chatting with other leaders.

If not for a literal dragon and Norse god were also in attendance. It would be a bit much. Ferrovax seemed to take the whole Peace Talks with a distant amusement. Though the dragon had a few polite, if stiff, words with my Grandmother. There was some old history here.

Vadderung, CEO of Monoc Securities, and other positions, was more friendly with my Grandmother. Which was expected, he was one of the Accorded Nations who had signed off on House BlackSky joining.

The Winter Court of Fae and the Svartalfheim being the other two powers.

Which made the Chancellor of the White Court, Lara, the Winter Knight, White Council Wizard, and an Imperial Silvan Princess, all me alas, breaking a rightful prisoner who had wronged Svartalfheim out of custody...

Problematic.

I knew Mab and the Council would throw me to the wolves if I were caught. But for different reasons. The Council had been looking for a reason to fully kick me out for years, what with the whole Warlock fears, then the working for Mab, and turning into a demon chick. Meanwhile, Mab's feeling was any Knight who was unskilled to get caught doing such a thing was hardly worthy of her service.

BlackSky? Well.. that was the question. I knew she was not about using... reconnaissance troops. Mira was also very inquisitive and loved reading and learning about whatever place she visited.

Also, the last time my sisters came over... well my eldest sister got up to trouble with my brother looking for me: burning a warehouse down fighting necromancers and vampires. And then my middle sister Eve had been meeting with Vadderung and others.

Not to mention the maps of Mira's that I had seen. Maps with arrows and units. And lists of buildings and Landing Zones and other lists.

Grandmother had plans. She had History. And she did not join the Accords out of a whim nor without learning what she was getting into.

I was not sure what she'd do if I wrecked her diplomacy. How far into the whole "Imperial Rome Dressup" did they go?

I knew the Fomor, a united group of exiled and banished monsters that had fled under the seas and had started attacking and abducting people after some fool had destroyed the Red Court, would just love the Accords to Fall to disunity.

Mostly BlackSky was letting DawnStrike play diplomat while her other Daughters, including the two youngest: AshRain and my Mother circulated a bit.

"You want their help?" Lara sniffed.

"I mean... not now... anyway I've got a plan that can keep anyone from tracking Thomas magically that's the important thing." My gaze went back into the room. Mother could help. Yes, Thomas would be a renegade from the Accorded Nations. But Silvana was in another world. Or... if that was too obvious, Mother had other places.

But that wouldn't be Thomas' choice. Not in his condition right now.

And I got a feeling that Grandmother would be more upset with me taking that choice away from Thomas than me violating the accords by breaking him out.

"Right," Lara gave me a look. "At least the dark haired prissy big sister can charm without showing her fangs, and the younger military officer is straightforward in her evaluating everyone as a target. But arrogant flame-haired one just barely conceals her superiority."

I snorted. Her description of DawnStrike, AshRain, and CloudFire was largely correct. At least Felisia was not here she was even more of a Silvan cultural snob. I also knew that any of my Aunts could be perfectly diplomatic, so whatever attitude they were taking was done deliberately.

Not that it would take much acting on CloudFire's part. While they considered the Fae Courts to be respectful in size and having some culture, if alien, and they shared much of the fondness of beauty and craft that attracted them to Svartalfheim and vice versa.

Other Accorded Nations were... well... the White Court was powerful, in politics and culture and finance. They had fingers in many places and were information brokers. And where personally powerful and ageless alluring predators.

But they also ruled in the shadows. BlackSky ruled a nation state that bore her name. Her palace was the tallest building in her capital city. But that was the Accords. There were some signatories who were unique powerful entities like Ivy the Archive of all Mortal Knowledge, or the purely vanilla Baron Gentleman Johnny Marcone, or Vadderung who wore many hats.

Then there the polities which ranged from the Tylwyth Teg a minor, but proudly independent Fey court ruled by Gwyn ap Nudd, a nice guy who enjoyed baseball, to Svartalfheim who were larger and more powerful but mostly isolationist, then all the way up to Winter, which had the largest standing military of all the Fae powers, even larger than Summer's.

"And my mother?" I asked. "What do you think of her?"

"Young," Lara quirked her lips. "But we are out of time. Freydis' distraction will run out." She turned to the illusion of two succubae enjoying themselves in a very creative manner.

Watching the display in the ring, I exhaled and idly licked a lip as my tail swished. As distractions went Carlos was my Plan B. He was my friend; he trusted me. After tonight I'd be able to tell him what he was trusting me for.

Lara laughed. "Oh Dresden. Still Freydis is not bad, even if she overestimated your sexual prowess."

"Prowess! I'm a succubus too!"

"Only biologically." Lara shook her head. "You needed me to seduce a guard for you," she hissed, her voice dripping in shame at my incompetence.

"I had other things do to for the rescue!" I totally didn't whine as I checked that the small glass ampoule was still in my pocket. It could have fallen out or broken when we had climbed down the stone shaft to rescue my brother. And that would have ruined all the work in getting its twin into place.

Lara rolled her eyes. "Come on."

I nodded and the three of us went out of the exercise room and to a corridor, it would take us past the great hall where the Peace Talks were being conduced. And a lot of the Accorded Nations were there.

Powerful beings. Ones that might see through the "Ignore Us" potion I had us drink.

Which was why I had a backup plan. I crushed the ampoule in my hand. The fluid had a slight magical charge and was connected to the fluid that had been in the first ampoule. Fluid that was now on the grey cloak of Warden Ramirez.

Exhaling I made a fist, and gave two sharp, but short tugs.

Over in the cluster of Wardens guarding the Senior Council members Commander Ramirez looked around. He had felt the ghostly tugs on his cloak.

We only had time to setup a simple code. One pull meant failure. Two pulls meant success and he could proceed as planned. Three pulls meant we needed more... active help.

I could almost feel his tension as he tried not to grit his teeth, but he still favored his good leg. We had gone over what I wanted to do we needed a bigger distraction. Five beats after the signal I would use the thaumaturgical link to his cloak in a more... kinetic way.

Carlos trusted me. He was my friend. He knew I was keeping secrets form him, more since my change... my changes. But I had made the effort to get more... open, at least with the things I could. Especially, after we "ran into" each other in New Zeeland, and afterwards I had warned him about the possible Jade Court cells all over North America.

Despite all that, I had lied to him.

I jerked my hand after three beats, not five.

Carlos was a good actor, but not perfect; he had already started to anticipate. But now his surprise was genuine when his cloak went down and tugged far tot he left before trying to wrap around his face and drag him off to the wall. His legs kicked and he swore in Spanish as he tried to get an arm up to stop the treacherous grey cloak.

And that's when all my plans where shattered.

The Fomor had arrived.

+++++++

Lara had taken out brother out but I had to see. This was... I had to know how bad things were going to go.

King Corb, his retinue, and a giant cloaked figure strode into the hall. There was a slight smell of rot to him, above and beyond the damp fishy malodor common to the Fomor

Ramirez had recovered and stood with the wardens protecting the Senior Council. There was a guarded expression of dread on Ebenezar's face. Mab and Molly stood with the Redcap and four other Sidhe. Mother and her sisters had fanned around BlackSky.

My grandmother's poker face was more reserved than my grandfather's but she was up there with Ferrovax and Vadderung on the kind of blank-faced concern that was worrying.

Corb and his Fomor and human flunkies seemed to relish the silence.

BlackSky caught Mab's eye and my grandmother's tail curved ever so slightly.

What she was about to do next was interrupted by Corb striding forward, chains rattling, and contemptuously lobbed a small item.

It was the smell of rot. It was a small decaying severed head. Its age was hard to tell, it was waterlogged and depending on where it was stored the putrefaction could have been accelerated or retarded.

It was the King of the Tylwyth Teg, Gwyn ap Nudd, a sovereign of one of the larger Faerie subnations. I could like to call him a friend. At least we had done business, and he still sent me Cubs tickets once in a while. The Billy Goat curse was his doing. After my... change we had met a bit more. The Tylwyth Teg were one of the nations that seemed open to House BlackSky.

Nowhere near the level of Winter or Svartalfheim but they were less... skeptical than the White Council. But from what I had heard the tentative negotiations had trailed off.

Shock went through the room.

Even Vadderung looked like this was, if not wholly unexpected, then an unpleasant development.

Except... BlackSky's gaze swept the room and fell upon me. It was a brief instant but I got the feeling of negation, of patience. Well, at least my magic potion had me beneath most people's notice.

Her Daughters were still tense but there was almost a release.

I thought to the notes and maps that on reflection, Mira had left for me to find. Maybe she learned that trick from Thomas. My stomach clenched, recalling the maps of the city, my city covered in arrows and little boxes in blue and red.

And there Mira was in her prim black skirt, jacket and bustier, at BlackSky's side, being an unobtrusive aide. She was too professional to even give me a glance, but I knew she could sense me. It was hard to hide from a psion of her power.

They expected a betrayal.

Okay, the rulers Accorded Nations were not naive. They knew the Fomor could not be trusted, but they were also part of the system. They prepared for betrayal, but still thought in terms of their game.

Even the war with the Red Court took a while for the Council to realize that the Reds were not playing by the rules of war.

But even the Reds were not this proactive. This particular incarnation of the Accords may be new, but the UnSeelie Accords were built on centuries and centuries of tradition. Many of which, like the rules of hospitality: such as not murdering the host's bondsmen or presenting the severed head of a severing signatory predated the accords and were woven into the whole culture of how these supernatural nations interacted with each other.

But House BlackSky was not part of that tradition. Oh, Homeplane demons had their own rules on guest-right, but...

And I realized what Corb was going to do, what buttons he had to press on Mab. How he was going to get under her skin.

My Mother's expression was utterly calm, but she had edged closer to AshRain. The next youngest Daughter. The Legatus.

Her eyes black, Mab stared at the head.

BlackSky did not move from her position, but I could tell she was trying to will the Queen of Air and Darkness to... to at least notice the as-yet silent cloaked figure.

The room plummeted in temperature, ice formed on every metallic surface and started to rime the floor. Except for the areas around Ferrovax and the demons. I had to concentrate on my own spell to keep myself from being noticed.

But I was the Winter Knight, I was a demon comfortable with ice.

Mab's hair and gown swirled with darkness until they turned ebony, almost as dark and glossy as BlackSky's "Explain yourself," her whisper carrying in the hall.

The Fomor swaggered a step closer. He sneered, his bulging eyes mocking, ever movement coldly mocking. His velvety, malevolent voice started. "A peace gi-"

"A declaration of war," BlackSky interrupted.

The room became dead silent in that. The attendees were no fools, they knew the rules were being broken tonight, but they still had some hope that the grandstanding was...

Empty Night, even I had hope. But... I was starting to see why my Family had a reputation for bellicosity.

Hatred boiled off of him, but Korb renewed his sneer. "Ah, the whore speaks."

"Coyness does not suit you." BlackSky's tone was light but her dark eyes narrowed. She looked up to the cloaked figure. "Or shall we continue the charade that the murder of the guard outside and presenting a severed head is not some prelude to a greater conflict."

Mab spared a tiny glare at her. It was a bare fraction, orders of magnitude lower, than the hatred she had for Corb, but it was still enough to cause me to clench up as my tail curled up.

The demon empress smiled. "Perhaps you will order further murders. That's how this goes, right?" She turned to give Mira a questioning look.

Shrugging, the librarian adjusted her glasses.

"That is why you brought your minions into the hall?"

I noticed Korb's goons had started to tense their hands on their suppressed weapons.

"Meddlesome whore," Corb spat. "This is not your fight. This is between me and a past her prime woman."

The Fomor flicked his hand.

And everything was, briefly, kinetic.

His men moved, maybe a dozen suppressed weapons made their popping and chugging noises. A handful of the caterers and servers in the hall dropped. But as they fell all of the Fomor gunmen also dropped.

While the staff fell in cries and screams of bullet wounds, the gunmen died silently, with little gurgles. It was bit hard to tell with their turtlenecks but each looked like a hydraulic vise had grabbed them by the back of the neck and squeezed.

Hendricks' meaty hand kept Marcone from getting out of his seat while Gard stepped in front of him hand on her axe. The big redheaded bodyguard and the blonde Valkyrie were concerned with keeping their mobster boss alive.

A muffled cry of shock and horror came up from everyone, nearly everyone: guests and Fomor.

The Guests because they were guests.

Again it was House BlackSky's representatives who instead of reacting with shock and outrage had readied themselves.

The Fomor because.. they did not expect to take losses. "Who killed my men!" Corb screamed.

And I resolved never to play poker against Mira. The mild librarian aide had not sunk into the background, she was not trying to hide, she was not being unobtrusive, she simply was unobtrusive. No one noticed the admin retinue next to the demon queen.

She killed over a dozen armed men, maybe not quick enough to save all of Marcone's people, but she saved maybe two-thirds of them. And did it right under King Korb's nose.

No one noticed her. No one thought to look at her.

She was doing with mental training and body language what I was doing via magic.

Mab slowly rose. Her hair, eyes, and nails were now all a deep obsidian that went past my grandmother's look, with an even paler shin as white as the Pale Horse itself. "You dare. YOU DARE! YOU ARE A GUEST IN THIS HOUSE!"

"Read your own laws, woman," Corb sneered. "The Hirelings were no members of a house, vassals, nor lackeys. Chattel at best. Meanwhile someone murdered my lackeys." His bulging eyes scanned the room.

"Take your wereguild, little man," he absently said throwing a velvet bag to where it landed before Gard with the clink of metal. "It seems I overpaid," he gave a mocking laugh to cover his disquiet at losing minions this early.

"But before we get distracted who do I thank for such a... display?" he asked idly kicking a vertebrae-crushed minion.

The chill in the room grew as plumes of frost came out of tension-tight faces.

BlackSky's smile reveled her fangs. "Please, do lodge a complaint with the other signatories. Perhaps with the patron of these Accords."

"Leg-spreading bitch," Corb frothed as he turned to Mab. "What say you old woman? Will you let more make a mockery of your club? I remember the pimply-bawling brat who rode with the Conqueror. I remember you weeping when Merlin cast you out."

Mab...

She ignored any warning subtext from my grandmother, from Ferrovax from Vadderung.

Mab boiled with ugly, naked, absolute rage. Her body turned utterly still and rigid.

"What do you think?" Corb purred. "If he were among us, would he love you still? Would he have pride of what you've become?"

Reality seemed to twist as Mab suddenly appeared standing within an arm's length of Corb, a laser-straight line of frost between where she had been to where she was now.

Mab hissed. "Your maggot lips are not worthy to speak of his name."

"There's the true you," Corb purred "You're still alive inside all that ice. Gather power all you wish, old woman."

Mab's rigidity resumed.

"Call upon the whores if you think it helps," Corb cackled. And where is the head of the other whores?" he asked, looking over the White Court's space.

I hoped Lara was nearly at the Marina with Thomas.

BlackSky simply let her gaze pass over Corb.

"You're not offended? Maybe the name fits," he purred. "Maybe you intend to pay me back via trade.

BlackSky's smile returned. "To take offense requires you to respect the other party.

"Respect," he spat. "Then you should simply fear, whore."

"I do not fear the dog when I know how long of a chain his mistress put around his collar." BlackSky's smirk was small but present.

Corb's anger grew.

BlackSky nodded. "Ah, so you respect my opinion." She looked at the giant cloaked figure expectant.

Cord's froggy eyes stared daggers. "Is this your defender old woman? Whores, vultures and interlopers?" He returned to Mab with glee. "You know what allying with demons will do. But... should we be surprised? You know who you were, and so do I. You were a scared little mortal. You were no one. You are no one."

A very human-looking fury twisted Mab's face, and that terrified more than I'd been in a good long time. Her lips snarling, she was about to speak, but her eyes widened as her focus shifted, her gaze tracking up the chain that was around Corb.

An immense bronze and crystalline fist held Corb's chain. The cloaked figure was just as fast as Mab. One moment she was three yards beyond Corb, the next there was a thunder crack.

It was impossible to tell what happened with any sensible timeline. I think the cloaked woman kicked. Defensive energies beyond anything I could comprehend formed around Mab. The kick went through them all. With the thunder came the scream of shattering stone.

The wall behind Winter's seat had a coffin-sized ragged hole. As did the wall behind that. The Queen of Air and Darkness was nowhere to be seen, though I could just barely feel her presence.

Once more the room was stunned into silence.

Slowly, with deliberate drama, the figure peeled back her hood.

Made of bronze and crystal, the woman was beautiful beyond mortal reckoning. I had seen royals of the Red Court in their finest flesh masks, shadows of Fallen Angels at their most tempting, the glamour of fae royalty, the sharp lethal beauty of Angles of Death, the allure of the White Court and the Imperial Family of House BlackSky.

All lacked... something when compared to the woman before us. Her long slick hair was like silken silver. Her figure was of giant scale but perfect proportions.

But her eyes... Well it was one eye.

One eye was a crystalline emerald green.

The other...

Mutilating features of bronze perfection were bulging, granite-like scars around a mangled orbital. The lids were closed but they bulged as if the eye inside was considerably larger than it should be.

Energy throbbed around her. Something ancient, terrible, primal. It was something that demanded obedience, adoration, terror. It was from a time forgotten. A time when blood...

Before me was a goddess.

My breath caught, I felt rooted to my spot.

The room moaned in terror and adoration.

One of the voices was mine....

Until a warm, familiar presence cut through. I blinked.

With more clarity, I noticed Vadderung and Ferrovax had came to their feet fists clenched. Instead of glaring at each other their adamantine stares were at the woman.

The goddess' cyclopean gaze swept the room. She took in each face. The Winter Lacy got a withering look of pure contempt that came to the rest of the Accorded nations. She gave just as much distaste for House BlackSky as she gave the others.

She spoke....

If not for the help of Grandmother, with probably a bit of Mira's abilities thrown in....

Even with the protection it was a hot bath and warm soup on a cold day. It was chocolate and sex. My tail swished despite it all. Her voice promised things; it compelled; it filled the room.

"Children, children," she murmured. Her head shoot in disapproval. "The world has gone to the children."

BlackSky's grin became knowing.

The goddess looked past her to Ferrovax, cheek twitching. Her gaze then went from the dragon to Vadderung. Her teeth, white and perfect showed. "One-eye. Are you still in the Game? Does your arrogance have any limit? Look at how you've fallen. Consorting with insects, as if you were little more than mortal yourself."

No one spoke.

No one moved.

From BlackSky it was... expectant. It was hard to read her. If she was scared she was not letting it show, but the mocking expression with Corb was gone. Here, she seemed wary. But she was also watching the others, seeing who would react.

And then there were steps on the stone floor, and the demon empress gave a tiny smile.

Gentleman Johnny Marcone stepped out from the unwavering Gard, impeccable with his suit. He had to be frightened. Afterall, unlike me, he had no ancient demon giving him mental protection.

But he did not show any fear. He simply strode forward clear from his guards. He stepped around a bloodstain where one of his staff had been dragged away by the other survivors, and around the body of a Fomor gunman with his neck flopped in an unnatural angle.

"Good evening, madam. I am Baron John Marcone. This is my home. Might I have the pleasure of knowing how you with to be addressed?"

The goddess narrowed her eye. She watched him with the revulsion that came from swarms of maggots or things you found underneath rocks. She dismissed him from her attention and went to Vadderung again.

"This is your host?" her tone was demanding. "At least the half-breed demons have a spark to them. But you permit a mortal among you? What of dignity? Of pride? Has the world gone this astray?" she shook her head.

"We have failed it. And I will no longer fearfully huddle in the seas and stand by as the mortals turn it into another filthy hive."

She stared down at Marcone. Circling him, she shook her head in judgment.

My grandmother looked across the room to my grandfather. Ebenezar pulled out of his shock to give the demonic empress a dark look. Other than that no one moved.

Without looking at the dragon, she pointed to Ferrovax. "Introduce me to this ephemeral."

The silence drew on, but Ferrovax eventually spoke in ragged voice as if every word was being pulled out with a tooth. "This is Ethniu. Daughter of Balor. The last Titan."

Ethniu lowered her pointing finger. Ferrovax gasped, staggering, putting a hand on his chair to balance as he breathed heavily.

BlackSky's expression did not change, not really. But it seemed that her aloofness withdrew a fraction as she became more calculating. Her Daughters were figuratively under the protection of her wings, like chicks in a rainstorm. But they were also... distant.

They had a plan. A titan was a matter of grave concern for them but not... not unexpected.

Stars and Stones, what had they planned for? What could Four Daughters, BlackSky and a handful of guards and librarians do? Though knowing them... nothing the Titan would expect.

Ethniu continued, addressing the room. "Manifestly, this world has failed. You thought banding together was wise? To live quietly. To embrace--" her lip sneered-- "civility. And with the mortals that used to tremble at the tread of our feet?

I would have trembled pretty hard right now. I didn't know if I could make a voluntary motion. I was not sure which was worse, that my grandmother's grace would keep me from doing something... rash, or that she would let me.

Ethniu began to pace slowly. "I have stood by doing nothing for too much of my life. I have watched holy place after holy place fall to the mortals. Forrest after Forest. Sea after Sea. They dare to walk where they were never meant to walk. As they do, the divine retreats, withers dies."

I got the mental sense of, BlackSky's head tilted slightly at that first bit. As if that part of Ethniu's history was "useful intelligence".

That emerald eye fell upon me. It was like a mouse being studied by a tank. Immense weight pressed upon me, studied me, then dismissed me in a moment.

"The mortals grow more numerous, more petty, more vicious, all while fouling the world we helped created. Their filth, their buildings, their machines."

BlackSky took in those last two points with the quiet satisfaction of someone doing a jigsaw having two corner pieces fall into her lap.

Ethniu stopped by King Corb, almost fondly like to a pet, she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Tonight. This ends."

"Does it? Or is it merely the beginning of the end?" BlackSky's question sounded earnest.

Ethniu turned to her emerald gaze transfixing her.

"It's a logistical question. Do you plan to burn the entire world, setting back billions of scrabbling, squirming to a more tractable state?" the demon's smile was all fangs. "Or, do you plan to sow fear and hatred. Bring the mortals low on critical locations to start a conflagration that will have them tear their own hearts out."

BlackSky took a couple steps forward to stand near Marcone, her wings and black gown trailing behind her. "Far be it my place to intrude on someone else's apocalyptic rapture."

Ethniu seemed momentarily taken aback.

"Even with the most powerful of weapons... the strongest host," BlackSky gave her smile to King Corb. "Killing that many mortals. Even if they are cowed and prostate. Well.. eventually, your minions' sword arms will get tired."

Various emotions played against the Titan's face, Ethniu decided to go with disdain. "You mock me half-breed? I know your kind, you refugees from the pit."

BlackSky gave Marcone a small shrug. "It seems her plan has already addressed such issues." And I got the feeling that now BlackSky had all four corner pieces.

"So you say," the mobster deadpanned.

BlackSky was a tall woman, but Ethniu loomed over her. "You saw what I did to the cold queen, little demon."

BlackSky gave a genuine sigh. "I saw a tantrum, a loss of face at breaking the rules."

Ethniu sneered. "Yes she does like to think she's in control. This is not your fight half-breed."

BlackSky looked at the other Signatories. "This is not my world. Shall you burn it?"

Ethniu nodded. "And I have no interest in your petty domain. You, however, are too late. You will not pick over these wasted shadows. They are mine."

Giving that same sharp smile, BlackSky stepped back to her Daughters.

"Yes, flee back to your little home," Ethniu chuckled.

Corb roiled with indignant range.

"Give them no mind," the Titan assured him. "The half-breed tries to mask her fear glib sycophancy."

Dismissing the demons from her mind, she strode to Vadderung and dropped to one knee, so she could speak eye to eye. "I remember what you were. I respect you, because of that I assume you see some redeeming value among these..." her hand encompassed the room. "Children. Given that respect, I offer you something I was never given: a choice."

I was not sure what the puzzle my grandmother was making but she seemed nearly finished with it.

The Titan looked around the room. "I offer it to all the divine here.... and the infernal, if I must. Tonight, at the witching hour, we who you thought defeated, banished, fallen, humbled... we will march upon the mortal world-- starting wit this fetid hive around us."

Her smile was glories and terrible. "Finally."

BlackSky blinked and made the smallest motion of her chin and tail. It looked like even she was surprised by what the completed jigsaw puzzle looked like. AshRain and DawnStrike also gave tiny motions. Those had to be deliberate tells. Or else Ethniu's statement was so out of line that even their composure cracked.

I studied my aunts, my Mother. They were silent and tense, and fear came off them, but I could feel more... there was a.... disbelieving... relaxation.

BlackSky said it at the start, this was a declaration of war. She expected a fight here and now. That the Fomor would strike this castle in force.

Immediately.

Not... in about four hours.

I thought back to the maps full of arrows and the charts with their neat rows of blandly stated destruction. Time... the Titan was giving them... time.

The demon's reaction was ignored. Vadderung was speaking. His voice was raspy as if it took great effort but his tone was strong.

"Ethniu. Do not do this. You have no idea."

Something much like pity crossed the Titan's face. "I remember that you were once great," her voice was quiet. "For the being I remember, I owe you this one chance: Do not interfere. My quarrel is with the mortals. Stand aside, there need be no conflict between us."

She gestured to the hole behind the high seat. "That creature cannot protect you. She cannot enforce her justice. Each of the divine must choose: abandon the mortal world-- or burn with it."

I swore under my breath. Why did grandmother have to be right? Why did it have to be burning?

Ethniu's closed eye quivered. Suddenly there was light behind the scarred eyelid. Red, pulsing through the thin skin. She leaned back her head, took a breath, and opened the Eye, screaming.

The scream deafened me. I had an instant to curse my demonic hearing, but it was far, far more painful than just that. The scream pressed into my mind. It was emotion so violent and intense that to let a piece into my mind would shatter my sanity.

Light burst from the Titan, lashing out and through the ceiling. Whatever it touched rotted and flaked away, fabric decaying and the edges bursting to flame. Previously unseen runes and sigils carved into the stones of the castle throbbed with a blue glow.

A castle's worth of magical defenses stood against the power of a goddess.

They failed.

Stone became dust. The energy from the Eye exploded upward through the ceiling, and the floors above, before blasting through the roof into the summer night. Magical energy came out in a wave of such power and intensity that it had seemed impossible.

Even when compared to the works of the Merlin on Demonreach, the cold, disturbing artifice of Serenity the First, the channeled power of BlackSky. This.... this was more than all of those.

More than anything else when Ethniu released the Eye was when things started to change. Both in her actions and those taken in response.

Magic was rampant, it howled over the streets of Chicago. It was a typhoon of raw power. And everywhere it touched... the mortal world sank into darkness.

Power systems failed. Transformers exploded. Electronics screamed and died. Demonic... well infernal... images and sounds screamed out of devices before they failed. Trains went powerless, cars sputtered and slammed into each other by the thousands.

Planes... O'Hare was one of the busiest airports in the country. Several passenger jets landing or taking off fell out of the sky, their engines out, their control surfaces dead.

The city was consumed by total darkness.

It was a miracle that my potion was still active, though that magic was inside me...

I was on my knees making pained sounds.

I was not alone.

The room was light by firelight. So we could still see.

The last Titan, and King Corb were gone.

I looked over and saw Vadderung as he fell heavily back onto his chair. He looked stunned. There was something... foreboding but... something else to his expression. I followed his gaze...

BlackSky was helping Marcone to his feed. My grandmother gave Gard a respectful smile and evaluated her Daughters, aides and guards.

Seeing they were all getting back up, BlackSky nodded.

There was a moment that stretched out. She was their Empress. They would follow her whatever her order. If she decided to take Ethniu's offer and leave this world to its fate, they would, though Mother would probably protest and request to stay at my side.

If BlackSky decided... well whatever the other option was...

"Dawn, can you do it?"

DawnStrike gave a thin smile. "Yes, it would be my pleasure."

"Go, light the Beacon."

The dark-haired Daughter bowed her head and strode out of the hall before anyone else could speak.

I turned back to Vadderung. He was stunned, he was shocked, but there was resolution there.

+++++++++++++


For half a minute the hall was silent after my aunt quietly left.

Gentleman Johnny Marcone took in the room. "It would seem that Imperatrix BlackSky is correct. The Fomor declare war."

Ebenezar was up after the Mobster and the demons. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Not from this. My men took out their wounded before..." Marcone shook his head. He offered a hand to Molly, the Winter Lady.

She glowered but took it. He suggested she attend Mab, and they briefly talked about what was on the other side of the wall the Titan had kicked Mab through.... and the wall beyond that.

Together, Etri and his sister stood up. Voices raised in confusion and anxiety. As everyone began to recover, everyone realized how bad the situation was and the tension grew.

Except for River Shoulders. The giant sasquatch watched us all with a distant expression. He was not good with crowds and his sensitivity must have made this a special nightmare to him, but he bore it with stoicism.

And House BlackSky. That side of my family had formed into a loose huddle and were having a conversation that had few words and was mostly quick gestures and expressions. Given Mira's presence I wondered how much of it was telepathic.

Carter LaChaise and his ghouls got up and headed towards the exit.

Marcone confronted them as they tried to leave.

His tone was bored and reasonable. He did not accuse LaChaise of cowardice, merely inquired, and then blandly reminded of the mutual defense stipulations in the Unseelie Accords.

"Mab was the Accords. If the Titan can swat her aside, what chance to any of us have?" He looked around the room for support. "Do you think you can stand up to Ethniu and Corb? You can throw your short life away if that is your desire, mortal. The rest of us were doing business long before these recent Accords, we can do so again. Tread carefully mortal, for the accusations you make, unless you would want your own entrails to be used as sausage links."

He gave a crocodilian grin. "Besides, all of us signed out of fear to Mab."

"Not all of us, ghoul," BlackSky stated stepping up to a pace behind Marcone. "And based on actions you take I will happily declare you a coward. And we shall see who makes sausage out of the other."

LaChaise quivered with rage. "The newcomers," he spat. "This isn't your fight."

"Apparently, it's not yours either. I have no use for undisciplined cannibalistic rabble."

Twisting to face both of them, Marcone's voice cracked out. "You are guests, Sir, Madame. In my house."

BlackSky bowed her head. LaChaise was held rigid in place. He turned to see the rest of the leadership of the Accorded Nations starting at him.

"Baron Marcone is correct," Etri of the Svartalves said. "We are all signatories, we are all obligated to come to Mab's defense."

LaChaise worked his extended jaw. His voice hissed and snarled from that. "Your people bleed from a mere White Court Assassin. Do you think you can challenge a Titan?"

Etri looked at the ghoul as if he were simple. "Not alone." He nodded firmly to Marcone. "Svartalfheim does not make commitments lightly. We shall stand in defense of the city."

As Marcone returned the nod, I noticed that BlackSky had slipped back to her group.

"Fools" LaChaise sighed. "This is hopeless. The enemy has given free rein to prepare. We have mere hours to assemble our own forces."

This time I could see the look of disbelief on BlackSky's face. I was reminded of a lesson about fighting Warlocks I tried to teach new Wardens... well back when they let me teach new Wardens. If you gave a Practitioner, any Practitioner, but especially the more powerful and experienced ones, time to prepare, they became at least an order of magnitude more dangerous.

The ghoul continued. "Assuming there is no spoiling attack. Do you think Corb means to fight fair?"

"Obviously not." Marcone shared a look with BlackSky. "That makes me consider that he is not invincible-- otherwise why not simply attack? And avoid all of this.... drama. He is attempting to divide us, make us easier to defeat one at a time. Defeat in detail as you would say Legate?" he asked AshRain.

My aunt nodded to him with a thin smile.

"And the Titan? Do you know what it is that she was wearing?" the ghoul demanded.

"Titanic bronze," Etri noted. "An alloy beyond the skill of even my people. A secret only known to the Hundred-Handed Ones."

The small grey-alien-like man paused before explaining. "Mere physical force will never stop her. The most puissant of power stand any chance of doing more than annoying her."

"A problem to be overcome," Marcone looked to Cristos. "Perhaps our clever friends of the White Council have a solution."

The oily but stentorian wizard Cristos looked to Ebenezar. The two of them exchanged looks with the other Senior council members.

As they had a brief conference BlackSky summoned my mother and the two came over to Marcone and Etri. "My daughter BloodMist has a unique set of skills that may proof useful. She is educated and experiences with energy resistant materials of both mortal and arcane manufacture."

Etri looked the pink-haired demoness over.

"Mother has a wide variety of assets that we can call upon, perhaps something could mitigate this alloy's protections," BloodMist, my mother, offered. "Or perhaps bypass it, like a tank shell that kills the crew without piercing the armor."

"I doubt we could hurt the titan by making the inside surface of her amour spall off and turn to shrapnel." Etri chuckled but he looked thoughtful.

"I'll need to know some estimates as to what damage and attacks it can take. Any information on density and thickness, of the crystalline structure of the metal. Of what enchantments and if there was any alchemy in the manufacture," Mother's voice was eager. This was her element, and a material as adamantine as Titanic-bronze had to fascinate her.

"I can provide some of that, but much of what we know is myth and conjecture," Etri admitted, sharing a bit of her enthusiasm, one crafter to another.

Wizard Listens-to-Wind had gotten up from the huddle and came over. He nodded to BloodMist. "We have some ideas. And welcome help in overcoming her protections. regardless, we stand with you and will bring a compliment of Wardens to the city's defense."

"They have ideas," LaChaise scoffed. "The wizards and the demons have ideas." He looked at the rest of the room. "What does this city, what do these mortals, mean to you? I say let the Fomor spend their strength on the mortals."

"Idiot," Ferrovax snapped. A plume of thick volcanic-smelling smoke plumed out his nostrils. "You know the mortals. Once they are awakened, frightened, angers... they will lash out at any supernatural threat they can find. And remember, LaChaise, you do not have the luxury of dwelling beneath an ocean the mortals have barely explored. Or living on another plane of existence," he said to BlackSky and the Fae Courts.


"The wurm is right," Vadderung exchanged a nod with Ferrovax. "We must stop Ethniu here and now. If a mortal city this size is sacked, there will be no way to contain their rage."

BlackSky gave him a look as if to say, "Nor should they." At that moment, DawnStrike returned to the hall and gave a curt nod to her mother.

Vadderung exhaled. "Foolish and blind as they are, they are many, and full of the courage of ignorance. Business as usual? No, there will be war. And Ethniu and Corb will sit in their palace under the sea and laugh as the rest of us try to survive."

He sad the last giving BlackSky a steady look. As if gauging which way she would go.

I wondered myself. This was not her world, but she had expressed... annoyance at the secrecy of the Accorded nations and how they treated humans. Which made a sort of sense, short of Winter and maybe Summer, House BlackSky was the largest Accorded Nation.

In a war against the supernatural... would she take the side of the... mortals? I knew her spies and agents were doing more than making maps and studying technology and documenting assets.

Would the mortal powers accept their help?

House BlackSky were demons, overtly so. However they were also a nation-state in their own right. I glanced over at BlackSky.

I could see her offering weapons designs, knowledge. Things that would augment mortal soldiers.... and would make the fight far worse. Though maybe with a bit more focus...

BlackSky looked around the room with that confident smile and for a brief moment met my gaze. And I recalled that part of the reason her empire had its... reputation among its enemies was not jut their own capabilities, not just things like what BlackSky did after DarkStar's death, but that BlackSky was more than willing to trade with allies.

The empress then looked to Vadderung and gave a quizzical look.

And my stomach churned, for all his words.... Vadderung... Odin, liked to prepare for every contingency. If it came down to it which side would he come down on?

"And how is dying in a foolish battle an improvement?" LaChaise acidly, asked. "If Mab cannot stand against Ethniu then what can any of us do? What weapon do we have?"

Marcone's stare indicated he considered the ghoul a simpleton. "Courage. Skill. And will, Sir," the robber baron of Chicago said before turning to Vadderung. "I desire to contract every available Einherjaren for a night."

"Five hundred can be here in the next few hours," Vadderung stated.

Nodding, Marcone looked to the king of the Svartalves. "Etri?"

Breaking off from a conversation with my mother, the Svatelf steepled his fingers. "My people are more artisans than warriors. We shall fight-- but our assistance with defenses and providing equipment will be a greater boon. Baron, our armories are open to you."

Marcone gave another nod and regarded the dragon. "Sir?"

Ferrovax nodded thoughtfully. "I must be subtle. Otherwise would risk destroying more of the city than I save."

Vadderung gave BlackSky, who had pulled back a bit to chat with Mira, AshRain, and DawnStrike, a flat look. The demons had seemed to pull back a bit.

"With Etri's consent and consul, I shall bar the underworld to them, preventing them from moving though or beneath the earth. One-eye?"

Returning his attention to the others, Vadderung nodded slowly. "I will close all the Ways within the city itself. After my troops arrive in the city," he amended while BlackSky gave a tiny bow of her horns.

"That will leave them with only one angle of attack: the water," Marcone stated.

"Aye, their power is greater beneath the waves. They'll bore though any defense beneath the lake."

"We will deploy our forces against an attack from the lake," Marcone was resolute. "I will bring the full strength of my own organization here."

There was a polite cough. Or as polite of a cough as could come from the giant, hulking form of a sasquatch. It sounded like demolition charge. Pushing up his wire-rim glasses, River Shoulders adjusted his bow tie and stepped forward.

"My people are not yet Signatories of the Accords. However, if my understanding is correct, what is happening here has the potential to bring great harm. I stand with you."

Wizard Listens-to-Wind laughed he gave a broad smile. "Be good to work with you again, River."

River Shoulders winked to Listens-to-Wind. River was not one to rush into things. And a Forest Person who meant business was one of the most dangerous things to go up against.

"What of the White Court?" Ebenezar asked. "Where is Ms. Raith?"

My tail stilled. Sending her off... might not have been the best move. But we had to rescue our brother.

A confused murmur went up, and eyes fell into the White Court's section of the hall.

Only Riley, the head of her mortal gaud force, was there to speak. "Ms. Raith is attending matters of state. I have sent a runner with orders to bring her forces to combat readiness. A hundred guns plus whichever members of the house are in residence at the chateau. I will need her authorization before engaging, but I know when will want her forces staged here," he said, his voice steady.

I could see why my elder sister liked him.

"Transportation, communications," Marcone stated. "If anything that hex Ethniu threw was more effective than others I have seen at destroying technology. We are going to have difficulty reaching everyone and bringing them together."

BlackSky looked up from her work with AshRain and Mira. She gave a curt nod then faded to the background almost as well as I had. Mother was busy making notes and giving Etri the occasional question.

Svartalves were master crafters who coveted beauty in all its forms. That was part of how my brother had been able to get close to them... before he, for some reason, decided to try to assassinate Etri.

Still, the Svartalves valued their commitments, and had found in House BlackSky a group of other master crafters, these of unearthly beauty and allure. In her way, my Mother was quite tempting to them.

Now a cough came from the far end of the Hall. The Summer Lady had been consulting with her security team, including the Summer Knight. Sarissa's hair was now a cloud of white silken strands, over a dress that was leaf green. Not that I could see that given how the blending potion I drank made everything shades of grey to me.

She and Molly looked a scary amount alike. Almost like twins. I knew... well that wasn't relevant right now. That was Old-Man Harry's problem.

Looking intensely uncomfortable, Sarissa rose. "I can help with communications. The Little Folk are well suited for those tasks. Perhaps the roof of this castle as a command center? Or at least an easy access point for messengers."

Molly slid out of the whole behind the high seat with a rustle. "I've been handling transport for Winter troops for some time. I can bring more in, as long as I know where they need to be."

"Excellent," Marcone said as he motioned for some of his men to escort a few of Sarissa's people up to the roof to get started.

Watching all this BlackSky gave a smile that had pride. As if she was impressed with how he was making the best of what he had. Afterall no one else had taken the lead. Yet.

"Communications are the place to begin," Marcone stated.

"A centralized collection of our military assets as well," a ragged voice said.

Mab pulled herself out of the wall. She had been broken, literally. Half of her had been crushed and mangled as if some industrial accident. Her motions were jerky and too-quick.

There was a hideous cracking noise as she snapped her broken shoulder into place, it rotated unnaturally in its socket. Her skin was dimpled like aluminum sheeting subject to hail damage.

Her gaze tracked around the room. LaChaise avoided her eyes and looked as if he wanted to flee. Tilting her head, BlackSky shifted to move a bit closer.

"Queen Mab," Marcone respectfully said, as if she was not slowly snapping her body back into place. "It would be good to know what forces the Winter Court intends to bring to the city's defense."

Mab stared at Marcone and then BlackSky for a moment in silence. "My second informed me as of one hour past, all the forces of winter are required elsewhere. The Gates are under intense attack."

My guts lurched at that.

The Outer Gates were... they were the boundary between reality and... the Outside. They were way, way out in far Nevernever. Beyond was Outside, elemental chaos, beyond creation. The things in there were the Outsiders. Their hunger was eternal; their desire was to devour all of reality, mortal and otherwise.

It was no coincidence that the Outer Gates were under attack now.

Ethniu had to be in league with the Outsiders.

That meant a few powerful entities thought the Accorded nations had to be destroyed. BlackSky was right, this was a Declaration of War, perhaps more broad in scope than even she had implied.

Few in the room got what Mab was saying, but those who could translate her statement knew it very clearly. Vadderung, Ferrovax, the Senior Council, Etri and a couple others looked as queasy as I felt.

They had to understand, what was at cost here.

Clearly, so did someone else. BlackSky strode forward. Her dark gown almost turning to its full colors even with my spell.

Mab concluded her quick request to Fix, the Summer Knight, to warn Titania Queen of Summer of the situation.

As Fix bowed and withdrew, Mab turned to BlackSky. There was... something to her eyes.

"Ah, apologies for not getting to our newest, member," Marcone paused and nodded to River Shoulders. "Signed member, I should say. Do not worry, I fully intend to endorse your people's petition into the Accords."

"As do I," BlackSky stated.

"Imperatrix. This is not your world, but you are a signatory."

"My Granddaughter also styles herself as the protector of this city does she not?"

Marcone twisted his face. "Indeed."

"If I may ask, Queen Mab, where is the Winter Knight?" Ebenezar's tone was clam and respectful. Mab did not react well to aggression nor weakness.

"She was last seen consorting with Ms. Raith," Mab's tone was offhand.

"When I was last informed, they were organizing and procuring assets that may prove critical in defense of the city," BlackSky added.

I frowned. Did she know I was going to my island? Both to stabilize and secure Thomas and to gather powerful artifacts. There were things there, things I had burgled from Hades' vault that...

Deamonreach was also a prison for powerful supernatural entities. That was a secret few knew. I was its Warden. I was not sure if I could get Ehtniu close enough or if I was strong enough to defeat her, but.... that was an option.

How much did BlackSky know? And how much was her guessing that I, as a wizard, would be gathering such things.

Either way, both BlackSky and Mab knew I was hear. Hence both the Queen and Empress' carefully phrased sentences.

Ebenezar's expression hardened. "Ma'am, Ma'am, with respect. I will need to coordinate with... her, the sooner the better."

Mab gave him a cool gaze. "Provided her Grandmother had no duties for her, I will send her to you."

"Excellent that we have cleared that up," Marcone's tone was dry. "Imperatrix? I dare not presume, but you and your Daughters have been working your own plans. Would you care to indulge in sharing?"

BlackSky held up a finger. "A moment's indulgence please."

Perplexed silence grew in the room. Nearly a minute passed.

And then Vadderung, Mab, and Ferrovax all looked to the sky and then to my grandmother. I could see a flashes up through the hole in the ceiling. And I could feel something like a ripping or popping but magnified and then blurred by distance.

There were boot-falls as one of Marcone's men ran into the Hall. He was gasping, at his side was a Sidhe of Summer. The fae noble looked as shocked as Marcone's mercenary. Both talked about how the sky opened up and hundreds of airships of varying sizes suddenly appeared in a flash. Many were... only a few hundred feet long, but in the mercenary's estimation there had to be dozens at least a thousand feet long.

They were illuminated just long enough for the fae, who had better eyes to declare that demonic forms flew out of each and every one, their broad wings having them circle the great ships as they turned dark and moved in near-silent formation.

The room's entire attention was upon BlackSky.

And the demon empress smiled. "Accorded Nations, if you'll bear with me, I shall explain what forces I shall contribute."

+++++++++


I had gotten used to the hall falling silent in shock. Mira and AshRain had gotten even more busy, as were the other daughters, but their tones were hushed. And they seemed to be talking with whoever was on the airships.

"Imperatrix, I trust these are your forces," Marcone said in the casual tone he had managed this whole evening.

"Apologies for the delay in their arrival, there was... interference on getting them through. Thankfully my daughter was able to project a beacon for them to lock onto."

"It would seem that we are not the only ones who intend to close the Ways into the city," Vadderung said. He gave BlackSky a one-eyed gaze. He was not surprised by this. But there was.... concern.

"You said you would explain?" Ebenezar gave her a gimlet look.

BlackSky's smile was broad. "I did. I did not want to bear false hope... if they could not arrive, but they are here."

She looked around the room and caught everyone's eye before ending on Vadderung, Marcone, and finally Mab.

"Escorting is Task Force Nibelung consisting: of the Heavy Carrier HFV Valhalla, the Battlecruiser, HFV DarkStar, and various cruisers, destroyers, light carriers, corvettes, patrol boats, and fleet screen."

An incredulity spread among the room. Not that they disbelieved her statement, but that... the Accorded nations were supernatural nations. But many were , with few exceptions, small in population. And even master craftsmen like the Svartalves were not as big into mass production.

The Fae courts of Summer and, especially, Winter were different. They had large populations, and large standing armies. Winter's forces were massive, but they were tied up at the Gates. That said for all their power. Winter did not have carriers.

Vadderung and Mab were not among the confused in the audience. However, Vadderung was a bit taken aback by the Valhalla. I suppose it was for the best that grandmother brought that ship instead of her sister ship the Avalon.

From his raised eyebrow, I thought he was flattered.

For the others, ironically their experience in carriers and Battlecruisers came from mortal means. They had no idea about Ritual Plate, or the magical Fujiwara Aerial Torpedo.

However, some, such as Etri and Ebenezar seemed to be concerned at the name of DarkStar.

Not for my older sister's actions here a few months back. But for the story of DarkStar. The legend of what BlackSky did to House Vephar to avenge her. And here was BlackSky with a warship named after that lost granddaughter.

Ever since the Invasion, many Household Fleet vessels bore the memorial name. Though the current Kanabo Class Torpedo Battlecruiser was the last named before my sister was rediscovered.

Still, it was a fitting name for that crazy redhead. The Kanabo Class is more agile than the lumbering battleships, and still has well over a hundred Torpedoes and a squadron of Torpedo Boats or since they were flying were they Bombers? There were warships with more Torpedoes, and ones with more Torpedo Boats, but few with the relative agility and speed.

"That is a generous contribution," Wizard Cristos allowed. "Air support is a critical asset in battle, and perhaps this can help our mobility issue."

"True," BlackSky agreed. "But Nibelung is an escort force. Their role is to help protect the Emurian Sixth Landing Fleet. Though that I bring you Corpus Incursio Reliance,"

She gave a small chuckle. Latin was the official language of the White Council, and was spoken by many of the other Accorded Nations. And Silvan Latin was close enough to the variants for them to translate the bellicose term: Invasion, or Incursion, Corps.

"I bring six Legions. Four infantry. Two armored. And their supporting artillery, Ritual Plate, transports, and landing craft." BlackSky gave a pause and tilted her head to Mab and Marcone and Vadderung. "That is if you'll take my help."

LaChaise managed to find his voice. "You brought armor."

"Yes, yes, three dozen battle tanks, four dozen infantry fighting vehicles, six dozen light tanks," BlackSky paused. "And oh yes, over two dozen of some new infantry support guns."

The ghoul stared. "You have that all up on those... blimps?"

"The lookouts said there were hundred of them, and that many were over half a kilometer in length. I dare say that's enough to move literal legions of demonic troops," Marcone stated. Despite his outward calmness, I could see that he was a bit shocked. The mobster was as aware as anyone else that this was an invasion force. Maybe small to hold the city, but as a first wave?

"Forty thousand legionaries. Not counting support and Auxilia," BlackSky agreed. "My staff will explain our capabilities and how we can integrate our forces."

Which was more than her being polite. Marcone's, Lara's, and even Vadderung's men, might be in the far minority, but they had local knowledge. That information was invaluable in a battle.

Marcone gave a slight bow of his head to her and then gave everyone a sharp look. "Does anyone not want to accept House BlackSky's contribution?"

An unease fell upon the room. The Fomor were coming in a host capable of sacking Chicago. Even as crippled as the city was from Ethniu's hex, that had to be tens of thousands of Fomor and their levies and servitors about to swarm their way up from the water.

And now coming from the sky was a demonic invasion force. From a pure numbers game...

"Winter graciously accepts the help of its ally," Mab stated.

"Excellent," Grandmother's tone was dry, as if there could be no other choice.

Ferovaxx exhaled but kept his peace.

"Is it still hopeless LaChaise? I said we have Courage, skill, and will." Marcone glared at him.

The ghoul huffed. "And what of that Eye of hers? You saw what it did."

"The Eye of Balor," Etri said in a low hush. "It is a weapon of extreme power. In her hands it will cause mass destruction. It is a concentrated malevolence that will unmake. Combined with titanic-bronze, and her own abilities, Ethniu will be extremely difficult to stop."

"Another thing to consider and overcome. We have clever people and stock of our assets," Marcone stated.

"My troops are about ready to deploy, I will speak to them before they drop," BlackSky stated.

More confused silence went in the room as the demons immediately busied themselves. They had restored communications and got into contact with the fleet. The other Librarians had split up and were talking with the other Accorded Powers. A few guards and one of my aunts left the room and went up to the roof.

Even Mira who stood still and flicked her fingers with a very far-away look.

Among the non-demons, there was a sense that the world was not operating the way they had expected it to.

I had seen the expression multiple times, mostly on vanilla mortals getting their first, normally horrifying, exposure to the supernatural world. Seeing the leaders of the Accorded Nations having such a reaction was...

Understandable to be honest.

I knew some small bit about the Fleet and Legions. And had seen at least some of their units, if basically just a capital garrison force. Sure, I had seen First Home Fleet and other assets in the sky above Silvana.

And even I was a bit shocked. A force like this...

Many of the supernatural leaders in this room looked like they were afraid they were going to face an invasion on two fronts.

"Imperatrix, we are connected; all Fleet units reporting," Mira said as she lifted her hands as if to frame BlackSky between her thumbs and finger tips. "Transmitting... now."

BlackSky shifted her stance. Looking every bit the regal, imposing demon empress.

She stood such that Mab, Marcone, Vadderung, and Summer were behind her. Her black gown had gained some silver thread and she wore a red gem at her neck.

"Corpus Incursio Reliance, Emurian Sixth Landing Fleet, Task Force Nibelung," she announced, her voice strong, carrying to the heavens. Where before she had spoken with a total confidence, now she projected.

I noticed she was still speaking in English. Maybe Mira was translating for her, maybe the Legions could understand. Maybe Mira was adding subtitles.

"We are going into Chicago to protect, not to conquer. We will not fly our Imperial Banner in their city."

Her gaze swept the room, swept her fleet. I was almost pinned as I got a brief wash of her attention, and the potion that kept me beneath notice almost failed. In a way it was worse than Ethniu, for all her power she saw me as a bug and dismissed me.

BlackSky expected me to rise to the occasion. To be vital tonight.

Her tone sharpened. "Now, there are some who are alive in this moment who will not be alive shortly. Those of you who do not wish drop to the surface, we will not send them."

"As for the others, I expect you to make the enemy regret ever crawling up the beach!" She clenched a fist. There was no spark of flame, no flash of power. Just her will.

"Wipe them out if that is what they chose. If you are ferocious in battle remember to be magnanimous in victory."

Her tone sobered. "For a young people, Americas have more than their share of history. They are the custodians of the same Roman civilization, the same wisdom as ours. In two centuries, they went from a colonial backwater to a super power. You tread lightly here. We are here to help them fight a foreign invader."

Her lips quirked and she seemed to take in the Accorded Nations. "You will have to go a long way to find a more tenacious people. They are not helpless, and they are not without allies. You will be shamed by the sacrifices they will make to protect their loved ones. Their generosity when they have nothing puts us to shame.

"Do not treat them as refuges in their own country!" Her eyes were hard, adamantine, brokering no dissent.

Marcone almost bowed his head at that.

"When you find causalities of this war, remember when the citizens of this city got into bed, they did not plan to die this night. You will treat them with dignity in death. If you must bury, bury with due reverence, and properly mark their graves."

Mab's expression flickered a bit and Marcone looked thoughtful.

"The Fomor, the Mad Titan, will not grant you the same courtesy. Their aim is slaughter. Every last woman, man, and child. This cannot be allowed to pass. We are here to support the UnSeelie Accords; we are here because my granddaughter, Dame BlackStone has called for aide; we are here because it is right.

"The Fomor have abducted and killed in the shadows for years, now they think they can attack in the open, that they can sack a city, all without consequence." BlackSky grinned flashing her teeth to the waiting Legions.

"They have no idea the Hell that is to rain upon them." Her voice was calm, but there was steel there.

I frowned. I had read the history, some of it, and the legends, some of those of BlackSky...
I understood why she was more than willing to take Ethniu and Corb's insults. She was not dismissive of their power, but while they were belittling her, she was studying them.

She had prepared a counter to their betrayal.

Vadderung's grin looked wolfish. I was certain that he had an idea as to what was coming. It turns out he did. He was about the only one who knew what was coming. Who suspected that House BlackSky would bring more than one Task Force.

I had seen the maps full of arrows and diagrams. Ones that in retrospect had been left for my benefit. Again, not the first time someone had used that gambit for me.

I knew no plan survived contact with the enemy. I doubted when my paranoid Grandmother and her people suspected betrayal on the Fomor that they had planed for Ethniu and the Eye, but they had planed to fight the Fomor. And probably a bunch of other powers, but it was the Fomor did not have a blatant history of treachery.

And now all the sneaking and "recon" my sisters and Mira and others had done in Chicago all made sense. House BlackSky was learning, getting the measure of their potential enemies, preparing.

They still had yet to actually fight the Fomor, but at least they had considered the question. That was more than the Fomor had done, who I doubted even knew what a BlackSkyvian Legion was.

Ethniu and Corb were utterly dismissive of BlackSky when they made their entrance, and I know understood why my grandmother took their venom with such unflappable grace.

I could imagine Cohorts, Centuries, thousands of succubae in their uniforms, putting on their armor watching the display of BlackSky, their pulse quickening as they heard her. Pausing in their assembling and checking of equipment and munitions as they boarded the swarms of waiting landing craft.

"It remains my foremost intention to bring every one of you alive, but there may be those among us who will not see the end of this night. And we will we send them up to their ships for burial on the homeplane, but there will be no time for sorrow. We will grieve for them later. This I swear."

A bit of fear went up on the fleet, I knew even the most experienced would have fought in countless battles, but still a deployment on this scale, on a new world, there was trepidation, and the desire to not disappoint. The Fomor was an untested enemy. Ethniu an unexpected rival, the Eye an incomprehensible weapon.

They saw this as my city, as Dame BlackStone's and they were here for me, because these people were dear to me. My eyes widened as I realized this was not my imagination. I was just as much on this call as every other succubus in the Fleet and Legions.

BlackSky's tone was cold. "The enemy should be in no doubt that we are their ruination, and we have joined the other defenders of this city to bring about their rightful destruction. But remember, it is a big step to take another life, it is not to be done lightly." She exhaled.

"I know of women who have taken life needlessly in other conflicts; I can assure you they live with the Mark of Cain upon them. We fight in a city, a city full of people who wanted no part of this war. I know your Mothers won't want you to let them down."

"We will stop a mad god, destroy her army of monsters, go home safely, and leave Chicago a better place for us having been here."

I could fee the full measure of her power going through Mira and up to the fleet.

"Good Luck. Commence Drop." BlackSky ordered before the connection severed with Mira's shoulders slumping. For a moment I got the mental feedback of dozens and dozens of their fancy VTOLs, of their dropships, launching: all sorts of heavy equipment and troops descending into the night sky.

BlackSky stepped to her and put a hand on Mira's arm. "Thank you. Come, we have a battle to attend to," she said as she turned to AshRain.

I then managed to pull myself out of the room. I now had even more reason to get my brother out of this mess and go to my spooky island and retrieve those holy weapons.

Damn, crazy demons.


End opener.

And this is just the start of the "Battle of Chicago" project.
I've got ~40,000 words written on it so far. And when it gets more to it. It will be its own thread.

But since this segment was the Side B of the previous Side Story I figured it would be good to show *why* Tauria was part of a force that was invading Chicago.

 

We've now got more art of Tauria.


This time she's giving a presentation to the most experienced member of her Flight: Volantes Centurion GreyDawn (screen left) and her commander Prefect Volantes Centurion Artemis Magnus Quirinus (screen right).


What is she presenting on? It looks like some part of Ritual Plate. Maybe it was her trying to convince the Squardon to switch over to all Polyxo Advanced Multi Roles, or maybe she's just being critical of "boob armor".



Full size.

(By the excellent Daywalkerrl link to artist's DA page possible NSFW content on it. )

Chapter 12 is now at 10,000 words and I hope to have it up soon.

 

Not one Step Further

So, given the previous two snippits were at the first of April and March.... I figured I could go for another.
Though.... we may be pushing the limit.

This is set futher into the whole Battle of Chicago.

And this time the POV is from a Household Fleet Telephe pilot
+++

Not one Step Further

The Titan was impatient.

She had grown tired of harassing attacks by the Legions and the systematic destruction of their scouts and Huntsmen. Probes had been repulsed and our forces had been able to land in good order.

Supposedly a band of Jotun had been routed by a Troop of Vestal Light tanks reinforced the Einherjar, 2 Senior Wizards, and Dame BlackStone. A human cemetery had been hit by a barrage from an entire artillery maniple after necromancy was discovered and Praetor DawnStrike assaulted it with a group of Broadcast Recon, and again Dame BlackStone was there.

As an Avalon class Heavy Carrier the HFV Valhalla held an entire Ritual Plate Group, nearly four hundred pilots. Including the Countess' Hellions, who were good enough Pilots for Legionaries.

We were the 6th Squadron of the 4th Wing of the 23rd Air Group in First Home Fleet. My Zephyr pushed me forward as my armored wings trimmed back. Scanning the ground that scrolled below us, I saw flickering fires and dark streets.

Human cities were not normally this dark. The Titan had changed that. All the power systems, electrical and magical had been destroyed in the Titan's first strike. Though with her own forces in the city, she seemed loath to repeat that tactic.

Along with our sisters of the 5th Squadron and the 8th Squadron of the 3rd Wing, we bore stolid Telephe Pattern suits. It was a legion joke that the Telephe had the best bodices of any Ritual Plate and the second most complimentary hip armor, especially the bomber variant.

The Telephe was less nimble than the Harmonia air superiority suit, but more agile than the Sarpedona ground support model which was about as close to a brawler as a high-speed enchanted armored suit could be.

Though tonight everyone not protecting fleet assets or escorting landing craft was in a ground support role. The War College Boffins and prim Librarians were not willing to write off the Enemy's anti-air capabilities. Enough of Fomor casters had ranged capabilities that could take out a suit that got too close or too slow.

And the Fomor started out the battle with an impressive number of small, but lethal squid-like fliers but, according to rumor, Dame BlackStone had rallied her own air troops to take them out. Which was mighty convenient if true.

Either way, the Boffins were only willing to strip down the fleet's protective squadrons so much to increase our ground support. There was a chance the Fomor had some sort of anti-air capability and our ships would be very vulnerable without their fighter screens.

In any case, the somewhat more lumbering Sarpedona were more than earning their keep in helping Infantry Cohorts pound Fomor ground positions. Again the Legionary Fliers were earning their keep.

In all honesty, our Telephe Ritual Plate was a heavier version of the Harmonia with elements of the Polydora all-arounder. Built with more warding and a stronger set of enchantments to have more forward thrust from the Zephyr and an increased power capacity for the evocation Lances, the Telephe was the primary long ranged strike platform.

Despite all that, we Telephe were not idle. The enemy had plenty of high-value targets: logistical hubs, command posts, arcanist spell-slingers, or simply troop concentrations that were valuable enough to warrant strafing by a strike squadron, but not valuable enough to get a Torpedo lobbed at them. Even a bombardment flotilla could run empty if the cruisers and torpedo bombers gave enough fire missions.

Our Squadron was currently circling in a large oval circuit midway between the city and the Valhalla as a ready deployment. The Valhalla was positioned well inland of the burning remains of a major airfield. A large number of the local's aircraft had gone down when the Titan had crippled the city's systems. It was harrowing to see so many large fuselages burning. Intact they must have been elegant, if brutishly large, planes.

Apparently, spare landing craft from the Valhalla and her escort ships were rendering aid, and dropping a couple engineering centuries.

Last we heard, the casters were trying to get some of the runways cleared. Either as a position in case our assets needed to land, or as a base for local reinforcements. We didn't know which way it would go. Rumor was that the indigenous fixed wing assets were incoming and Flight Ops was already coordinating.

Of the 12 of us in the Squadron, myself, Valerie, and Celeste were fitted with Gorgon scrying rigs. The joke was, since we had the largest horns, it fell on us to bear the burden of the enhanced sensor suites that clasped over our helmets and faceplates with extendable antennae and other enchantments.

In all seriousness, doctrine was to have one member of each Flight setup with Gorgon rigs. That was one thing I agreed with that bloodthirsty Legion Countess, the brass horns were dragging their hooves on pushing the next upgrade of our scrying systems. Her Demi-wing had already launched and there were rumors she was in the city's university district doing some sort of skullduggery with Broadcast Recon.

Still I made sure to make the most of our capabilities.

I had zoomed in on the dark street below, filling part of my helmet display. The eerie light that flickered closer to the shore and the low clouds of smoke had started to drift over. Fires from the airport were coming in from the other direction. Cars littered the road, so it had not been that full when the Titan released her pulse attack. I idly confirmed, that my scrying telemetry was being sent back to the Valhalla. While what I was looking at now did not seem to be any tactical value, it was good to confirm the system was working. And who knew what those clever girls could come up with.

The Gorgon's audio pickups were not perfect but it was enough to confirm the road below us was silent. The main noise was the thunder-like cracks of artillery towards the heart of the city.

That thought chilled me. That was a lot of heavy ordnance being used in a densely populated area. On the other hand we were a lot of heavy ordnance, and we had gone on three strike missions already with our suits just being refueled and rearmed.

My attention went up to the partial cloud cover. In the dark they were sullen shapes that reflected the fires beneath them and combined with the drifts of ash made it obvious how some of the Imperatrix's Daughters earned their names. My helmet Display helpfully gave an overlay of the various vessels.

The Flight Leader had more powerful, and difficult to control, Zephyr for greater maneuverability. Primus GreenBlade was not quite as agile as a Harmonia dancer, but she could take out anyone who jumped us before they lived long enough to tell the difference. And the remaining two Flight members Clarissa and Felicity carried extra lance batteries, having two more of the armored conformal flasks with their dense arrays of sullen, runes along their torsos. The rest of us only had four. Those pods contributed to the bodice comments Telephe Ritual Plate earned.

I exhaled and debated taking a sip on my drinking tube. The chatter from my Flight was subdued. We were thinking it would not be long before we were called to help put out some brush fire. Though the Fomor was starting to learn that congregating large numbers would start a timer before something heavy was set their way.

Instead, we were to be sent to strike the most High Value of targets.

++++

We had expected the Titan to attack the Svartalfheim embassy. It was a fixed position closer to the Lake and thus to the Fomor's main body, their lines of communication, and supply. It was also where the artillery batteries that had shelled the Fomor's beach landings was positioned.

The Embassy formed a lynchpin to much of the East-West defensive line. With enough defense in depth, it served as a landing zone for our largest transports ever since the initial drop. Meaning the embassy had been reinforced by many flights of Pugio VTOLs filled with armored vehicles, munitions, supplies, and Tormentas of artillery.

There were at least 2 reinforced Arachne batteries at the Embassy. They were serving as one of the main fire-support reserves. Unlike the artillery units with the Cohorts closer to the front, which had to constantly change position, these could provide persistent support and had a greater number of tubes to call upon. And since they were not moving they could have a greater number of shells to call upon.

But with the strategic risk of providing a centralized, mostly fixed asset. Despite assurances from the boffins to a lack of Fomor capability, counter battery fire was an evergreen concern.

The grapevine that quietly chattered through our dispatchers in Flight Ops back on the Valhalla even whispered a few Torpedo ground launchers might have been deployed. Which seemed an odd spending of cargo capacity, but that was the rumor.

Regardless, no sensible commander would push through and leave a fortified position like that in her rear. As long as the Embassy stood, it was a prickly firebase that could hit the flank and rear of the Fomor lines as they advanced southward and westward.

Thus there were mutters when the calm voice of the too young sounding Flight Ops in our ears informed us that the Titan came with a Fomor Host of at least 7 unruly cohorts. Though there were 5 more immediately behind that reserve, bringing to a reinforced legion strength.

We had expected her to be at the front of an attack. But not quite the target she had picked.

In the Imperatrix's name, we had fought enough House wars to guess the overall strategy. The Fomor had numbers. They had ground troops, They even had an impressive number of combat casters, about a Mage Company in support. But without the Titan they had a severe deficiency in heavy ordnance.

The Boffins, Librarians, and Legates wanted her to take the Field.

And they got their wish, but war is a Democracy, the enemy gets a vote.

I exhaled and glanced over the Display projected from my eye-lenses. Systems, enchantments, and spirits were nominal. Power was good and the Flasks for my Lances were steady.

A simple chime went off on our com channel; that indicated deployment orders, and the young Flight Coordinator started talking in a crisp, calm official voice that was far from the more openly playful tone she used when giving gossip.

Instead of hitting the prepared lines of the Embassy, the Titan was attacking from the North on the western part of our lines, far from the lake.

Her target, the 12th Legion Severitas which had been attempting to flank around and contain the Fomor's inland, and possibly northern, expansion.

The too calm, too young-sounding, she was probably only a few years out of the academy, dispatcher directed our squadron. Of course she was calm, her position was somewhere deep inside the Valhalla's Combat Center.

It sounded like the 12th Legion's Sarpedona suits were providing airborne intelligence, unless there was a Occultia Surveillance RP Suit observing. With more emphasis on veils and an Euryale Scrying system that put my Gorgon rig to shame, and less on weapons, the Occultia was one of the most expensive Ritual Plate patterns.

Which was saying something.

Moreso it took a special kind of mind, above and beyond being able to bond and manage the Zeprhy to handle, organize, and broadcast, the torrent of far-roaming data the Euryale Scrying system took in.

I could find targets, enemies, ground conditions and transmit those to the rest of my Flight, or squadron if need be, even back to the Valhalla, but that was an augment to my strike role. For an Occultia Pilot, her job was to take in the entirety of a front and pre-process the results tagging things of interest to give the Boffins a head start. It was nearly a magnitude of difference in the level of data collected.

Squadron commander Prefect Vorenta gave the order, and we dropped in altitude and started accelerating. After leveling off at a building-buzzing height, we soon surmounted the sound barrier. Other squadrons followed but I concentrated on the dispersal of ours and terrain and target tracking ahead for my Flight.

The four of us were in a diamond formation with Primus GreenBlade in the lead, myself following at her left, and Felicity and Kelly with their extra evocation capacity were on right and aft position respectively.

We were given a lopsided trajectory to follow that would allow for us to accelerate and come in at different angles and at nearly the same time.

Already supersonic, our arc would have us close in, myself, Valerie, and Celeste would confirm the targeting data, that is the Titan. We would fire our Lances and then flicking in sharp turns we would race past, our course never directly passing overhead of the target.

We could then regroup and make for another acceleration, lock-on, attack, and turning run.

Or that was the plan.

Streets, buildings, and blocks raced past us as we closed in. Operationally fighting with our air assets this close to the city was almost like fighting in a water closet. You had to be careful with your wings when you turned.

All of us had a scrying setup that gave a bit of distorted vision with the forward targets looking closer than they really were. However the Gorgon rig made it worst for me.

And that was why within less than a minute of getting our strike orders, I caught sight of a Titan taking on a Legion.

Legions do not fight in neat rows and blocks. That's just for the parade ground. House wars involve combating other succubae. Organized militaries where the basic hoof-slogger has flight, some regeneration, and at least a basic skill in magic. Not to mention that every House that can defend its territory has some form of heavy weapons, indirect fire, and air power.

Thus forces have to be dispersed when possible. Urban combat is worse than an open-field battle in that regard, given how buildings limit avenues of movement and the terrain can be even more broken and littered with choke points.

Thus it was not easy to estimate how much of the 12th Legion remained.

Furthest away from us were the shredded remains of what might have been Infantry Cohort or at least enough Nymphs, Mules and bodies. More than the distance, it was hard to get an idea as an entire group of intersections and surrounding buildings had been blown apart. Not to mention the Fomor was trying to advance, with great difficulty, through that area.

Time spiraled down. My attention went ahead of the beaten zone and spotted the Titan herself.

She was hard to miss.

Head and shoulders taller than anyone else even at this distance her beauty shone in the night. With skin of gleaming bronze, her silver hair flew behind her. Ethniu strode as demon empress, a goddess of old. One eye glinted emerald, while the other was swollen and burned an angry red.

The Eye.

The Eye of Balor.

My suit automatically tripped its heating elements to reduce the chill and my Zephyr picked up on my agitation and my thrust increased a bit as our formation kicked in that much more acceleration.

It helped distract some of my attention from what the Titan was doing.

++++

"Everyone thank Valentina for pointing her out," our Flight leader GreenBlade laconically said as I fed the targeting data to the rest of my Flight. "Lock target; Charge Lances."

I extended my arms as the runes inscribed on my gauntlets flared as the accumulators took in the power from evocation capacitors, the 'flasks" stored around my waist in armored conformal bands that made up my "bodice armor".

Massive, devastating energy transferred from their relatively stable and quiescent storage accumulators to the Lances themselves. In a few seconds they would be a roiling, ardently-flensing power ready to fire.

The Titan had support, perhaps a Century or two of the long-limbed yet bulky warriors the Fomor seemed to like and a squad or two of disturbingly-amphibious-seeming casters.

But she seemed to ignore her escort as she strode forward.

Minerva rotary cannons were not intended for continuous long-term fire. It used too much ammunition and it was better to hit a target then move to the next. Instead I saw no less than a dozen of those guns, on Scorpions, Mules, Nymphs, and Vestals lancing out constant streams of fire.

The First Cohort was double-size and populated by veterans. They seemed to have... at least the bulk of their strength. For now.

Vel missiles launched, mortars fired. Ground attack Ritual Plate circled about and lighting and fire burst out. Not to mention hundreds of rifles and dozens of machine guns. Most of the fire was controlled.

However, most of the time she was too close to a Legionary Position for Arachne to hit her. And it did nothing to slow her.

A cynic might point out that being taken out by our own artillery might be a kinder fate for the Legionaries. The titan was not always quick with her kills. Various golems had been used in a screening role as the remove combat vehicles could be more readily sacrificed and there were nearly drifts of mangled Scorpions.

I focused on keeping the targeting info up to date and sending it to my Flight and the rest of the Squadron.

"Mark the bitch, hit her, then turn. We're the cavalry, we'll get another run" GreenBlade assured.

Our of seeming frustration, Legionaries had adjusted targets and savaged her escorts. The casters tried to put up shields, their heavies tried to take some cover, but a level of fire that their Empress could laugh off scythed through them. More managed to brave the lines in an attempt to support their liege, only to be cut down.

At this airspeed the telescopic view from of the Gorgon rig was more like a collection of snapshots. The imagery rapidly flashed by each a snapshot, each a moment in the battle. It would overwhelm, or at least distract a normal pilot, but we were trained to take in, compartmentalize, and separate vast data.

Maybe not as much as an Occultia Pilot, but unlike them, we were expected to gather intelligence and fight.

The Centuries withdrew by fire team. Their mules and Scorpions were often used to cover their retreats, the remote-operated vehicles being far easier to sacrifice.

She advanced. She could only be in one place, so most got out before she could reach them. The only time she ran was when she sprinted to try and catch any groups that tried to flee instead of fighting to the last.

The Eye fired in angry beams that burned to look at, even through the Gorgon feed. Wards on one Vestal Scout tank held for a moment before popping like a soap bubble and burning through armor. The beam cut through the heavy smoke the vehicles grenades were popping off which at least got time. Releasing their own smoke, the other two in the formation had quickly reversed to behind a building and managed to continue their harassing fire.

The dispersed formation kept it from being a total slaughter. Scout Tanks, Nymphs, Legionaries, even Umbra Medium VTOLs burned. But they were too far apart, the defense in depth was too deep for any attack to kill all of the First Cohort.

The vast majority of the Legionaries managed to withdraw. It was the unlucky or the slower or the brave who got hit. They might not be able to stop the Titan, but she was not able to kill with impunity.

The heaters in my suit kicked on a bit more as we closed in. The next few seconds added more detail to the battlefield. I hoped the bowfins were learning from this. I hoped they could separate the horror and make tactical choices.

We had fought powerful beings before. We were part of a strike that took out the 6th Daughter of Grand Admiral Trosier. However, the attack against Virgox the 2nd Eldest daughter of Luxon was less successful. I had personally struck a blow to her, but she did not fall that day.

But this was an inexorable power. The blood and screams were more than even the most intense cauldron, and it was not even, yet, a rout.

"Confirm Lances are free and charged. Max power," GreenBlade stated, her voice utterly professional. Only a few seconds had passed since her last statement. The intention was to use the majority of our power in one Lance strike.

The Titan was also just the center of the battle. The 12th Legion Severitas had 7 more cohorts and they flanked the flagging First Cohort. These were Cohorts of high mobility on Medium VTOLs, more Infantry Cohorts, another light Tank Cohort, and a headquarters unit with artillery and Ritual Plate and other assets.

For the enemy, spreading behind the titan was the Fomor host, roughly 7 Cohorts. Various warbands of human, Fomorian, tentacular, ape-like and various other horrors were pressing. They had more Cohorts of reinforcements coming aright behind them

The battlefield was a quick teacher and they had learned to not group up. While their Mistress could kill any in her sight, she was in only one spot.

Naturally, the Fomor tried to follow behind her.

Across the grave of the luckless Infantry Cohort Ethniu first destroyed, the Fomor attempted an advance.

I say attempted because behind the Titan was a curtain barrage of no less than 2 Arachne batteries. The beaten ground destroyed the dead of that Cohort, but it also thinned out and shattered the Fomor attempting to back up the titan.

This made it so they have to brave that line and cross the barrage and accept the mass casualties, or flank and hit Cohorts that were not being ravaged by the Eye, or wait for the artillery to run out of munitions, or for the Titan to get to those guns.

A two-tone warning chine came over our comm channel.

We had fought powerful beings before, and their main limit was they could only be in one place, they needed conventional troops to exploit breakouts and weaknesses.

The First Cohort of the 12th Legion was dying by inches but it was costing the Fomor for every step.

And then we came in range.

Maybe a minute had passed since the target disposition alert chimed on our communications channels.

My tail adjusted as I trimmed my wings back. Ethniu was terrible and mighty The Gorgon feed made it look like I could reach out and touch her.

And then I did.

The Runes on my gauntlets spilled out beyond my fists. The lenses to my helmet automatically dimmed.

Two blue-white beams of antic power stabbed out from me to the Titan. Each as thick around as my thigh, the lances were joined by the pair GreanBlade fired and four brighter, waist-thick beams Felicity and Kelly and their more powerful evocations had launched

But we were just 1 Flight, of 4 Squadrons.

Nearly a hundred blue-white lances of pulsing destructive power were slammed into the Titan. We came in at different angles and altitudes but our coordination, and training, made it so nearly all hit her, and at almost the exact time.

One moment the Titan stood there her armor shining and her silver hair flying behind her like a banner. She was mid-stride one foot up.

The next moment she was consumed by blue-white beams. Aimed at the right spot a Lance could take out a battleship. It could rend an enemy formation, spear reinforced bunkers. A dozen could overload airship-grade warding shields. And we hit her with a hundred Lances.

Each beam flickered out for less than a second but delivered enough energy to cover her in blinding light as the street boiled around her.

The beams that missed cut through the ground gouging trenches that radiated around her in a flaming starburst. There were a few burned out vehicles and even an overturned truck behind the Titan.

Our attack angles had been set so that any missed shots would hit the Fomor lines instead of ours. The handful of near misses from our attack rendered two Century's worth of Fomor supporting the Titan into smoking ruined meat. Some had used the vehicles to take cover. Some had held a bit further back and tried to use some of the smoldering buildings as cover.

The Lances burned through all of that.

The lucky ones were consumed into charred husks, the unlucky had only parts of their bodies hit by the Lances, leaving burning flailing remnants that slumped the ground.

The Titan herself staggered. Her upraised foot quickly went back and she stumbled as the Lance-light faded revealing metal skin that pinged and shimmered from the heat. An attack that had set the asphalt roadway and concrete sidewalks aflame left her form pristine, save for a drop of blood that trickled down one nostril.

"Break, break, break!" GreenBlade shouted. Zephyr shrieked as our Flights snapped in their turns and started accelerating away from the Titan.

+++

Screaming in affront, another few drops of blood trickling down from her nose, Ethniu raised her gaze. The Eye sliced through the sky.

The 12th Legion's Ground Support RP launched their own attack in an attempt to distract her and cover their infantry's withdrawal.

Our formations spread out and each Flight and took a different vector. The venomous hateful crimson beam scythed through us, as we maneuvered and jinked, but better a handful of Ritual Plate than entire Centuries.

My suit chilled as I and the other Gorgons fed telemetry to the Squadrons. The Eye's path of destruction was overloaded with a flared cone showing the areas of most risk.

There were a few screams on the line as some Pilots were unlucky enough to fall under her immediate gaze. To even see us at this distance in such an awful night showed impressive far-seeing as she tried to knock more of us out.

The beam might be all-powerful but we had fired at maximum range which meant the Eye had a massive half-hemisphere of sky to cover to get all of us. And with every moment we got further and further from her.

The Titan then whipped her head and the Eye flicked towards us.

My heart pounded. "Incoming," I intoned pinging the lower port octant the Eye's attack was coming from.

The Titan's gaze was not a flexed thing, she twitched and adjusted her gaze in response to our maneuvering. Zephyr flared and wings twisted.

I idly noticed the Arachne Artillery had started hitting her directly, but the Titan could not be dissuaded.

Kelly was still in the aft position of our dispersed formation. She suddenly pulled her wings in and dropped beneath the Eye its power just burning her tail. We has spread out so that the Titan should not be able to get all of us, and even if she could the other Flights would make it out.

Felicity followed and twisted but the Eye lifted and speared right through her.

Her scream was shortly lived as her flesh and armor cooked and the psychic backlash from her dying Zephyr hit us.

The imagery and sensations burned into my mind as I rolled over and pushed my Zephyr until the air spirits screamed. Flicking up a wing I rolled over and shifted.

The coldness of my suit suddenly turned to fire as my left wing caught the force of the Eye's Wrath. That entire side was baked and my arm blistered within the armor and the remaining two-thirds drained evocation flasks automatically discharged.

I screamed and the displays went off as my enchantments flicked and I started to fall.

Looking over I saw the Eyes' beam rise up attempting to go after GreenBlade. And then the flasks detonated.

They gave a couple flat thumps that knocked the air out of my chest. I tried to exhale and concentrated. My right arm went to my throat and flicked the armor under my pectoral to hit the manual restart.

The good news was that I could feel my Zephyrs had survived the hit.

There was a hum and the enchantments started to power back up. I concentrated on the spell and the growing line of runes at the bottom of my field of view.

Only then did I look back down to confirm how much altitude I still had.

The dark city rushed up.

Wincing I slowly spread my right wing and started to catch some air. Angling my tail to the left side kept me from entering a spin, but it would be enough to slow down.

Not with half of the joints to my left wing simply gone and the remaining membranes cut to ribbons. Fortunately, I was a Ritual Plate Pilot.

The first thing a pilot had to be able to do was bond with and direct air spirits.

And my Zephyr, while shaken, were alive.

After confirming that my collection of spirits could slow my airspeed I started to look for a landing spot.

Several buildings below me still stood. There was a variety of sizes. Alas I was a bit too far south of the lines and I could not see any friendly forces within range.

Upside, a hard restart was all my Gorgon rig needed to be restored.

Striking a balance between defensibility and observability and egress I quickly evaluated the available landing areas.

And I aimed for the largest flattest roof I could see.

Time was short, and my Zephyr were already bleeding off speed and helping my remaining wing nudge me along. They pushed to slow me down, but increasing thrust was another factor.

The mercantile building was between twenty and thirty stories and had a broad roof with several heating and cooling structures atop. To one side was a round VTOL pad marked with an H.

I ended up landing near the edge and my knees bent taking in the weight as I leaned forward.

Air blew around me and I exhaled. It took a moment to get used to the feeling of ground beneath my armored boots.

I focused on the emergency landing procedure. After checking my perimeter and seeing that I was secure or at least isolated I then took stock.

My wounds were not crippling; I could mostly use my left hand, but I was flight ineffective. Having only one wing did that And there was a fair bit of pain along my torso where I had an explosion go off near me.

Once I was as reasonably sure I was not bleeding anywhere under my armor, or at least not heavily bleeding, I took an injection from the suit's medical pack. The numbing from the targeted analgesics was distracting but far less than the flensed wing, sheared bones, and bruised ribs.

Physically I could be better, even after I regrew my wing, my suit would need to be fixed.

And of my suit, I had no evocation flasks for my Lances, but I had my suite of conventional close-in and stand-off weapons. The Gorgon rig was already functional and my Zephyr were present if upset.

I sipped some water from the drinking tube and snapped open my helmet. Cold, smoky air brushed my face and nostrils as I opened a thigh compartment and started munching on a ration bar.

The helmet had a nutrition tube too, but compared to that "broth" even the most worn old chocolate wafer bar or bland jerky was far more palatable. I chewed thoughtfully, crushing a sugared energy gem between my teeth, thankful my maintenance crew stocked the good stuff as I checked the rest of my suit's systems

The Ritual Plate looked worse than it really was. The outer armor was scorched and there were dents and gouges in the matt grey material and dark blue steel brushed filigree, but the enchantments were solid enough. The biggest problem was that it, and myself, were down a wing.

I was not mono-focused. Getting lost in a status display on the battlefield was an easy way to get killed. Fortunately, I was a skilled multi-tasker, even by Pilot standards. And that's when the trouble started. It was one thing to look out over the ashen, deadened cityscape.

It was another to let the sensation of millions of terrified minds. My hands clenched, armored gauntlets starting to power up as I flexed my knees, the suit responded to my greater tension and I exhaled. This city was insane. It was huge, without power, without magic. Plunged into a nightmare of an unexpected invasion.

I focused on the Gorgon's systems. I could control that feed. There was less... emotion. Less leakage from all the poor people dumped into a battle to the knife, a world of tooth and claw.

I swallowed my snack, took some more water, and looked at the next part of the check list.

All that was left was to check my communication array. I flipped the channel and sending a ping to my Flight Coordination I wondered if the rest of my Flight had made it...

My shoulders shook as I remembered Felicity's screams and relived the echoes of feeling her die. I exhaled. It was not the first time we had lost people. I concentrated. "This is Volantes Centurion Valentina Orbez, 6th Squadron, 4th Wing."

++++

This voice from Flight Ops sounded a lot older to my ear. "This is Valhalla Flight Control, we read you. Condition?"

"Grounded, medically stable, position reasonably secure," I stated as I scanned around the roofline. It couldn't have been more than half a minute since I was hit. The battle was still going on. RP Squadrons were crossing the sky.

"I'm reading that your Gorgon is functional; can you resume telemetry?" There was a pause and before I could answer she came with another question. " Valentina can you confirm your location?"

"Yes Valhalla Flight, sending telemetry now." I then read off some map coordinates based on the building I had landed on.

There was another pause. "Can you get eyes on the Titan?"

Well. So much for getting a Spatha dispatched to pick me up. Yes the local airspace might not be the most safe environment, but if the Titan could be avoided...

But no, I had a mission. "Affirmative," I replied

I crouched a bit further down and made my way further north on the roof. Key was to get a comprehensive view but not silhouette myself. I was high up, but anyone with the right eyes could see someone if they stood on the edge of a roofline.

The Titan was impossible to miss. I was closer than the majority of our strike mission, and I was relatively stationary. Getting a lock on a titanic figure in the midst of combat was trivial.

She had advanced maybe halfway down the block and was now midway between intersections. At the moment no one stood before her, which meant the rain of artillery and Ritual Plate had intensified. It was enough to have her put the Eye's gaze skyward, but she was still advancing, and our forces were pulling back mostly behind lines of concrete debris, burned-out vehicles, and shattered brickwork that had been piled up.

The Fomor behind her had tried to keep up with her but their effort was desultory. The retreating First Cohort had created a concavity in our lines. And beyond the Titan's spearhead they had been unable to advance on the flanks.

I automatically split my focus and had the Gorgon Rig gaze further afield. The Svartalfheim embassy was eastward closer to the lake. I could see the flash of artillery in maniple strength as 4 Arachne batteries rotated through targets. Something that had to have been a ground launch torpedo shot into the air, and was followed by a storm of smaller Vel Missiles.

Interesting. Were the Fomor marshaling their remaining air-assets? Beyond the Embassy, to the North and even closer to the lake was where we estimated the Fomor had their main reserves and logistics support.

It was certainly where they had made landfall, and had dedicated a lot of troops to securing a cordon and lines of communication back to the beach. They had expended a lot of manpower to try to brave the beaches and move equipment and supplies across that zone.

More of my focus returned to Ethniu

I could not be the only one with a visual on the Titan. I suspected that there was likely at least one Veiled Forward Recon team in a dedicated spotter role. And there had to be at least one Occultia Pilot up there. The Valhalla had an entire Stealth Surveillance Squadron. And one Flight of that were Occultia.

But, if we were all at different orientations, and different altitudes... then the War College boffins and Librarians could triangulate and cross-check our data.

The First Cohort was pulling back under cover of the Arcana Engineers setting up a ward and swelling up the breastworks raising the height of the stone cover. The Eye had a cooldown period, but that only bought time.

The Engineer's portable Wards were intricate, expensive bits of kit designed to provide protection from air assaults and artillery. They only delayed the Eye slightly before their warding shields failed, but it was more time.

Though, in all technicality, even the thickest earthen barrier the geomancers raised up was merely concealment and not cover. So, far nothing had been able to stop the Eye's power, only slow it down.

By then the Fomor were starting to catch up and the Titan resumed her advance.

She bounded atop the concrete rubble barricade as two Centuries pulled back while their Marius Mules on remote control with Minerva rotary guns opened up. It did little to slow her but it was enough to allow several squads of Alpinum in their ceramic armor to advance.

Assigned to the 12th by BlackSky herself, they were the Legate's personal guard and advanced troops. That the 12th's commander was not there, and instead the attack was being commented by a willowy-ripcord-thin, flat-eyed Tribune wielding an equally slender sword did not speak well for the Legate's current condition.

Seeing the troops, the Titan smiled, her ethereally beautiful features twisted in cruel pleasure. "Finally! Enough running! You half breeds are abandoned. This is not your-"

And then a Vestal scout tank's main guns hit her in the chest and neck.

She let out a howl of anger, more upset at being interrupted than for any impact of the enhanced armor-piercing rounds on titanic bronze. She then jumped down and raced through the withering fire of the Alpinum Guard from across the street. "Then die, you rude Swine!" the Titan screamed with such volume that I did not need my Gorgon rig to hear her.

"Keep focus," Flight Ops said in my ear.

And then in a teleport flash followed a blinding arc like the first rays of the rising sun shot across the titan and her supporters. As smaller flashes flared around her, a tall pale figure with glossy black hair, curling horns, gold wings, and a black armored gown slammed into the Titan at just the right angle to knock her back onto the barricade.

The imperious figure was slimmer than her mother, but retained much of her regal bearing as she took the Tribune's long sword. The steel lit up, the entire blade glowing with a bright golden light as the air around it shimmered with heat.

Behind the figure, the minor flashes had revealed the matt-black light-armored figures of the Broadcast Recon troops. who had teleported in with the Daughter.

Ethniu looked down at the demoness with mocking grin. "Finally. I thought your breed were nothing but cowards. Who stands before me?"

The black-haired demon gave a thin smile. "Praetor Peregrinus DawnStrike. Before your father imprisoned you, I was conquering worlds at Mother's side. This petty host, this tantrum, goes no further. You will not advance."

++++

Sizing up DawnStrike, the Titan laughed. "Bold words." And then the light of the Eye shot out.

Instead of consuming the Praetor, there was a golden flash as she swept her sword, stepping inside of the beam's arc. Sunlight lit up the battlefield like a barrage of star-shells and the Eye's wrathful crimson power gouged through the golden ward raised in the sword's wake.

But by then DawnStrike was past the attack.

The Titan turned her head and the Praetor continued to turn, to the larger woman's side and slashed up with the tip of the luminous incendiary blade.

Moving with an even quicker blinking speed, Ethniu still screamed as the empowered sword kissed the side of her hip, leaving a flaming line of bubbling blood.

"You!" she screamed.

"Ah, well I was told someone with sufficient divine, or infernal, power could wound you." DawnStrike gave a little salute with the sword. "Let us see which I am."

Behind the Praetor the First Cohort continued to... evacuate. Broadcast Recon troops that had arrived with DawnStrike were helping teleport others further out and rebuild lines. The barrages on the Fomor Cohorts intensified making sure no one could get to their Mistress. It was all a continuation of previous retreats, but with more resources and organization.

And with a Daughter taking up the full attention of the Titan.

Ethniu had screamed and pounced at DawnStrike, the sword almost opened up her arm but she turned nearly gabbed into the demoness the Eye burst into ravening light and -

DawnStrike vanished in a golden flash.

She reappeared behind the Titan and yanked her hair back and down and tried to spear through her neck with the sword tip.

The blade creased the Titan's neck as she twisted, her sliver hair trying to tear out of the Praetor's hands. Turning, the Titan crouched at the knees and grabbed one of DawnStrike's arms and twisted. The was a snapping sound as she tried to backhand her away.

Yelling, DawnStrike smashed the sword against the taller woman's face, on the side without the Eye of Balor. There was another sunburst and the newly half-blind Titan tried to grapple the shorter woman but there was another flash as she teleported away.

"Coward! You are all callow and craven!" Ethniu screamed, seemingly trying to sight with the Eye itself.

While snapping her arm back into place, DawnStrike appeared to her blind side and tried to stab through the Titan's torso. Her green, mundane, eye regained focus and Ethniu flickered back as the sword just missed her.

"You are too slow," the Titan crowed as she stomped forward. The Eye flashed again and DawnStrike dodged and brought up the blade's light.

This time the golden ward shattered and the sword was immolated, for a bare moment turning into a lightly enchanted Legate's blade before it boiled away.

As the Titan tried to grapple with her, DawnStrike's tail went up slicking long fingers for the taller woman's trouble. Claws extended and both hit as DawnStrike tried to go under the floating ribs on the back of side far from the Eye, and the Titan simply flicked her wrist, the blade of her hand slamming into the Praetor's torso,

A bit of blood sprayed out DawnStrike's lips as she teleported further back.

"You lack commitment. If you had stayed you could have cut me deeper." Ethniu smirked and rubbed the small scratches on her side.

"And where in your sad life of imprisonment did you learn that?" DawnStrike laughed.

Ethniu charged her and the Eye of Balor burned. DawnStrike managed to evade but I gasped as her right wing just barely avoided the blast. The Fomor cohort a block behind DawnStrike did not far so well.

"Do not lose contact with the Titan," Flight Ops ordered, her tone clipped and urgent over the transmission.

"Mother knows the depth of my commitment," the Praetor said as the Titan tried to close and land another blow with immense fists.

"Where is your precious Mother? She abandons you like this!" Ethniu kicked out and managed to connect and there was a crunch in DawnStrike's midsection. More blood came out as DawnStrike caught Ethniu's right wrist, twisted and, using her entire body, turned it over and bent her hand back. With a burst of strength that flashed golden light down the street, she snapped it.

Ethniu screamed and held the broken wrist.

"Pain is new to you. Is it not?" Gasping, DawnStrike smiled.

"You will suffer. I will wear you down and when you can't run, when you realize your precious Mother sent you out here to die, then you will have oblivion." The baleful gaze from Ethniu's green eye was almost as hateful and intense as from the Eye of Balor

Looking behind the Titan, confirming that the Legions had withdrawn, the Praetor laughed. "I pity you, you have no one behind you. No one to trust. So much pride that you have to do everything yourself."

Ethniu charged and the Eye flashed.

DawnStrike teleported away, and then a 3 tone chime came over my communications channel.

The one that meant incoming Torpedo strike.

+++

The Fujiwara Aerial Torpedo was one of the main forms of power projection in the Household Fleet. Squadrons of Mace Torpedo Destroyers guarded the troop and armor transports and fleet cargo ships. And every RP carrier larger than a Mellona Medium had at least a few Torpedoes.

But the bulk of those 2.7 ton, 26 foot, missiles were dedicated to fleet defense with some for ground support. Which in light of the Fomor's negligible airborne and anti-air assets meant those munitions were basically dead-weight.

And while most of the Valhalla's torpedoes were for Fleet Defense; as an Avalon class heavy carrier, she had 48 torpedoes. Which gave plenty of space for ground support and other strike assets. The Battlecruiser HFV DarkStar was also lurking about. It had participated in the initial shore bombardment and rumor was that the DarkStar was using its stock of Madhu's Trident aquatic torpedoes and compliment of Torpedo Boats/Bombers in an anti-submarine warfare role.

Not to mention Landing Fleet had a Bombardment Flotilla with 2 Maul torpedo Cruisers in the fleet, each with 40 torpedoes and a Pike Torpedo Boat Tender that carried half a squadron of the quick, lethal craft.

Part of the barrage was too fast to follow. Even the Gorgon rig had a hard time getting a visual lock on something with a terminal speed over thrice the speed of sound. I managed to get enough data to tentatively identify one set of torpedoes. The other set was traveling far slower and was easier to identify.

Four supersonic shipkillers detonated just above the Titan. The Ascalon was a standard dual-purpose 700 lb warhead designed to pierce capital ship wards and puncture armor. The alchemically treated explosives were lensed foreword into incendiary jets as the backwash from the torpedo's detonations leveled the city block around their impact site.

The Titan was consumed as massive explosions shot through her and turned the area she stood upon into a crumbling crater.

The other torpedoes were slower and instead of hitting one target spread out along the entire line of battle. The Gae Bulg was a nasty bit of ordnance. A subsonic Torpedo, it exchanged reduced range for increased payload capacity. Instead of a single warhead, it carried over 150, 2 lb barbed sub-munitions. Though that was only half of the anti-infantry damage. The bomblettes were released just Surtalogi fuel air torpedoes also detonated. in incendiary clouds.

Nearly two dozen of these ground support weapons fell along the Fomorian lines. Much of a cruiser's loadout. There were also Log Mor anti-vehicle torpedoes. Like the Gae Bulk, the Log Mor had a heavier payload, but instead of a mass of smaller bomblettes, it only released 2 dozen larger Plumbata penetrators. These were designed to pierce armored vehicles and had independent targeting.

The Fomor did not have any such assets. I supposed the Notus spirits guiding those munitions went for whatever large or high value targets they could hit with extreme overkill. And because the Fleet Ordnance Department were pyromaniacs, the Log Mor also had an incendiary over blast.

Dealing with mortars, artillery and Ritual Plate had given the Fomor some experience in the importance of dispersion and dealing with air attacks. But even an Arachne battery pummeling your lines is a pale comparison to a heavy Torpedo strike.

It was like watching a few grid squares on a tactical map being swept clean.

The street was utterly obliterated as the Fomorian host had its heart ripped out and most of its lines cut down. Their reserves, as those further away from our lines, got some of the worst of it and were hit by overlapping firestorms until a crater similar to the one that had buried the Titan had formed.

And then the 12th Legion's entire Arachne maniple resumed firing at the Fomor that had managed to survive the Torpedo bombardment and had decided to move in some way.

"COWARDS!" the Titan screamed as she clawed her way out of the crater. It looked like her wrist had healed. Once at the crater's lip, her eye swept in a low arc as she circled her gaze. The First Cohort had used DawnStike's fight to pull to a safe distance. They might not have been out of range of the Eye but they were out of Torpedo range.

The Fomor Host shattered. Some with maddened fury or bleak resignation tried to charge the 12th, but more simply fled. Both were hit by the might of a Legion with full support. Ritual Plate Squadrons took out Lance attacks on larger concentrations and Sarpedona used conventional evocations to burn the Fomor. The RP squadrons left the largest groups for the occasional Torpedo to neutralize.

The smart ones stayed put, or moved to the nearest cover and hunkered down.

I shivered and focused the telemetry on the Titan. But I wondered where DawnStrike had gone to. For that matter where was BlackSky?

The three tone notice chimed again.

"Face ME! You COWARDS!" The Titan's frustrated anger threatened to break the heavens. And then the Eye tried to track the sky, there was an explosion above her followed by an overlapping crescendo as more ordnance fell upon her.

Even if she could take out a Torpedo, it would be very unlikely she'd be able to hit a Mothership. Not only were our larger fleet assets kept at standoff range for that reason, but Torpedoes could be launched from Hasta Torpedo Bombers or the Kolibri Torpedo Corvette. Not to mention that the large aerial munitions could take an indirect path to their target with dog-legs and other evasions.

Each detonation was smaller but the Torpedoes were harder to track, these were the
Gungnir which was a stealthy shipkiller that came in under a powerful veil. That stealth capacity came at a great expense in components and took up mass, reducing the warhead size Maybe the Eye could see those coming in, maybe not.

They still hit the Titan.

Alongside those was a series of teleport flashes a bare handful of stories above her that immediacy tuned into explosions. The Hrunting was an even more expensive "shipkiller" that had a high-accuracy, short-range, one-shot teleportation enchantment. The fiscal expensive of this strike was breathtaking. The teleport runes inscribed into the torpedo's body allowed the weapon to simply avoid most of the target's defenses, and simply appear as close as possible, at full velocity.

For the Titan's face this was, in missile terms, right next to her face.

++++

The entire block was now a blasted moonscape resembling the more desolate parts of Lantia.

The Fomor had just lost roughly a Legion's worth in casualties, about seven thousand various troops. Maybe half were dead, but the survivors had lost all cohesion and organization as fighting formations. Most of them were wounded and showed. And if they did not move quickly they would not get the chance to get organized, or into cover.

I idly wondered how many Torpedoes the Fleet had left. This many war shots had to have at least dented our ground support capability. Even a Bombardment Flotilla would be rapidly breaking out reloads from their supporting cargo ships.

Though I supposed with a dearth of enemy air assets or capital vessels we had plenty of shipkillers to lob at the Titan.

It was massively expensive, but so were squadrons of Ritual Plate or Cohorts of Legionaries.

Ethniu stood at the bottom of an uneven crater marred by collapsed tunnels and conduits. Dirty water had begun to flood into it in sprays and gurgles

The Titan was incandescent with rage as she stomped and splashed out of the crater once again.

As she neared the lip she hesitated and for a moment I wondered if the Titan would take cover. Instead she stood up and, proud as could be, she regained purchase on what could generously be called "street level".

Which nicely silhouetted her.

A full block away, DawnStrike appeared to her side and a golden beam of light shot down the broken avenue. The rubble lit up in sharp morning light, casting harsh shadows as the beam shot to the Titan.

Ethniu dodged but there might have been a weariness to her motion. And the beam adjusted, hitting the Titan in the chest and pushing her back.

She stumbled and one step went back past the lip of the crater and she started to stagger down the broken slope.

"You DARE mock ME!" Ethniu screamed and the Eye blasted out its hateful ray.

The Praetor vanished and reappeared to the other side of the crater and tilted her head. "Not from any great effort."

Ethniu gave an inarticulate rage-filled below and leapt across the crater trying to grapple with her.

Quirking an eyebrow, DawnStrike and gestured with her hand as if she were ordering in a wine bar and the clouds above thickened and a massive pillar of orange fire shot down slamming the Titan back into the crater.

The Eye shot up and raked over the lip of the crater in a circle. Buildings blew apart in a rough arc.

There were blasts of fire to the South that reflected off the clouds making them seem aflame. I could make out the hazy motions of Nyx stealth scouts and saw long lances of fire clearing an entire road of stalled vehicles. From my vantage point, I could barely make them out a couple dozen blocks or so, but CloudFire was among them. Another Daughter of the Imperatrix had arrived. Her eyes burned and her flaming hair billowed behind her with the magical bleed-off of the fiery pillar she had summoned at her sister's order.

The wards on the Lavin tanks shone as they raced down the road spreading their formation. It was not a stealthy approach, but given the smoldering fire to each warding shield I supposed CloudFire was trading stealth for protective power.

"You will NOT deny MY due!" The Titan screamed. "You interloping half breeds are nothing! You stand between me and a reckoning with the pitiful dregs of this world's divinity"

DawnStrike's green eyes turned flat. "You simpering Child. This is War. You bring your army to kill, to seize ground, to destroy your enemies. Here you ravage and pillage and offer no quarter. And you dare whine when we draw blood? When we refuse to treat this as some game?"

Racing up from behind our lines, the 23rd Legion Behemoth and its Battle Tanks were moving in to support the 12th Legion. I was not sure what even two dozen Lavin heavies would do against the Titan, but 24 tanks with their wards enhanced by Censor CloudFire? Plus their scouting vehicles, artillery, Ritual Plate, and Infantry support. That would at least slow the Titan down. Slow her enough for BlackSky and our allies to strike?

The Titan stomped back up the slope. The Eye glowed but did not fire. "You-"

DawnStrike cut the Titan off. "If you say cheater, I will be quite cross."

"Yes, you would hate to lose a bet, Dear Sister," a deeper resonant purring voice said as CloudFire appeared far down another street.

Her flaming orange and yellow hair was pulled back to where it flowed down the back of her armored gold and bronze dress. She stood with her immense hooves braced on the top deck of a battle tank that shimmered with intense wards and had a lowered ramming dozer blade. Three more tanks rumbled behind her in covering positions.

The Titan looked between the two Daughters.

"No you petulant child, you will not advance," DawnStrike patiently explained.

++++


Smirking, Titan stood to her full height. "You think these toys can stop me? The most you can do is bury me in rubble."

As her tanks raced around, CloudFire' laugh echoed over the broken landscape. "We can delay you; we can buy time. "

She gestured and the tank troop she was leading, plus three other quartets, a full Tank Swarm, that had gotten into position opened fire. The Lavin's 124mm shell was about 50 lbs. And 16 exotic armor-piercing enchanted variants hit the Titan in a storm of antic light and lashing flames that turned the ground into ash.

Half of the crater slumped apart into a fine heap of gritty sand that blew apart in a gritty cloud.

The battle tanks immediately revved their engines and withdrew leaving a gasping Titan scrambling as sparks and flames flickered over her metallic skin. Half of her silver hair had been melted off.

"We're not the ones afraid of morning, afraid of what will happen when Mortal Authorities arrive." DawnStrike's hands started to glow.

"But where is your mother? You fight here while she cowers..." The Titan paused and turned her head to the North-east.

My gaze went in that direction as the Gorgon rig locked onto a large teleport flash followed by... hundreds, no thousands of flashes. All along the Fomor's lines of communication back to the lake where the Fomor had their reserves and supplies. At least three thousand individual teleports.

A mass teleport. In theory sufficient skill could enable one to arrive and, using their own observations and the sensor feed from a whole cadre of ground and aerial scouts, teleport entire Cohorts of troops, vehicles, and support equipment. And to place each fire-team, rotary cannon, and tank in the exact spot for maximum devastation. And to do so while artillery and torpedoes launched supporting attacks.

It would take skill, coordination, and raw power on an unbelievable scale.

BlackSky had arrived.

And she had personally brought six cohorts with full support in a mass ambush the Fomor didn't see coming, an ambush they couldn't conceive of. One that could encircle the enemy, or at least cut off their line of retreat.

Contrary to her claims, the Titan's host was not an occupying force. For the Fomor this was a raid. And the most important part of a raiding mission was being able to break contact, exfiltrate, or at least retreat.

DawnStrike's smile was cold. "You wanted Mother's attention."

Ethniu screamed.

The Eye flashed towards Dawn. She teleported away; the clouds above coalesced as CloudFire summoned another fiery pillar that struck down. The Titan was briefly illuminated inside the roiling inferno. And then there was another three-tone alert.

My Gorgon rig was able to track these subsonic torpedoes. And from their giant monolithic explosions they were likely Galatine torpedoes. An inexpensive option, the Galatine eschewed most stealth, evasion, and advanced propulsion systems. Instead, it was a mere delivery system for over 800 lbs of high alchemical explosives.

Though expense was relative, for all the Torpedoes, Ritual Plate, Cohorts, and Armored Troops we might as well have been dropping pallets of millions of aurei on the Titan.

Some of the Lavin Battle Tanks, and their attendant infantry riding in Nymph light transports and Triarii IFVs had moved to support the Cohorts of the 12th Legion. The 23rd's LRI Cohorts were also arriving; Umbra Mediums deploying Infantry Centuries right to the battlefield.

Most of the 23rd's tanks were apparently the Lavin Mark 2 which had 2 Minerva rotary cannons in addition to a Metis heavy rotary cannon coaxial with the main gun which could also fire anti-infantry canister shot. With plenty of Infantry and RP support the shattered Fomor Formations were facing withering anti-infantry fire.

Even in the nightmare that was urban combat, without the Titan, the Fomor would have to count on an especially strong, brave, and creative sorcerer to even have a hope of slowing a Lavin.

The tanks advanced. And it seemed that the Fomorian inventory was light on anti-armor weaponry.

The third Torpedo barrage cleared. I wondered if the rotating through the types was testing to see which had the most effect on the Titan or was some commander dealing with the Fleet's finite supply of the heavy munitions.

DawnStrike had appeared further back closer but not quite near to her sister. Neither wanted to have both be able to be hit by the same blast from the Eye.

She simply spread her wings behind her and gestured "come forward" with her open hand.

The Titan's metal skin was no longer pristine; it had a rainbow patina that many metallic sheets got after an improper temper. The Titan took a step then a note of hesitation, of caution, crossed her face.

"Dither if you wish," the Praetor said. "It is not our forces who have daybreak as their enemy. Let Mother extinguish your minions, your allies, your supplies. I'm sure they'll accept such a betrayal with magnanimity."

"What do You know, Coward!" the Titan screamed. "You are interlopers here! This is not your world. They do not respect you."

Ethniu froze at DawnStrike's small smile.

Maybe. Maybe the other Accorded Nations did not respect us. But they knew how to use an opening. The Fae were another force of respectable skill in misdirection. If the Queen of Winter could not make use of an angered enemy myopically focused on another target that insisted on a harassing retreat, drawing the Titan further and further from the center of combat...

But it was not just faerie. It was said that the White Council's Wizards needed time for some great arcane working. And the Embassy was showing, only a fool would challenge the Svartalves on ground they had prepared.

And then there was Dame BlackStone. She had appeared time and time again; this was her city.

++++

Calculating the battle before her versus the one behind her, the Titan set her jaw. "Fomor! To me!" she screamed as the Eye's ravaging beam sliced across the battlefield.

There was a maddened howl as the remaining Fomorian forces launched themselves towards the Titan. Hordes of long-limbed muscular shaggy creatures, short be-tentacled ape-like things, amphibious Fomorians, and human levies all broke away from our lines and moved towards the Titan.

Their casualties were heavy. Seeing a force concentration, the Arachne barrage had intensified, which made me hope that Legion Behemoth also brought more artillery shells.

DawnStrike seemed perturbed while CloudFire simply cackled.

The pillars of fire slammed down from the sky as the Armored vehicles of 23rd Legion Behemoth advanced supporting the reinvigorated troops of 12th Legion Severitas. Keeping a clear dead zone they avoided pressing to the Titan.

The three-tone chime alerted and the Fomorian reinforcements were blasted by shipkiller torpedoes intended for the Titan. The monolithic high alchemy explosives blew through the enemy troops.

They may have been less efficient than with a dedicated ground-support weapon, but the results were devastating.

But then Ethniu was already gone.

"Valhalla Flight, this is Centurion Valentina the Titan is retreating," I gasped and paused to take a sip from my water tube. "Repeat. The Titan is Retreating."

There was a pause. "Understood," the young technician said her voice a pleased purr. "Do you have a bearing?"

"North-east direction. Contact track is highlighted. High ground speed," I transmitted as I had the Gorgon Rig follow the tall form as she ran down the blasted street. Some of her retainers tried to keep up, but they were quickly left in the dust.

"Understood," the crisp voice replied. "Keep visual as long as you can."

"Confirm." I zoomed out the scrying intake from the Gorgon rig. "She is rendezvousing with support elements. Estimate may reach BlackSky's area of operation in zero-four minutes. Longer if she abandons all support."

Though I wondered how long BlackSky and her cohorts would be there. The bit of attention I could spare to that part of the battlefield indicated things were winding down. Unless she was planning to ambush the Titan herself, BlackSky could withdraw in good order.

As Ethniu made it to what seemed to be a stacked concrete parking lot the Fomor had used as a staging point between their main supply dump and their line of attack on the 12th, The three-tone trill sounded.

And the entire building was blown to rubble. I gave a sharp grin as I transmitted that set of footage. If we had to burn the city to save it from the Fomor then so be it.

It was doubtful that that would kill or even wound her. But that was not the point.

The Titan had put much in her inevitability, her invincibility. That none could stand athwart her.

With that arrogance she had boasted to the Accorded Nations, announced her plans to invade, and hurled herself at the Legions.

And it was Ethniu who had fled, bloody and battered.

I drank some more water. And split my attention between tracking when the Titan dug her way out and the 12th and 23rd Legions' assault on the remaining Fomor.

Maybe now Valhalla Command could spare a Spatha VTOL to pick me up.


End "Snippet" 3.

Special thanks to especially preier for checking and reading over this. For ch13 I have over 4,500 words written and hte combat scene is going well.

 

Better late than never. It's still incomplete but here's some of the top characters so far. This is still an in progress and I do plan to add more.



Main Cast:

Primus Volantes Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust

In a previous life she was Tanya von Degurechaff. Now reborn as an orphaned demoness, she once again she finds herself as an aerial combatant mage for an imperialist power. As some consolation, Being X is no longer interfering with her life. This means she is free to define her own life and to pursue her own goals. Unfortunately... she's still Tanya.

Using her extensive experience, drive, and skills, Tauria tries to make the most of her life. She enlists in the House BlackSky's Imperial Legions as a Ritual Plate Pilot, using her magic to control and guide air spirits that drive an intricate suit of flight armor. Tauria is cynical and is looking for a comfortable position, one that mitigates the bloodshed caused by the "crazy demons" all around her. However, she's not quite aware that her emotional control and opacity is not as good as she thinks it is.

Her plan to enlist as young as possible, would mean several years of her 20 year term would be in a non-combat cadet posting hit a snag when she is pulled into having to save several people's lives and fight an enemy RP squadron, all with only a sword and some pyrotechnics.


Volantes Centurion Victorious Shadow aka "Visha"

From the same previous life as Tanya's, Visha found herself also reincarnated as a Diyu Demoness and became a Pilot. She tracked down Tauria and once again became her wingwoman. Bright and optimistic she is a capable Pilot and was able to keep up with Tanya in two lifetimes. As she knows some, but not all, of Tauria's secrets, she is close to her commanding officer.

Volantes Centurion Baroness VioletBlood aka "LoveBlood"

Only a year older than Tauria, VioletBlood would have been one of the most skilled Pilots of her age. However, she was in the same Cadet class as Tauria, which drover her to new heights of skill, and jealousy. That she is cable of keeping up with both Visha and Tauria, despite her age and lack of past life experience is a testament to her ability. Haughty and arrogant, the Baroness is an orphan and tries to uphold BlackSkyvian noble values. She is also under Tauria's command and before Visha showed up was the Countess' wingwoman. She is one for rivalries, as she had one with Tauria before the Countess was ennobled, and one with Visha before she and the latter came to an accord with regard to Tauria.


Other Imperial Legion associates:


Volantes Centurion GreyDawn

A career line Pilot, GreyDawn is dry-witted and the fourth member of Tauria's Flight. An experienced flier, she as assigned to help bring some advice and supervision to a Flight consisting of 2 very young noble Pilots and one relatively young commoner Pilot. Fairly easygoing, she shares a skill for gambling with Visha, and has grown to appreciate her new Flight Leader and her methods. In combat she is typically VioletBlood's wingwoman to help mentor her as well while overall she can use her experience to give Tauria recommendations.

Volantes Prefect Centurion Artemis Magnus Quirinus

Squadron Commander of 5th Squadron, Beta Wing of the 23rd Imperial Legion Air Group, and Tauria's superior officer. Before her posting to the 23rd, Quirinus was Tauria (and VioletBlood's) Cadet Instructor. An officer with considerable experience and honors, she has taught many young Pilots. When it was decided by the general staff (and with a recommendation from the imperial Family) that Tauria would be given an active duty posting early Quirinus made sure that both young noble pilots would be under her command. She sees great potential in them, especially Tauria, but feels that both Pilots need seasoning to keep them out of trouble, especially VioletBlood. A good cook, Quirinus has focused her life on being an Imperial Legion Ritual Pate Pilot both as a commander and improving the Pilot corps' capabilities.

Ritualista Optio Suzette Gibbs

The chief of Tauria's artificer maintenance team. Every Ritual Plate Pilot has a team of four to five Ritualista who help maintain, repair, refuel, rearm, enchant and genially service the very complicated and expensive components, enhancements that make up a Ritual Plate suit. It is Gibb's job to make sure Tauria's Mark 15, Gamma Block Power system, Polyxo Advanced Multi Role suit is kept in operating condition. Given the combat wear Tauria puts on it, Gibbs' work is cut out for her. Somewhat distant, Gibbs wonders if her superior will manage to survive her operational tempo, but will do her best to keep her suit up to spec.



Relatives:

Sister Clementia Lusria

A nun of the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady, a devotee of a faith that venerates DarkStar (a lost Granddaughter of Imperatrix BlackSky), Clementia is a kind woman who took it upon herself to raise Tauria, especially when no one seemed willing to adopt the orphaned little demon. She formally adopted Tauria as her daughter on Tauria's 12th birthday.

Volantes Tribune (Rorarii) Duchess SilverFlight

A reserve RP Pilot, the Duchess is a patron of the arts and many charities. In particular, she supports many widows and orphans funds and organizations, especially for those of lost Legion and Fleet personnel. She also supports many Ritual Plate endeavors. She has her own mercenary Squadron and helps develop and test several suit components. Another things she does is help find those with the fairly rare talent that allows someone to control a Ritual Plate suit and direct the Zephyr air spirits that act as the propulsion and maneuvering systems. It was she who discovered Tauria, loaned her her first trainer suit, and sponsored Tauria's early enrollment into the cadet program. Like Clementia, she adopted Tauria as a daughter after Tauria saved her life, defeated a Zioxan War Mistress, and made ace, all before her 12th birthday. Actions for which Tauria earned the Preserver Crown in addition to being adopted.



There's many more characters can be added.
But these seem to be the keymost ones and well... ones that I have headshots of.

 

Chapter 15 has one major scene written at 6 words.
But, it's the start of a month so have another part of the Battle of Chicago side story.

This one focuses on another succubus queen. Lara Raith the head of the White Court of Vampires and how she's dealing with a very bad night.

+++

I am a vampire queen. I am the power behind the throne of one of the most powerful supernatural nations.

We are masters of subtle manipulation and temptation. We give humans what they want, what they think they want. We are powerbrokers, dealers, and keepers of secrets. We know where the bodies are buried and the little levers to pull.

And I have ambitions.

I had a certainty of how the world worked. I could look down my nose at the poor kine who were ignorant of the supernatural. But the seeds of that hubris lay in how my kind raised our young. Vampires of the White Court tended to be raised as humans, ignorant of their family's true nature, ignorant of the Hunger inside them, ignorant of what will happen to their first loves. It was thought that the shock, the sudden realization would strengthen us. It's one of many views of my father's that I disagree with.

I am a monster but a polite monster. This means knowing the value of my word, of trust, of adhering to deals. And knowing when said value has become a sunk cost.

I overthrew my father, a true monster who ruled through means most unpleasant, even by incubus standards. I am working to advance my people. And have strengthened bonds with powers such as the Winter Fae Court. I am also one of the few to have come out on top after fencing with the wizard Dresden.

Dresden... Dresden is a force of nature. One who is easy, and tempting, to underestimate, but people who do that tend to end up dead or worse. The Wizard Dresden stated a war, then Mab the Queen of Air and Darkness got her claws into Dresden, and then Dresden destroyed the Red Court of Vampires

He Faked his death, came back, and then... then BlackSky got her claws into Dresden.

And Dresden was no longer human, no longer male.

The Wizard of Chicago had become the clumsiest succubus I have ever seen in my long life. Empty Night, if having to seduce a guard, because a supposed succubus Princess could not do the simplest of tasks and break our brother out of prison were the low points of this day, then it would still have ranked as one of the worst.

Father's first... well the ways he got control over me are still the worst days.

But I had to deal with my brother seemingly going mad and trying to assassinate the King of Svartalfheim. At the exact time where it came at the highest diplomatic cost. The Svartalves nearly beat him to death.

Dresden.... BlackStone. At first I was.... unimpressed. Oh yes, aesthetically BlackStone was a pretty enough thing. Exotic and inhuman. But she was still bumbling and clumsy.

What kind of seductress was awkward? How could she ensnare her friends like that? I had shook my head seeing her interacting with those close to her. Though I suppose, they were still supporting Dresden.

And the new "sisters" of Dresden acquired, did little to help raise my estimation. One was an arrogant, and crazed redhead with even less subtlety than Dresden. The other was quiet and sly and arranged deals with the likes of Vadderung.

Then came the rumors. About House BlackSky, About BlackSky herself, about their world. It all grew as these succubae, these Diyu demons, came into the open and started negotiating their way into the Unseelie Accords.

Their... diplomats were professional and skilled enough, but I got the sense of folks pretending to be Great Game-era imperialists. I remembered when the Winter and Summer Fae courts would dress up as World War 2 Soldiers and have dances and balls in spiffy uniforms they did not understand.

People playing at war. That is not to say that the Fae are not powerful warriors. They are among the strongest factions of the Unseelie Accords. And if rumors are true, then Winter has the largest standing army.

However, it is one thing to be a powerful supernatural force, it is another to have a military capable of something like Operation Overlord or Barbarossa.

There is a reason the White Court worked to influence and subvert humanity, instead of trying to directly confront the bucks and does.

Thus seeing these Great House demons in their gowns and brocaded, double-breasted uniforms strut about, as if they were 19th century European imperials plotting to divide up Western Asia, gave me... questions.

And since I had lived through that period of history, I was less than impressed. Also one House, Great or no, negotiating entry? Why not the whole of the Diyu powers? It was not like House Raith was an Accorded nation on its own power.

They had population and capable artificers, but the Fae had both of those, and the Svartalves were masters of the latter. And the demons were coming to us.

And also well... a petty part of me thought it was a poor sign that they thought Harry Dresden was worthy of being part of their imperial family of being a princess of all things.

Still, despite her flaws, Dresden had managed to concoct a rescue scheme that... amazingly worked. Of course it required I had to trust a clumsy demon with some ill-conceived hope of saving and protecting our brother.

And then the night got even worse. I would learn how bad things would get. But at that time I experienced magic and monsters at a level that made me feel like I was freshly exposed to the horror and powerlessness that came with seeing the supernatural world.

First, a massive hex destroyed all power, communications, and vehicles in the city, stranding us on the side of the road. At the moment all my power was reduced to one Vampire Queen, one incubus brother being killed by his own Hunger, and one redheaded Valkyrie mercenary.

Not nothing, but stranded in the middle of a city in a massive blackout?

And then things got worse.

+++


We split our time carrying Thomas. Freydis did not complain. The Valkyrie did not seem outwardly worried, but she was on alert.

We were hardly unique. There were plenty of other people with wounded compatriots. Some stayed by their cars others were trying to move them, especially the walking wounded. There had been a lot of car accidents when everything had gone wrong.

Right now the kine were lost and confused without their communications and lights. The fear would come later. As would the violence.

Not helping was when the hundreds of flashes emerged as the sky opened up and.... ships poured through. My stomach chilled when I remembered the words of another combative little redhead.

It seemed like Dresden's older sister was not so baselessly arrogant. Or at least that was the hopeful interpretation.

Worse would be if the grand air fleet that appeared over the city after a massive hex and then swam off into the darkness was not House BlackSky's. Yes, the hopeful view was that the ancient demonic empress had just summoned an invasion fleet.

Otherwise, it meant someone else was trying to invade Chicago this night.

It turns out it was BlackSky's fleet and another power was trying to invade.

Lovely.

This had really been a bad day. And it was going to get worse.

I'm not sure of our destination. We were heading roughly east. That was the direction of the nearest White Court cache. There would be personnel, supplies, and more at that location.

It was also the direction of the marina where the Clumsy Succubus wanted me to go to. Though if the hex was caused by the most likely faction to betray all of us, then getting on the water would be near suicide.

Again... if the hex was House BlackSky's doing... well it showed how bad things were that I hoped that air fleet was in reaction to the hex and... not something worse.

Those ships, airships of all things, disgorging whatever troops they carried and striking against the Accorded Nations would be bad. And bad for the people of this city. Right now, the city's defenses were limited.

I wondered what was happening at Marcone's castle. How were all the representatives of the Accorded Nations reacting to this? Did they have time to react?

I took comfort in that if this were some sort of demonic coup that I would not be left out in the middle of nowhere. No, some hit team would be coming for me.

And that's when I heard the soft rustle of membranous wings cutting through air.

Thomas was put to the ground as quickly and gently as possible as I went nearly back to back with Freydis. She had pulled out a compact little rifle that had been slung under her light jacket.

At least Justine was out of this. I had put my people to protect her, and Dresden probably did as well, but...

Hooves and boots hit pavement. Most were the muted sounds of graceful predators. There was the slight rattle of gear. I looked around and saw helmeted, armored figures landing, their hands on rifles with slings that linked to their front harnesses.

Horns poked out of matte helmets. Tails and wings swished behind them. Even in the less than figure-flattering grey and darker grey armor, they were all alluring and lovely women.

Except... one of them didn't wear quite the same armor. Hers was a glossy blue and a long coat trailed behind her. She also bore no helm and... most reassuring she landed and had to take a jerky half step forward to avoid face-planting.

"Dresden what the hell is going on?" I snarled as she wobbled around on those ridiculous hooves.

"It's not my fault!" BlackStone whined.

I grossed my arms. "Explain. Quickly."

"Perhaps we should first look at your wounded sibling." A pale-green eyed woman landed with utter grace and silence behind Dresden. She had fine pink hair that looked oddly dull in the dark night and wore a dark green set of armor. She had a rather large handgun holstered that looked more plain than the slightly more baroque and brass-fitted weapons the others carried. "And stop saying things that make you look worse." She slapped Dresden on the back of the head.

Ah, BloodMist, the demonic.... mother to BlackStone.

"An explanation would help," I stated as one of the demonic soldiers slung her rifle and approached, gloved hands raised.

She had primly-cut, fine lavender hair, curled horns that might have been a bit bigger than her comrades', and an inquisitive face. The gear packs around her hips and lower back were also a bit larger than on her compatriots. I supposed people with wings couldn't wear backpacks. "I am medic," she said in oddly accented English.

I nodded to Freydis to let her approach.

Kneeling down, the lithe succubus hissed as she murmured and held a hand over his wounds. "His... Hunger? Is killing?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes, we know."

The medic nodded and took out a little pouch and a syringe. There was a softly shimmering red liquid to it. She quickly injected it. "Painkiller and energy. Feed."

"That's not going to save him."

"Buy time. Maybe." She frowned and busied herself. "Princess BlackStone, consent did he?"

I gave a sharp exhale. "Dresden. Don't make me ask you thrice."

Dresden was working for me; Mab had transferred the favors she owed me to her Knight. Perhaps spending one on getting my brother out of Marcone's custodianship in his castle was not the wisest way to spend it, given the Clumsy Succubus had her own plans, but my brother was out. The question was if he would stay my brother.

The Winter succubus shivered. "I didn't mean... er.... Look. The Fomor are attacking, King Corb went into the castle and broke guest-right. He killed a bunch of Marcone's people. His own goons got their necks snapped. He also brought his Mistress: Ethniu, the Last Titan. She was the one who hexed the whole city with a magical superweapon in her eye socket before stomping off."

After taking a moment to process her rambling, I pinched the bridge of my nose. Wonderful.

I noticed the four soldier-demons other than the medic had shifted and their guns were now facing out as they edged forward and took defensive positions.

"I saw the fleet," I stated.

"Marcone and Mab were gathering all the support they could. Your man, Riley sent a runner and is activating all of your forces. He can't commit them to battle without your countersign but he can get them ready and move them."

I nodded. Good help was worth their weight in gold. "Where is he? At the castle or making for one of our facilities in the city?"

"Last I saw he was getting on a demon dropship thingy," BlackStone said, earning another smack from her mother.

"Riley asked if we could arrange for transport to your Chateaux," BloodMist explained.

"Ah, I thank you for your assistance," I glanced up into the sky. I could see a few dark shapes buzzing about and there was a throbbing sound.

"So, that fleet was your contribution to the Winter Queen and Marcone?" I asked while the medic pulled out a few tins of salves and other injections. There was even a bracelet made of stones she put around his wrist.

She worked with a quiet professionalism and a degree of worry. Which I supposed was fitting. From what I knew of the sprawling imperial family, while Dresden might be the youngest daughter of the youngest daughter, letting a Princess' brother die would... not be great for the medics' future career.

"The fleet is mostly there to transport and protect Corpus Incursio Reliance," BloodMist said.

"Six Legions," Dresden added.

"Fortuitous for you to have such a force already aboard troopships and to have them within range," I dryly noted.

BloodMist snorted. "Did you honestly expect the Fomor to deal in good faith? We arranged insurance."

"Better to have it and not need it," I tried to keep my tone light. This... the demons had expected the Fomor to betray them, and their "insurance" was reading half a dozen Legions, plus whatever else those airships carried.

"Were you ever in scouting, Lady Raith? Pardon me for not knowing if that was a thing on this world when you were a child," the Empress's youngest daughter stated.

"And on the off chance Corb aurally agreed to a full ceasefire, or didn't even declare war your fleet could have stayed hidden where it was," I surmised to the demon giving a slight head nod. "And what's this about consent? Was this your plan all along Dresden? Turn my brother, make him a succubus like you. Did you think that would keep the Accorded Nations from tracking him?"

I kept most of the venom out of my voice. Abstractly, it had a certain logic. And it was a suspicion I had ever since we found out what the Svartalves had done to Thomas. The change apparently healed as a side effect of rebuilding someone's body into a demon succubus. And as Dresden, with shocking unsubtly for her, showed she could use thaumaturgy to track us down with trivial ease.

But if Thomas were.... a female demon. Then that would change her.

"Not without his consent," BloodMist stated, her tone icy.

"He's dying."

"Not without his consent," she repeated a flash to her eyes. "If you knew anything of us you'd know how much of a violation that would be."

Dresden gave an exhale and her tail drooped.

"If he would rather die an incubus than live as one of us then we will honor that."

"I've... I've got a way to get us more time," BlackStone said. "We might not need to turn him."

BloodMist glared at the both of us. I did not disagree with her. Well, the whole focus on consent was not exactly how the White Court worked, but in this specific case I was torn. If Thomas were turned into one of them, in many ways he... she would be even more distant. But if that were the only option? But... what did he want?

"Your grace, Lady, Princess, I could probably awaken him. The right stimulant would do it. It would be painful but his constitution..." The lithe demon medic idly adjusted her tools. "I do not recommend doing it more than once. But... he'd probably be able to answer you."

Any immediate response was cut off by the sound of throbbing... well engines was the best word. There was certainly a downwash as an aircraft swooped down at rapid speed with a bone-jarring deceleration before it came to a hover above the street.

Detritus and litter blew away and we had the full attention of the various humans who were still in shock from the massive blackout.

It was a few yards away and the soldier-succubae moved to protect it and us as the back ramp and side doors opened. Above in the sky figures in heavy-armored.... suits that had slight tracery and more of that wind-whipping throb circled around.

The craft was a dark grey that had hints of red. It reminded me a bit of a helicopter or maybe a vertical takeoff and landing craft. What with the sliding side doors and back ramp. But instead of rotors it had a pair of stubby wings that each ended in a rotating pod that sucked air through and did other complicated manipulations.

Everything thrummed with arcane energy.

"Riley took one of those?" I inquired as a succubus in something that looked a lot like a flight suit jumped off the back ramp. She was carrying a stretcher and went right up to my brother and started helping the medic move him over and strap him down.

Freydis cocked her head and gestured. I followed where she was pointing with her gun. The humans had been shocked by the arrival of the demonic soldiers and the dropship or whatever it was had not helped but they were getting more... interested.

Which was fair, it was dark out and I'm sure many were ignoring the extra demonic bits and instead saw soldiers and a rescue crew with a working aircraft. Something that they had not seen since that Titan's hex.

Damn. Between the Fomor's incipient attack and BlackSkyvians and all the other Accorded Nations, including my own, counter attacking. All in the middle of a major city.

The fallout from this...

I shook my head. The aircraft was small, it looked like it would just barely fit the ten of us, not counting the succubus who was now helping the medic lift Thomas up. "I accept your offer of transport."

BloodMist blinked as we all made our way to the howling craft. The soldiers were still guarding our perimeter while the airborne suits did their thing. "Lady Raith, the Spatha is just going to get us up to the Patrol Carrier, we'll be taking that to my daughter's destination."


+++


The flight up was as smooth as could be expected. Given that the pilot, who once we were strapped in and the doors were halfway closed, decided to act as if the Fomor had access to anti-air missiles.

Though given how secretive those foggy monsters were, and how advanced their bio-sculpting was, maybe they had some sort of flying mollusk that exploded on impact. I had no room to begrudge the demons their paranoia.

I had put the White Court on high alert and brought in more of my sisters, and other members of the Blood, and had my household guard equipped and ready with Riley the head of my mortal forces having readied equipment and fallback plans.

I thought I was prepared for treachery. It turns out Dresden, the most awkward succubus princess, had me beat. In addition to doing work for the Queen of Winter and thus working for me, the Wizardess of Chicago had been preparing for a demonic invasion.

I was in an ill-fitting pull-down seat near the front which gave me a view of my brother's stretcher that had been strapped down in the center-line of the small cabin.

The lights were a dim red color. I suspected it was to protect night vision, though given how well they could see in the dark... maybe it was to make the Spatha Light VTOL give off less light. The conditions were cramped in with the ten of us in back.

To my left, the Load Mistress, which was what the cargo handler was called, had moved up near the cockpit and sat on a jump seat to one side behind the pilot. She spoke in a clipped professional voice.

My Latin was not as good as my Etruscan, but it was handy to be able to speak the language of the White Council of Wizards. The demons spoke a different dialect and had a more flowing cadence but it was understandable, save for the occasional technical term, and loanword from some other language.

I took some amusement that the cocksure attitude and careful speaking patterns of pilots seemed universal

The pilot's controls and instruments were an interesting mix of switches, leather-wrapped yokes, brass gauges, orange glowing nixie tubes, and fully holographic displays in the center of the gauge cluster that also overlaid much of the canopy.

I had seen such magic in the Svartalven embassy, and the aides to BlackSky were using similar displays. Though it was one thing to have a capability on a personal device, that a caster could presumably refresh, it was another to have something rugged enough to serve as flight displays for a combat aircraft.

My atavistic tendencies grew with naked want at the temptation before me. Not of the succubae, but this whole aircraft system. Well, the succubae too. The soldiers in the back compartment had a variety of skin, hair, and eye colors and ranged from whipcord lithe to broadly strong, to compact and aggressive. They had a constrained anger as if they were offended by the presumption of the Fomor to dare attack a city under the aegis of one of their Princesses.

They had a sharp allure to them and were more reserved than Dresden. At least the peace talks, Empty Night what a farce those ended up being, helped it exposed me to even more succubae. It was one thing to see Dresden and her crazy sister, it was another to see their empress and daughters.

I gave a slight nod to BloodMist. Yes, their magic... their technology was alluring, but so were the succubae themselves. I cursed a bit for Etri getting closer with House BlackSky. His people's interests and desires would find these demons very appealing.

The aircraft started to buffet a bit as the turbulence increased. I turned back to the front canopy and saw a dark shape suddenly appear in the leaden night sky ahead of it.

It was a rigid-hulled airship. It had a single set of horizontal tail fins, but twinned ventral and dorsal vertical fins. Ahead of the fins were propulsion pods that extended a bit beyond the massive craft's envelope.

We were now on a direct path for the rear of the airship. It had a long gondola that ran the length of the frame. At the very end, forward and between those downward-pointing tailfins was a large door that retracted up into the airship.

Based on the display, the aircraft we were on was following a track to intercept with the airship. As we approached, there was a thrum of magical power and the turbulence faded. Maybe the spirits that were pushing the Spatha got into some kind of harmony with those pushing the airship.

Either way, we slipped into the aft bay door. I might have clenched my hands as our aircraft slipped between the giant airship tailfins. It looked like I could reach out and touch the material.

And then the Spatha's propulsion pods rotated forward and acted as reversers cutting out thrust. It turned out to be less of a tight fit than I feared. I mean... there were whole meters of clearance on either side left to right.

Still... the aircraft's landing gears hit the decking and I saw a bunch of air crew scurrying around attaching cables and mounting clips to secure the aircraft as the door behind us rolled back down. The pilot powered down the Spatha, and even I could feel the spirits in the aircraft being lulled back to sleep.

She gave some banter in Latin thanking us for flying Home Fleet Lines and reminded us to check out the duty free shop in the terminal.

Shaking my head, I stood up and watched as the Spatha's side and rear doors opened. the airship moved, reminding me a bit of being on the ocean but with smoother longer frequency motions

First up were a pair of medics. They weren't wearing the battle rattle of our lavender-haired friend, instead they had some type of body-hugging jumpsuit that had reinforcements on the knees and elbows and a few cuffs and pockets and loops for holding tools and the like.

I nodded as they checked over Thomas and helped move his stretcher off the dropship.

I followed and despite it all, suppressed a little smile. Naturally, BlackStone was a bit clumsy as she tried to walk given the airship's gentle roll. But more than any other time she was trying to act graceful. I noticed BloodMist's amusement. Ah, Dresden was trying to impress her mother

"Welcome to the Kolibri class Patrol Carrier HFV Kestrel, Lady Raith," BloodMist said as the half-squad of soldiers walked past us.

"Let me guess, you're going to take him to sick bay?" I asked, taking in the smell of machine oil and... incense. There was also grease and various other chemicals. Though, the whole bay was brightly lit and had white and grey paint as well as the expected black and yellow hazard stripes. That bit of familiarity struck out to me

BloodMist nodded as the medics loaded Thomas' stretcher into a type of open freight elevator that lifted up into the deck above us. Honestly, I was reluctant to let him out of my sight, the Daughter of BlackSky had plans.

And I doubted she would betray me, not over this.

There were various docking cleats that could be folded up from the deck, which bore a few scratches and a lot of tire scuffs. Off to the sides were various carts that did all sorts of presumably maintenance tasks. A couple had been wheeled over to the drop ship and were doing some sort of servicing. There were equipment lockers and tool chests and other parts of kit. Everything was locked down and secured.

Which was sensible on an airship. Still it was... interesting to see the shipboard crew doing their jobs. It was almost easy to forget that they were all perky little demons.

BloodMist shook her head. "Yes, but the facilities are compact and limited; this ship only has a complement of 150 or so. Normally weight is the issue for airships and we can go with more space, but even that's limited on these little craft," she explained as she led us away from the Spatha, which had actually landed a good twenty meters inside the airship.

Which left a good amount of space behind it for something else to land using that rear door.

I looked around. We were going past a bit of a bulkhead wall that seemed to strengthen this part of the gondola and maybe give some fireproofing between the compartments.

This whole lower deck was a good thirteen meters by not quite a hundred meters. And then I saw what was in the forward compartment.

The incense scent was stronger. There was still the smell of machine oil, lubricants and something akin to the sharp, almost sulfurous, tang of hot metal.

Immediately forward of the bulkhead were a set of benches, equipment tie downs, lockers and weapon racks that seemed to be a staging area for an infantry squad or so.

But beyond that....

There were several sturdy... not quite chairs that had been bolted to the deck. Consisting of heavy adjustable armatures, runes were inscribed on each one. Several very rugged looking concentric magic circles surrounded each seat. Around those was a grouping of tool chests, crates, lockers, and racks of parts and plating.

I was closer and saw that while there were a lot of mundane metal-working tools, the swarming maintenance staff had a variety of what could only be called implements.

Various crystals, wands, anathema blades, and other blatantly magical tools were used alongside, often in conjunction with grinders and engravers.

What they were working on.... well many of the "chairs" were empty. And some had staff busying and organizing; others were empty and did not even have staff. Maybe they were somewhere off getting food.

But the heavy duty seats that were occupied held something like a suit of armor. Breathtakingly complicated sections of plate armor were fastened together. Each plate consisted of several layers, and the inner ones seemed to be covered in engravings.

Though even the outer layers had some engravings and many glowed with light. Most of the suits were occupied, with succubae shorn of their metal masks and helmets chatting with their staff. A few were grabbing a quick snack and hydrating.

I knew the language, but their terminology was extremely specialized. It was like listening to some combination of pilot and wizard chatting with some of Etri's crafters.

It was like looking at a race team and their pit crew. Or.... as I looked around, like a fighter pilot and her maintenance team.

These were the suits that had been flying over-watch when BlackStone had... rescued us, and closer-up I could see variations.

Not the minor details of engraving or filigree or even the painted on accents. But some suits were all stark lines and swept features and even when tied down looked to be cutting through the air. While others were built more pugnacious and aggressive. Something with the air of a brawler.

Marching forward down the long gondola, these stations were two to a row. By my count there were twenty of these stations. Though two seemed to be unused and were probably spares.

BloodMist had described this craft as a Patrol Carrier. I suppose this was the demons' equivalent of combat aircraft. The room thrummed with martial power. And I could feel the air buzzing. It was like the propulsion pods of that dropship but even more focused.

Magic suits with enchantments, pilots who were Practitioners of some kind, and bonded spirits for speed and propulsion. There were also a handful of larger heavy duty containers that from their bulk had to be ordnance magazines. They probably held weapons, fuel, and other high density things that those suits used. I wondered if they had armored trapdoors so in the event of a fire they could simply be jettisoned.

Glancing around the sprayers, hoses, water pipes, lockers of masks and hoods, and other bits of firefighting equipment were obvious. Intentionally so, complete with more painted stripes in hazard colors.

Freydis' covetous look was even more blatant. Especially whenever we passed a seat that was occupied. Though by the numbers half were empty. Presumably, they were outside flying.

That was confirmed when a couple flew in via person-sized doors, port and starboard that were about halfway down the compartment. They were angled to face aft ward on an oblique. Meanwhile at the far forward end of the compartment was some sort of chamber that would launch these armored demon flight suits off the airship and into the sky.

"They're called Ritual Plate," BloodMist stated.

"Oh?" I studied the suits. "Sort of a term of art?" Each suit had to have dozens of different spells and enchantments in all sorts of systems. Off the top of my head, I could guess there were collections of spells for propulsion, weapons, defenses, sensors, communications. Empty Night, there was probably a whole set of life support to give pressure and oxygen, depending on how high and fast these things went.

And all of those required maintenance or at least empowering. One thing I learned about magic was that you did not get results for free, and it required a lot of work. Even the Fae had limitations and costs for their creations.

And the craft of these demons looked well... there was an aesthetic elegance that came from the necessity of weight savings and being well-fitted to the succubus form, not to mention artisan flourishes. But these suits had a uniformity in parts and design that implied mass production and a ruggedness that indicated they were expected to get used in combat and have parts replaced.

It was not the solid ruggedness of an armored vehicle, more of a fighter jet, or for some of the more brawler-like suits an attack helicopter.

I pushed back a heady mix of anxiety and wonder. I suppose this was what mortals felt when they first saw the supernatural.

BloodMist gave me a sly smile. "Less than 'tank' being used for a class of armored fighting vehicle."

I nodded. "And their roles? I note several different types."

"I suppose you could guess the roles they can fit and those they cannot," BloodMist said as we waited at the bottom of a steep set of stairs made out of skeletal spars and perforated plate. Of course they would save weight wherever they could.

I snorted. "They would make poor troop, vehicle, or cargo transports. Unless you had a very small, very select bit of cargo, or..." I pondered. "One delivered some sort of teleport beacon, or a means to cut a Way into the Nevernever."

BlackStone looked a bit nervous while BloodMist gave me a thin smile. "Perhaps. Still you can guess the main roles are such things as air superiority, interceptor, strike, ground support, all with recon sub-variants. Not to mention dedicated sensor and scrying suits."

Nodding, I continued to study the suits. This many suits, in a mere patrol carrier... The things I could do with just a dozen of them. "This should give an advantage against the Fomor," I allowed. "They are probably lacking in air power."

"A dangerous assumption to make," BloodMist said as she went up the stairs.

"Still having nearly twenty of these suits will be useful, plus any other patrol carriers, and... larger craft," I allowed, following up behind her.

BlackStone made a choking noise while her mother chuckled.

We were up in a corridor that went aft to forward. It seemed a bit narrow but could at least fit two people passing each other if just. And there were more succubae in their little ship-suits, and a handful more in Legionary Armor.

"Yes, the Kolibri in Patrol Carrier configuration can carry 2 light Squadrons. That allows for some power projection. But well..."

"We brought the Valhalla," BlackStone said as we made our way forward.

BloodMist flashed a toothy smile as we passed a couple open doors that went into bunk rooms. They had a lot of beds stacked in levels four tall, but at least the beds themselves seemed wide, and there was a lot of storage.

"An evocative name," I calmly stated.

"All of the Avalon Class Heavy carriers have names like that." BloodMist shrugged. "The Valhalla has an RP Air Group. That's four Wings. Each Wing has 8 squadrons. That is a full squadron, of 12 pilots."

I did the math, that was nearly four hundred Ritual Plate. Lovely. Their assistance would make a difference. I had my suspicions that the Valhalla was only the start, but Legions with air cover would be a great help. Again, I wondered how much air power the Fomor had. Did they even know about air defense doctrine? How many supernatural powers did?

Though nothing was free. Not with geopolitics. And more and more it was becoming obvious that House BlackSky was not playing at being a great game imperialist power, they really were a nation state.

"And other Kolibri configurations?" I asked, the smell of fresh baked bread and stew tickling at my nose. Looking to the left though a large doorway, I saw a... cozy mess hall. It could seat maybe sixty people at half a dozen long tables. The tables were mostly empty, but the kitchen staff were busy organizing and cooking.

BloodMist gave an indulgent smile while BlackStone's stomach grumbled. "Oh yes, the Kolibri Patrol is a flexible platform. The Spatha and one of the light RP squadrons can be swapped out for various things.

"Such as a century of troops and an artillery system, a troop of scout vehicles, 2 Spatha and twenty troops, a supply of cargo, fuel, and munitions, or, in a more involved changeover such as adding launch tubes, converted into a corvette with 8 aerial Torpedoes."

I nodded along. So even non-carriers have a minimum of nine Ritual Plate. That takes up a fair footprint on a ship this size, that means they're needed as a defensive measure.

So, these airships have an acute vulnerability. Otherwise House BlackSky wouldn't give each ship such a defensive force. Not just in terms of the space on each airship, but in the expense in equipment and manpower. I was not sure how to take advantage of that weakness, but that they had it was reassuring.

"Naturally, the cargo configuration is the most common," BlackSky continued while BlackStone looked into the mess hall.

"How common?" I inquired.

"Well among Kolibri, the cargo version is about a third, but that's not a fair count as many forces, especially corvettes, use larger cargo ships.

"Of course. So, overall?"

"Overall in the Household Fleet, it's about half the hulls are various cargo and supply. Especially if you focus on larger hulls," BloodMist's tone was mild.

I nodded, trying to be calm. That was... a strong logistics capability. Having half of their airships be cargo ships was a very expensive investment, and reduced the number of hulls that could carry weapons or troops.

But that showed that House BlackSky... used these airships. And was serious about having them deployed and supported. "Maybe we should get something to eat? Or at least have some food sent over to poor BlackStone?" I asked while pondering.

Dresden pouted and tried to look mature in front of her mother. It was adorable.

BloodMist quickly relented and led us into the mess hall. "And are you hungry Lady Raith, Miss Gard?"

Freydis gave a slight shrug but her expression was hungry.

"Redheads," BloodMist chuckled.

"She does remind me a bit of a certain DarkStar," I ventured.

BloodMist eyed me and resumed her chuckle. "Perhaps," she allowed. "This one is spirited."

As we went to the head of the non-existent line, I looked over how all the tables and benches were secured to the deck. Even the condiment holders and utensils had compartments and locking trays. The presence of garum surprised me a bit more than it should have.

I also did some rough mental math on just how big an Avalon Heavy Carrier such as the Valhalla somewhere over the city would have to be. It had over twenty times the Ritual Plate as this Patrol Carrier.

Assume the same ratio of support equipment and crew... there's probably some efficiency of scale, but on the other hand a larger carrier may have more ancillary equipment or protection. Like more VTOLS or Torpedoes. Which I'm not sure if that means waterborne weapons or is some generic term for a large air-launched munition or both

So a 20 times heavier airship. But weight scales with the cube so... like over three times longer, wider, and taller.

Which for rough numbers... call this patrol ship 150 meters long meant anywhere from 500 meters to 600 meters, at least half a kilometer.

"Are you eating enough?" BloodMist asked her daughter.

That size was... mind-boggling, but only a rough number, as not all the airships I saw earlier were the roughly cigar shape that this one was. Quite a few seemed to be made out of clusters of two or three airframes.

"Yes, Mother," BlackStone whined to my delight.

Either way, immense ships. And ships that big were targets. Again I went back to what sort of defensive systems they had. With their level of magic some kind of ward seemed possible. But on that scale...

I shook my head and absently picked out some quarter-meter long loaf of wheat bread filled with cheese and sausage and a pickled sauce that had a hint of nutmeg. There was a whole basket of the savory things that seemed to be some kind of portable meal.

BlackStone, at her mother's prompting, took two and put in her pocket a string of dried sausages and a foiled packet of biscuits that smelled of molasses and cinnamon. Seeing Freydis take some of those as well, I made a note to take one of hers.

"Lovely," I complimented the cooks who were more of the perky ship-board succubae. Though, a couple were a bit taller, and even the more lanky ones still had muscles. They also seemed cuter, or at least less lean in the face, than the others. I wondered if that was a side effect of their duties.

I chewed thoughtfully as we got out of the mess hall. The sandwich, more of a wheat baguette with filling, was pretty decadent. The fresh bread, I guess they had a bakery up here, and the preserved meats and sauces and vegetables were a great blend. There was a bit extra to it; all in all not as good as sex, but could be a substitute. Well, for a human, not one of my kind. Still, it was rather filling and gave a bit of extra pep.

"Is all the food this good?" Freydis asked as she bit into one of the biscuits with obvious relish and happy murmur. I had to take one of hers; if a Valkyrie found a baked good that was delicious it was worth a try.

"Or is this a special meal before battle?" she asked.

I nodded as I thought. Freydis came from a warrior culture and one that valued feasting.

If House BlackSky had an airship that large for a carrier then they could make a troopship that large. Which could hold two or three thousand people. A few of those could move a legion of troops. Though if they have heavy equipment, artillery, tanks and mountains of supplies then it would require more ships.

"Feeding is a critical part of our logistics. It would be very bad for a succubus to go hungry," BloodMist smiled at me.

Ah, more reason why logistics was so important. Empty Night, it was challenging enough to feed representatives at the other White Court Houses when they came to the Chateaux for major events.

Feeding thousands of succubae, for an extended combat deployment? I wondered what would happen to Chicago after the battle....

If the Avalon Class was possible, then these demons could move a Legion in a flotilla, fleet, or whatever collection of ships. With... a lot of cargo ships to keep them fed.

Which was in line with the amount of large craft and their escorts I saw. That was an extreme mobility and the capability of deploying troops anywhere in force was powerful. And this demonic nation picked Dresden to make a princess?

I shook my head.

We returned to the long corridor with its brightly painted walls, railings, ductwork and conduits mostly concealed behind panels.

The door across from the mess was closed, but had a simple plate in Latin that translated to something like: Recreation, though with some connotations of brothel.

That was not proof of anything. The name-plate by the galley called it a Ganeum. Which was either a joke or a shift in meanings, as a Ganeum in ancient Rome was their version of a greasy spoon dinner. And they got a reputation for attracting prostitutes.

"We are succubae," BloodMist said, after noticing my pondering.

"Oh, is that what that room is for? How does that work?" I asked, wondering if I had just reveled to her that I knew Latin. On the one hand the words had similar roots to English terms, on the other BloodMist might have just presumed I spoke Latin.

"If you are still hungry, we can arrange something." BloodMist tilted her head. "But we might not have time."

"Time?"

"We're changing course. Come," BloodMist stated.

I hung by the door for a moment. Was it a rota system? Did they have dedicated prostitutes as part of the crew? Humans that were fed on? Surely, that would not be enough to keep them supplied. I had not seen any humans since we boarded. Or was it simply just a recreation center for sexual release?

With a slight bit of reluctance, I followed. This would not be the only mystery to me aboard this ship. For one I did not know what they used to power their propulsion and other systems. There was the slight buzz of some sort of process and there were lots of overlapping bits of excess magic about. I glanced over to Dresden.

But her nervous, awed expression, she was doubtless feeling all sorts of things.

++++


The... briefing room, command and control room, or whatever, was off-putting.

It was less the captain of the ship in her gold and white uniform who watched me with deep purple eyes. With light red skin, she was short and had a controlled, haughty aggressiveness. Her sharp features were lovely and her pale blue hair was braided back and complimented her white horns and tail.

If not for the order of a daughter of her Empress, she would not have let me in here, and maybe not even onboard her ship.

But that was just one discomfort, the room's decor was... upsetting.

Oh, there was nothing garish or macabre. No bodies having from chains, or war trophies or any other signs of indulgent bellicosity.

Now, there were a few items in the room that were shrouded with grey sheets. Though from the outlines they gave I was reminded of things more like spherical astrolabes, sextants, or other bits of baroque finery. The artificer machinery that was unshrouded in the compartment was tantalizing enough. Most of the items were put up against the walls, though there was a large five-sized table in the center of the room.

But the walls....

They were tiled. From the stark, if comfortable utility of the rest of the airship that alone was noteworthy.

The tiles consisted of just two rhombuses: a fat one in jade and a thin one in an alabaster marble. However, each rhombus was inscribed in a silver arch that went from one side to a neighboring side, and a and a gold arch that connected the two opposite sides.

The gold and silver lines linked up with the next rhombus over. The pattern was a collection of five pointed stars and arcs and circles that somehow did not ever repeat.

This formed a collection of shining silver and gold loops and whorls among stars of jade and whorls and arches of alabaster. The whole, interlocking mosaic was beautiful but also disquieting. The silver and gold lines never branched, never terminated, save for when a door or something was cut into one of the room's five walls.

Perhaps the shape of the compartment itself was contoured. The pentagonal room had five walls and the ceiling vaulted up in five curved triangular sections. The tiling seemed... the most... regular from the middle of the ceiling where an orb-like light stood at the very apex and center of the ceiling. Surrounding us in something like a pentagonal dome of jade and marble, silver and gold

The orb itself was odd as within it was a crystalline structure that reflected and emitted light in odd rings of five and ten points of light. Its light was bright but also a shade too far into the red. To be entirely comfortable.

It was also... challenging to see the pattern go out as it filled the ceilings and then went down the walls, which I noticed were not quite straight vertical or flat planes. The rhombuses might have slightly changed their sizes. Or that might have been a trick. I did not look too closely, not after when I entered and peered at the silver and gold inlay and realized that each line was less a solid line and more a chain of interlocking runes.

It was another example of something magical made.... mundane. The worst part was that if this ship had a room like this, that meant that these rooms were commonplace among the ships of the demonic empire's fleet.

At least it was easy to not look at the floor. Beneath a clear polymer was a similar pattern of rhombuses with their silver and gold inlay.

Freydis seemed immune to the issue. The five of us, including a tall aide to the captain, had crammed into the chamber around the central table. The Valkyrie was more focused on what was being shown to us.

Though BlackStone at least had some disquiet about her, though it was mixed by a barely-restrained urge to kneel down and study everything in the room. I was not sure if I should take comfort or worry in the wizard feeling ill-at-ease but also tempted.

The display itself, well... I was starting to get used to the illusionary holographic magic the demons had. The Svartalves had a similar capability. And the display over the table was deliberately simplistic.

It was a map of the city. Buildings and other terrain features were done in simple grey-green blocks that roughed out footprint and size.

The Formor were invading.

I did not need a key to know what the sickly yellow markers coming up from Lake Michigan meant.

"I suppose King Corb and his Master lied when they gave us several hours, you can never trust Titans," I noted.

The captain, Principales Zariah Magnus Schechter, eyed me; there was some mirth there. "Perhaps. We may have sped up their time tables, or they may intend to sally at midnight."

"We will show them their folly," BloodMist stated and nodded to the airship captain.

"Not us, not at the moment," Schechter admitted and motioned to her tall, black-haired aide.

The younger succubus moved her hands and the display shifted. Purple dots and symbols started to populate it. My eye went to a cluster of airships to the north of the Fomor landing zones.

That was us. This ship was the Patrol Carrier HFV Kestrel. Also with us was the Torpedo Corvette HFV Orchid with its eight Torpedoes.

BloodMist had been coy about exactly when those munitions could do, but I could do the math. Something that was equivalent to the weight of an eighth of a legionary century with a supporting artillery piece had to weigh several tons and this have a fair bit of capability.

And I doubted they only had one kind of warhead. Especially on vessels like the DarkStar. Which depending on how big it was... could have at least a hundred of the things. No wonder these demons also had a lot of cargo ships with them: reloads.

Again, I hated the feeling of surprise and shock. It was one thing to face one invading supernatural army. But now we were facing two.

I was a bit curious why there was no cargo ship with our little formation. Perhaps it was hanging back.

Instead our third airship was the Venture Scout HFV Juliet. A third the size of the Kestrel, from what BloodMist had said, it made this ship practically palatial. The Juliet existed as a reasonably high speed, and inexpensive platform for six Ritual Plate Pilots. They were outriders and screening assets for their Fleet.

That did explain why we were going by airship instead of taking a group of VTOLs. We were still going faster than by boat, and with this we had a larger force, and would not be limited by fuel if things went wrong.

Still, I was certain that the Juliet had other sensors, or scrying capabilities. And well... a small airship that had an endurance measured in weeks, could do more than fleet scouting and screening.

That made up our force. Altogether BloodMist had a bit over thirty Ritual Plate pilots, eight Torpedoes, one small Spatha VTOL, a few squads of Legionaries, whatever other weapons I was not privy to, and my own resources.

And we were taking a detour to avoid the Fomor Landings.

At least I had gotten a chance to, via various means, talk to Riley and give orders to him and to my sisters. The White Court would be ready. There were still things I could contribute to this.

Further, inland were more purple symbols. Many much larger than ours. Though all surrounded by a constellation of various escorts and screening figures. If my estimation was right, there was a group up to the north-west a bit past where O'Hare International Airport was.

It made sense, no matter the escorts, no matter the number of Ritual Plate, no matter what other protections these ships had.... they were still airships. They were fragile.

If the Fomor were attacking from Lake Michigan and as they had released a giant hex to disable mortal power systems.. then the demons would keep their troopships away from the enemy. Not too far, the more distance the more time it would take their dropships to make the round trip, but being able to hold their vulnerable troopships back was why they had dropships.

Even the Valhalla and the DarkStar were not over the city. Which made sense, if their main offensive weapons were Ritual Plate and a kind of enchanted long range stand-off missile...

I shook my head. All these precautions when White Court Intelligence was pretty sure that the Fomor had next to no air capability. Then again, said Intelligence also missed out on Ethniu and only heard rumblings that Corb was going to make a small strike later on in the Peace Talks. That was partially why I was willing to spend tonight rescuing my brother.

Not to mention their estimations on House BlackSky's capabilities.

I could not fault the demon's caution. If Corb had a way to take down one of their ships, he would. And if it were over the city... I did not want to think of the damage a half-kilometer long warship full of who-knows-what explosives, alchemical fuels, and magical energies would cause if it fell onto city block or two.

Part of me was worried that the demons used hydrogen as their lifting gas instead of something like helium. But... I really did not want to ask, not when I was still on board.

Alongside Freydis, I looked over the display. "All this intel is a composite of various land and air recon elements, no? Ritual Plate, Venture airships, and whatever Legionary scouts you've dropped in?"

The captain gave an indulgent nod, like I was a slow student who had potential. "But do not get too fixated." Her English was an odd mix of clipped vowels but flowing words. "We can't see everything and we can be spoofed. Can look for specific threats, but it will miss others, but it does give an overall trend."

BlackStone blinked. "What are the numbers?"

"We have to extrapolate from what our scouts are getting," the captain glanced at her aide.

BloodMist had a little grin as she studied the other purple marks on the map. Specifically, the octagonal symbols that had clustered around the Svatevelf Embassy.

"Sixty thousand. Plus or minus a few thousand. The boffins are still working on the exact composition. We can only fully ID a third of that. It helps that they're forming up and preparing inland." the aide shook her head. "But they've sent their own scouts ahead. And the shore is long with many buildings, and they can veil some of their troops. Or simply use tunnels dug ahead of time. And this is just their first wave."

Ah. That was going to be a problem. The map was sterile, but I knew, we all knew, that many Fomor, landing on the beaches were going to be murdering whoever they came across. Murdering and worse.

"And what are you doing about that?" BlackStone asked.

I made note of the use of "you" instead of "we".

As did BloodMist, but the demon simply held up a finger and kept us waiting for a few seconds. Then several more.

It was nearly half a minute before the yellow blocks near the shore started to break apart.

"Ah sister, so that's your game," BloodMist said after the map updated and dark purple parabolas appeared connecting the octagons in the Svartelf Embassy to the Fomor locations.

"You're shelling them," BlackStone noted with horror in her voice.

"Strength?" Freydis asked.

"Two reinforced Arachne batteries, call it thirty pieces," the aide supplied.

"It seems my sister prioritized landing those guns and a generous supply of munitions and protective equipment and other assets. That plus the skills the Svartalves have in defensive fortifications should make that a secure enough firebase," BloodMist stated.

"You're shelling Chicago," BlackStone stated as her tail twisted in knots. "Well... if it gets them."

I kept myself under more control. I had been around longer than the wizard and had seen horrors and the power of mortal weapons. Still, even I had not expected this.

"Damage Assessment is ongoing but.... artillery never gets everyone. We don't have perfect recon," the aide, Centurion Vilnus I think her name was, said.

"And we're not indiscriminately bombing," Schechter stated.

Which I wondered was because she thought it would be a waste of valuable ordnance or out of concern for human lives. I mean, Kine were... Kine. But we were fighting the Fomor, in part because we're better than them.

But mostly because the Fomor would kill us, and then the humans would go to war against the supernatural.

"Don't worry, it's not just Arachne." BloodMist gave a vicious grin. "The DarkStar and the 42nd Bombardment flotilla are using the artillery barrage as cover." She pointed to a few more explosions. "If I had to guess, those are Galatine warheads. Inexpensive, but in this situation, will do well against concentrations of troops.

"Not as well as other options, but it seems Sister is not letting the enemy know all that we can do just yet."

I blinked about the "inexpensive" part. The idea of a giant magical missile being cheap was... absurd. But every large organization had to manage a budget, and that meant whatever the demonic Legions was holding back was something... worrying.

I started to sympathize with Dresden, living alone and poor in a basement apartment, having to fight against the might of the Vampire Nations, or the White Council of Wizards. She had spent much of her... of his life being the scrappy underdog facing far larger enemies.

"If the enemy thinks we're mostly using mundane tube artillery, then they won't react as quickly," Schetler shook her head. "After this, they'll learn to distribute their forces and it'll be harder to catch them out in the open."

I was not certain. Corb was a very prideful man, and as long as it was not him personally being killed he could care little for his troops. And from what I had been told of Ethniu, her arrogance was such that she would hardly notice her minions dropping like flies. "I am not certain an artillery battery wound count as mundane in the Fomor's eyes."

"Their loss."

The aide had, oh so helpfully, zoomed in. And the abstraction turned into a feed that jittered about. It also was not quite perfect as if it was taking something from a couple angles that almost got the whole picture. It was probably a composite of some forward scouts and maybe some airborne assets.

I idly wondered how the data intake was being processed; the demons did not seem to have much in the way of electronics. Empty Night, how did their communications work? Were they using radio waves? Some sort of thaumaturgy? Something else?

Were they secure against the Fomor? The White Council?

The display was now showing a group of Fomor in parade-neat lines forming up out of the water on a park. There were the slimy octopus-ape hybrids, turtle-necked human servitors, lanky muscular humanoids, and groups of froggy-like Fomor themselves. All in blocks and under banners.

There were a handful of scattered human bodies. Mostly pushed to the side like so much detritus.

Then came the artillery strike. The first salvo cut most of them down. The next were even more accurate and cut through even more. A few of the Fomor mages put up wards and shields. I would like to think there was wild fear on their faces. That of an unknown killer that they could barely comprehend let alone stop, but the resolution was not good enough to make out their expressions.

And that's when I realized this was not some macabre display for our benefit.

The footage was from multiple angles, triangulating coordinates. The Fomor defenders, the Formor survivors had marked their positions. And were now hit by the third barrage. An entire cohort of Fomor had just been functionally obliterated

BlackStone sighed. "You said that's not going to get them all."

BloodMist shook her head "The front is too large. Even if we were willing to level every block that butted the waterfront, they'd still come through. The rubble would give them cover.

No, they're going to make landfall. If we had more time we could position our troops and fight them on the beaches, but then they'd be fighting with their back to the water, to their domain."

Dresden's eyes were flat. "They're going to get into the city."

"Daughter, you knew that; you knew that would happen with or without us."

"You could have landed your troops anywhere in the city, you could confront them on the shore."

"They would go around and flank us. Besides, it takes time to organize our forces. If AshRain can avoid a hot, contested landing straight into combat, especially for our heavy equipment, she will do that."

"She focused on the artillery..." BlackStone's hands clenched as the display zoomed back out. "She wanted to hurt them. But they'll still get through."

"Not without heavy losses," I said. "And you don't want to use up all of your munitions now, on targets that may not exist, instead of later when you're directly fighting them. Harry, this is the right move. It's terrible, but this is war."

BlackStone gave me a hurt look. As if she expected me to take her side.

BloodMist nodded. "Yes, and while attacking them now does let them know of some of our capabilities, and teach them to disperse and avoid traveling in the open in a dense mass. We are doing more than thinning their numbers.

"We are spoiling their attack, ruining their formations. Keeping your enemy from organizing in good order is vital. Their Landing Zones are under heavy bombardment, ours are not."

Freydis took the baton. "Right, they'd want to gather their forces and organize them for a push. They'll send out small raiding, scouting, probing attacks, but to hold land they'll need a large, coherent, group. And anytime they form up in neat parade rows they're at the risk of getting blasted." The Valkyrie gave a vicious smile. "And that means you can take apart their scouts."

"And we're pretty sure they don't have communications, not to the tactical level," I stated. "They'll have to spend more time on runners and coordinating distributed forces."

BlackStone frowned at all of us.

"You saw Ethniu, you know what she's like. You know her weaknesses, her pride, her inexperience. She'll order the Fomor to push through," BloodMist said. "She is going to get an education."

"And that's how you beat a numerically superior foe. You whittle them down in stages, you break them apart into separate units and kill them one at a time," I added. "And with my men providing translators and local scouts. Along with Marcone's men, we will have the advantage of home territory."

"The Chancellor of the White Court is correct," the Captain said, in a tone that indicated she took a bit of thought to not start that sentence with "even"

BloodMist gave her daughter her full attention. "We can drop you off here. If it is your wish to get them right now it will be granted. Mother would even send support with you. Like a Cohort or two.

"But such a salient, so close to the beaches, to their lines..."

"You'll get surrounded," Freydis said.

"It will help defend the Svartalf Embassy," the aide helpfully said. "By focusing the enemy's attention on you."

"Beyond encirclement, you will have the full wrath of Corb and the Titan." BloodMist's tail stilled. "Having a hardpoint like that right on their lines, would be a major thorn in their side. It is not a complete waste, it will buy time, and keep them from moving off the beach."

"Knowing Dresden, Corb and Ethniu will not be able to just bypass her," I added, appreciating the option they were giving the pouting princess. "She is annoying to her enemies in that way."

BlackStone's Mother nodded. "However, those attached to her will be volunteering for a forlorn hope."

The wizard seemed to deflate. "I can't put people in danger just because I want to stop something."

The captain quirked an eyebrow.

"Not just because. There has to be a reason, and sending people to die isn't much better if I'm there with them."

"A forlorn hope is not, technically a suicide mission," BloodMist stated. "A formation of Fomor with the Titan's support, or the other way around, will be formidable and high casualty. But you would have considerable air support and resupply."

"Yeah, well that's part of why I want to go to my island," BlackStone snapped then seemed to droop a bit more.

"Ah, you've secured some equipment, weapons, or other assets there?" BloodMist's eyes sparkled.

I frowned. It was easy to underestimate Dresden. Yes, she was stubborn and had a strong moral sense, but she was also... well Dresden. If it were anyone else I would assume her "clumsy succubus" thing was an act.

That said, Dresden was connected to that cursed island in some way. She had fought enough on it and used it to her advantage and claimed it. It was also where she had some means of protecting our brother.

And... she had secured things there. Wizards were frustrating like that. They would ferret out secrets and artifacts and hoard knowledge like a squirrel with nuts. Maybe after events such as a group of Necromancers trying to empower themselves, having to slay multiple Fairy Queens, and taking out the Red Court... maybe BlackStone... maybe Dresden started preparing.

We were on a demonic war-zeppelin due to her after all.

I glanced at BloodMist. She knew. Or that is to say she suspected. Hence this little flotilla.

I watched as the barrages moved to different Fomor concentrations. "You've made an incorrect assumption."

The captain looked skeptical, as if someone who did not have their experience could miss something. That I was some minor power with a negligible military force.

BloodMist however nodded to me. "You do live here."

I raised my arms to encompass the magically charged and assembled compartment, the airship, their whole fleet. "This is professional. You value your troops and will work to keep them alive. I'm sure your rivals do as well. If not for moral reasons the simple realpolitik that a Great House that has thrown away its military forces will cease to be a Great House."

I shook my head at the map. "The Fomor don't care; they'll sacrifice their minions, and they don't plan to stay in the field that long. And the titan doesn't care if all the Fomor die."

"Still... every Fomor killed trying to get off the beach is one less to fight in the city," Schetler countered.

I nodded to the captain. "And that's why you need to keep up the pressure. Don't think that you can break their will or get them to retreat. You can't have them be combat ineffective but still alive."

"Even the Fomor's human servants have been modified to put no value to their lives," BlackStone agreed.

BloodMist and the captain shared a look with some mix of subtle and not so subtle body language. They then went to the aide.

The almost-mousy-looking woman lifted her hands and with a soft pale green glow at her eyes many of the silver and gold circles and whorls on the walls and ceiling started to flare with antic light.

There was a series of exchanges that started simple and then BloodMist got involved and after maybe a minute the map in the table split.

One half was still a map, the other was a monochrome pale green projection of a prim woman in Legionary battle-dress. She looked to be in some sort of armored vehicle that was bouncing about. I caught the image of a few other officers and troops before the feed cuts to an image of just House Legate AshRain standing there.

Another of the Imperatrix's Daughters. I wondered what BlackSky herself was up to?

As was her wont, BlackStone gave some inane comment, something about us nearing the main power generator and a shield being down in moments.

BloodMist ignored that. "Sister, we've got confirmation. The Fomor won't break. They won't pull back and redeploy."

"Oh?" AshRain's tone was mild and she seemed to be splitting her attention between us and another conversation she was having without words.

"Legate, you saw Corb and Ethniu, do you think they care about their troops?" I asked.

"Well." AshRain's full attention was on me as she gave a sharp smirk. "Are you certain? The Council thought they might break and the Fae courts were non-committal. I was balancing between showing more of our cards to hit them harder or seeing if they would shatter under the current barrage."

"That won't work." I said. "Oh yes, those you kill will stay dead. Unless they have a necromancer. But they won't waste men caring for the wounded. They won't run because you've killed half their number. They'll reform shattered units. If only to avoid Ethniu's wrath, they'll keep fighting."

"She did seem prideful, inexperienced, and disdainful of machines," AshRain noted, and that distant expression was back. She was not ignoring us; she was giving orders.

"She is a being from another age. From a time more terrible than even you can imagine, with rampant magic and gods," I cautioned.

AshRain showed teeth. "Then we will give her an education in modern magical warfare. If she is willing to send her troops into a meat grinder, then we shall oblige."

BloodMist nodded. "Make the rubble bounce, Sister."

AshRain bowed her head. "Get what your daughter requires and get back. We need her and we need your expertise." AshRain said, "And we need you, Lady Raith."

I bowed my head to hers.

AshRain paused. "Oh, be careful over the water, I'm releasing the 42nd's corvettes and torpedo bombers and some other assets. They'll be depth charging using our stock of tridents and Galtines anything under the waves that looks funny. I recommend changing course to not get in the way"

BloodMist gasped. "Surely not..."

Her sister laughed. "Stars no. These are Madhu's Tridents. I don't believe Mother will authorize Shiva's. But please, do be careful, I leave you in Principales Zariah Magnus Schechter's hands. Good Luck." she stated before cutting the connection.

Oh. That last bit... that was... meant for me. Shiva's Trident also known as Trishula was a mighty weapon in mythology. One of three of Shiva's weapons. She was a goddess of creation and creativity, but also one with the moniker "the Destroyer". Created using matter from the sun, the actual Trishula severed Ganesha's original head.

And the demons used it to name a Torpedo, a Torpedo that required the authorization of their supreme leader to deploy.

If that was not blatant enough I thought of what other giant missiles were called "tridents"

The demons were telling me, in a deniable way, that....

Empty Night.

The DarkStar. I knew the stories. The tales of demonic invasions seemed less fanciful now. Less so the idea of BlackSky deciding to destroy an entire rival House in a pique of vengeance.

These demons were prideful and arrogant. Even Dresden had a bit of that when she returned. And DarkStar was insufferably, but adorably, prideful. And it seemed, in some ways, justified.

I was sure their troops were capable and professional and could be supported and deployed in good order. I was also sure that the various spying and recon they had done before the peace talks would serve them well.

But this was not their world, they were strangers here. No wonder they were working with Marcone's men and mine and took my advice over that of Winter and the White Council. The Fae and the Wizards were powerful, no doubt, but in many ways both were distant from the mortal world and the kind of war the Fomor had been fomenting.

But with the Trishulas... I was not certain that such weapons were even on the Battlecruiser DarkStar. It was an obvious platform, and well-defended. But perhaps they were kept on some anonymously smaller ship. Empty Night, a corvette could hold eight Torpedoes. How many Shiva's tridents did they really need?

I could imagine some little patrol craft in an out of the way area, crewed and guarded by troops especially loyal. But other than that the airship would ac perfectly normal, save that one or two, gotta have redundancy, if its Torpedoes could kill a city. I gave a crazed little laugh at the realization that one of those ubiquitous little corvettes was part of our formation.

It probably wasn't that one. I mean... we were going over water. It probably wasn't us.

"Lady Raith?" BloodMist politely asked, a bit of mirth in her tone.

From the horror in BlackStone's expression she had figured it out as well. The demons had brought weapons of mass destruction.

And the older demoness seemed proud of both of us.

"You are not nuking Chicago!" BlackStone shouted.

"I would rather hope not," BloodMist stated. "Given, my mother, several of my sisters and. oh yes, twenty thousand and rising Legionaries are down there. I would rather they not all die."

Dresden blinked and it took her a bit to process. We were in the sky and could escape. And I was certain that the rest of Dresden's family, save that stubborn old Scot, were being evacuated up to some airship.

"Daughter, the Eye of Balor is a magical weapon of mass destruction. It is in the hands of a petty but powerful being who thinks of us as ants. We need a contingency plan in case all others fail."

"And that's using magic nukes of your own?" BlackStone waspishly asked.

Her mother gave a toothy grin. "No. BlackStone, that's you. You are our contingency plan."

I managed to keep my composure. And it would be my job to make sure the wizard did not fail.


End Part 4

 

From PlayerError404 we have this wonderful sequence of Optio Gibbs helping Tauria into her Polxyo RP Suit.


Step 1:


Step 2:



Step 3:


Step 4:


Step 5:


Whole Sequence:

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I really like this sequence as it shows the weight of a Ritual Plate suit and between Tauria's expressions and how the completed suit looks, I think it really shows a great setup of the concept.

 

From ScittyKitty we have this great pic of Visha, VioletBlood, and Tauria ( It seems the 2 Vs by some means managed to get Tauria into one of her outfits from back when she and VioletBlood were in a ballet troupe.

Or maybe it's a custom ballerina outfit. Either way the countess is not too pleased.

Fullsize​

I've got some good news as well. Ch16 has been written (~15k words) and I'm going over it and having it be edited as we speak.

 

And now some art!

We've got a piece of VioletBlood showing off Tauria's new maid



The outfits aren't quite how things happened in the chapter, but there's plenty of time for them to dress up and for LoveBlood to tease her countess.


Next we have a variant with Reinhild offering some advice to a nervous Tauria




Now this one is another detailing of Ritual Plate. This time with Tauria having her suit checked out by her whole Ritualista team.



Going counter clockwise from Optio Suzette Gibbs (upper left) we have: Flavia, Laurentia, and IvoryTail.

 

I've got two pieces of a common theme for this story. Namely: Tauria's adoptive mother dresses her youngest daughter up in something frilly much to Tauria's chagrin.

First we have a wonderful piece from Lexikimble (warning some possible risque content)



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And then from FieryJinx we have this amazing sequence (and this is one I really recommend looking at in full size to appreciate all the details and expressions.



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So a few updates:

• Ch17 is progressing at about 3k words.
• I have an omake for another Tanya cross that is at about the same length and some of you may enjoy that when it comes up.
• I've also gone though an update, edit project for Little Demon, all the previous 16 chapters have been cleaned up and made a bit more readable with some typo and other corrections. So that'll make reading the story better.
• And for the Return (a story set in the same world as this one) I've finally posted chapter 5 of Book 6 Bonding Allure which can be read here.
• Finally there's some new art from PlayerError 404

We've seen plenty of art of Duchess SilverFlight dressing her adoptive daughter up much to Tauria's frustration and annoyance. But we have not seen her other mother Sister Clementia indulge nearly as frequently. Here we see them sharing a memorial ceremony, I don't see why Tauria is so worried, this is a good sign!

 

So, this is the start of a multi-chapter future-set sidestory that may or may not be canon, kind of up to Sunny here. This stars a pair of other Diyu demons.

Without further ado,

Knight Sirens

Chapter One

Go faster, sis. We need to outrun them. I sent over our telepathic link as I weaved through the trees in an attempt to ditch our pursuers. We would have used our suit comms, but our telepathy was far more secure. Trees to my right, trees to the left, and above, my older sister in a similar rig, matching my speed. Her wings stretched as wide as mine did as we jetted through the forest, our zephyrs pushing themselves to their limits. I checked the sensors, and there were even more closing in on our position.

Outrun them? They’ve got us surrounded, Frost. It’s a plague. Her worry rippled through our link, and there was a growl to her ‘voice’ that I could hear. I worried too. The suits we were in weren’t equipped for combat, especially not with an unknown enemy force. Whatever these things were, they seemed to be nothing but rage and something far, far worse. Normally, emotions are easy to identify. Everything feels something that maps to a normal emotive spectrum except for those beings that are really just wrong. There really were only so many ways emotions could be configured in a living being. But whatever these things were, their emotions had been stripped bare, leaving just what we felt. I couldn’t even begin to guess what that worse thing was, save for what I felt at the pit of my stomach.

I’ve got an idea. I tucked my body in, pulling my feathered wings around me, even encased by the suit’s enhancements, and I dug my clawed toes into one of the trees, slowing almost instantly to a stop. This maneuver hurt, even with the zephyrs helping dampen the stop, but it was necessary to be able to pull off any sort of win here. Sure, the custom suit had its upsides, but I knew the ritualista would be upset with me when I returned for dinging up their (my) suit. We can’t run, BlackFire. You know it. We can’t hide. Given our lack of onboard weapons, fighting them is probably suicidal. There’s only one option.

Where are you going with this? My sister peeled off her flight and perched on a branch near me as we looked upon the cloud of creatures approaching. They were demons, certainly, yet not of a rival House. They weren’t from Diyu at all, really, and nothing in my education or training covered what they might be. They were masculine with mouths full of sharp fangs, unburdened by lips. Within their gaping maws, a glowing orange light nested. Their eyes were bulbous, sticking out the sides of their head.

We jump, I sent. There was only one real option. These suits were too valuable to let fall into any sort of enemy hands, and I didn’t want to make a sacrifice play. We needed to leave this area, get away from the demonic swarm. I can hold them off while you get the way open. Hurry.

We’re nowhere near our rendezvous point, Frost. We have no clue where we’ll end up.

Anywhere is better than here. I drew my sword with my left hand, and I gathered my power in my right. Cold, dark shadows coalesced around my claws, and underneath my visor, I bared my teeth. These things had no clue what they were about to face. We were a species that was constantly underestimated. I switched to vocalizing aloud. “Hey! You demonic pretenders! Come and get me, if you dare!”

I was unsure if they understood me, so I took advantage of the linguistics training I took over the past few years in Fleet, and I repeated myself in four other languages. I must have hit something that they knew, or they just decided on their own, because they started spiraling down toward me. I flourished my blade in anticipation. Whatever these things were, they were going to bleed. They were going to die. As my sister prepped the jump portal, I adjusted the sensory suite to record. I’d be fine because of her. My Zephyrs practically sang in anticipation of what was coming.

“Come on!”

The first demon dive-bombed me, and I pushed off the tree, swiveling around so I could slash at it with my blade, Shiro. Most pilots don’t bother wearing a blade, but my sister and I both carried. Most pilots never even considered them necessary, but this was one of the situations where carrying them was right. The holy sword sliced through the demon’s body, leaving a trail of green fire and spewing ichor. I bared my fangs, and followed up with a slash of my claws toward the next demon. Unlike many of my Fleetmates, my flames didn’t burn. They froze. They sprung forth from icy shadows, and they sprung forth from the tip of Shiro as I swung him. I unleashed a wave of fire, ice and shadow onto the first group of creatures, igniting several, but more were on their way.

“Any time now,” I said, curling my right talons and dragging more shadows out toward them. “I’m not sure how long I can keep this up…”

“Nag, nag, little sister,” said BlackFire. “There’s protocols for this sort of thing. You know them. You’ve memorized them. We could end up anywhere.”

“Better than here,” I said, unleashing another burst of ice and shadow, following with a cutting blast from Shiro. This was far more draining than if the Ritual Plate had their weaponry built-in. Just because we’d been trained to fight without the suits didn’t mean we liked doing it. I jumped at another demon, driving Shiro into its bulbous eye, and then I kicked it. “Better than being swarmed by these things.”

“Could end up swarmed by something else,” she said, but her power surged. Magic, our kind of magic, was very will-based, and we studied to perfect it.

I brought my free hand to join my left at Shiro’s hilt, and I sneered as I gathered shadows and ice. The zephyrs in my armor trilled, clearly interested in what I was about to do, and I didn’t dare to disappoint. I seeded the sky with my shadows, cold, and I drew the heat from below, creating differing charged air. Physics took hold.

One of the demons seemed to yell something almost intelligible, but it didn’t finish as lightning struck my sword, then got redirected toward it. A wave of electric energy, wrapped in my icy flames, slammed into several approaching demons. It knocked many of them from the sky with frozen over or paralyzed wings, but the cloud of them only got darker. More lightning struck above as they swarmed.

I landed next to my sister, panting, resting a hand against the trunk of the tree. That had taken a lot out of me. “Get it open now! I don’t like our odds against a million of those things.”

“The protocols…”

“Bypass them,” I said. “We can’t let them get these suits.” Or us.

“Fine, got it,” BlackFire said, and she drove her claws into the air, and she pulled a portal open. This wasn’t the normal Fleet jump style, but we didn’t have time for doing those calculations manually. A cylindrical opening formed in reality, slowly taking the shape of a door-sized portal. We saw buildings on the other side, skyscrapers, and it had to be better than here. “Go, now, FrostShadow. I can’t keep holding it open. There’s something on the other side, blocking.”

“You need to come with,” I said.

“Always,” she said, and I pushed off the branch after letting off a final blast of icy shadows. This one was more to obscure us than deal any damage. I dove through the portal, closely followed by my older sister, each of us uncaring of what would be found on the other side. Whatever it was, it was better than here.

**********************************

Cities are rarely completely dark, even at night. Silvana, the city we grew up in, is no exception, even with the exceptional night vision of the majority of its residents. The city that my sister and I ended up in on the other side of the jump portal, however, seemed dark even with our night vision. It was uninviting, like the city itself didn’t want you there, nor did it care how you would leave. The lights that were there glared angrily down on the street corners, their rage-filled gaze causing them to flicker like an out-of-control disco ball. Too many were out, as it were, and the dark streets felt off, even from as high up as we were.

The buildings were extremely gothic in design with some art deco, even for a city designed by humans. For this city certainly was designed by humans, given the sheer soullessness of some of its construction. It simultaneously resembled buildings we’d seen in versions of New York, Chicago, and Toronto all at once. Wherever we were, obviously was none of those cities. BlackFire and I flew over the rooftops, taking the scrying intake with our Gorgon Rigs, looking for anything familiar. The city’s darkness was oppressive, and it almost seemed to be there in the composited maps we were building up . There was an aura that the city held, one of rage, fear, and a lack of sanity, with only a hint of light fighting back the darkness. The two of us were far from home, yet something about this place was familiar.

None of those demons that had been chasing us had managed to follow through BlackFire’s portal, and there wasn’t anything that shared that sort of signature anywhere nearby. There was something to the north side of the city, an area that read as high in magic relating to death, and there were certainly humans capable of using magic within the city. We circled one of the taller buildings twice, keeping our Veils up to put us out of sight of any visible watchers or cameras that were picked up by our rigs, and then we landed on the building’s rooftop. Well, to be more accurate, BlackFire landed on the rooftop, and I took up residence on the edge of the building, perching next to a stone gargoyle.

Something about this city seemed deeply familiar, though I knew that none of the Earths that BlackFire and I had been to with the Fleet had a city like this. At least, we hadn’t been to the city like this.

“So, we landed on an Earth,” BlackFire said as she walked up behind me. “I don’t think we’ve been to this one before.”

I shrugged and I swapped to a more mundane mode on my Gorgon Rig’s scrying. Someone on the development team had suggested expanding the radio signals we could pick up and the processing modes would be useful for any infiltration force, and our Ritualista had agreed to make those modifications. We did have plenty of examples of various “earth standard” broadcast protocols. s. I was able to identify several broadcast radio signals, each overlapping on my helmet’s interface, but I hadn’t chosen to isolate any of them. I was tempted to look beyond the shielding that my suit and training provided for my empathy and unleash it on the city, but… Even through the shields, I could feel it. “This is an English-speaking city, or at least a language that is close to it. And… well, there’s something… the people…”

“They’re scared, angry or both,” BlackFire said. “I feel it too, Frost. Something is wrong here, and I can’t even figure out what. This city’s got issues.”

“Issues on top of issues,” I said, looking out over the city. A spotlight from a nearby roof drew my eye to the sky, and I blinked. “That… might be a clue of sorts.”

“What do you..?” BlackFire followed my pointing finger. “Oh. Are we sure that someone’s not celebrating something?”

“Or filming something?” I shrugged. The searchlight in the sky shone brightly, projecting an image of a familiar symbol, one all too familiar. In Cadet School, someone had snuck in some translated comic books imported from one or two Earths, and our whole Flight ended up doing a few movie nights with subtitles regarding this very item. We even managed to find a smaller opera house in Silvana that was running a production, though they had taken a few liberties with the localization; for one, male ballet dancers were a hot commodity. The symbol had two prongs for the ears and spread wings in black upon the lit background. “... I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I think we’re in Gotham city.”

“The between is supposed to connect to many different Earths, in addition to Diyu, but…” BlackFire shook her head. “I didn’t think this would be possible. The Catographer’s Guild will want to talk with us when we get back. There’s worse places we could have ended up, and worse times. Imagine us showing up in Metropolis, fresh from that portal. In daylight.”

We wouldn’t have had time to camouflage. Here, we did, but by being on the roof and not being out in public, we didn’t outright need to. Not yet, anyway.

“I am less worried about the big guy than some of his villains,” I said. Then I cocked my head. My Gorgon Rig alerted me to two signals approaching from upwind moving fast up the side of the building. Humans, determined ones, moving quicker than normal. Clearly, they were using tools. The two pulled over the side of the building, landing on the roof, and their smell wafted over on the breeze. Some of it was tied to their emotional state as well. The rig detected several weapons on their persons along with analyzing one to be older, maybe between early adulthood and middle age, while the younger was a teenager. Both were determined people, and the younger felt… giddy? Interesting. Company.

I know, Frost. I got them detected too. The two of us turned toward them, each grinning under our helmets. It wasn’t every day that you got to meet genuine superheroes. Not that they’d be able to see our grins behind our closed helms.

Two dark figures slipped from within the shadows, and even with the good night vision we had, it was tough to make them out or get a good look at them until they were completely in view. The Gorgon Rig in our suits kept us aware of where they were the entire time, but they were very good at using the shadows to hide their approach. When we finally got a good look at them, it took nearly all my willpower to not make a gleeful noise. I had read many an imported book about this pair and seen a few films.

Batman was almost required reading in our first flight in the Household Fleet. I blamed our first Primus Centurion for that, primarily. All the movies and drawings couldn’t compare to the human in front of us. Batman was taller than my sister, even without counting the pointed ears in the cowl that hid his eyes so well. He felt like he towered over me. His suit was gray and armored with a black bat sigil over his chest, yet there was no yellow background to it. He also had his utility belt on his waist along with a long black cape that draped down his back.

His companion was Nightwing, surprisingly. He wore a black bat-shaped domino mask to cover his eyes, and he wore a black suit with a blue bird sigil on the front. He was younger than I expected, barely looking older than me, far younger than I would have expected him to be if he was wearing that costume.

“Well, that’s a new sight,” Nightwing said in English as he approached. He stuck close to Batman, even if we could tell he felt the urge to do something more. “I almost wish KF were here. I’m sure he’d make some interesting comments about the two of you ladies. You are ladies, correct?”

KF? Huh. I wondered if that was short for Kid Flash. Maybe a teammate from when he was on the Titans? It had been some time since I’d managed to acquire any comics with Nightwing in them. They were all imports and thus a bit expensive. He certainly looked somewhere between BlackFire and I in age, but he could have been younger than me.

I cocked my head to the side, and my tail swished behind me. English was not one of my strong languages. It could get confusing at times. Especially with contractions. “One would think that someone who studies under a person that dresses up like a bat to fight crime would have little room to judge.”

“Who are you?” Batman’s voice came out a little on the rougher side, like he was pitching his natural voice down a little. However, he wasn’t using any technology to change it. Likely he used a different persona when he was out of the costume to better differentiate himself from his costumed self. He didn’t sound angry, and a bit of suspicious curiosity came off his emotional aura, even if it didn’t appear in his voice.

“I’m BlackFire,” my sister said, and then she gestured to me. “And this is my little sister, FrostShadow.”

“And you are the Batman and the Nightwing, caped crusaders,” I said. “I am certain that you have far better things to deal with this evening than us.”

“Perhaps,” Batman said, and despite his eyes being covered, I got the feeling that he was looking us over. It was a little uncomfortable for us to be unable to meet our eyes, but who knew what we’d end up seeing? “You are costumed and in Gotham, and you’re new. For what purpose?”

I frowned under my helmet. With the faceplate down, he wouldn’t be able to see my face, but I made sure to keep my tail still. “It was not our intention to come to this city. We were testing some new equipment, mapping some new travel routes and overshot our destination.”

“We intend no harm to anyone in this city, Batman,” BlackFire said. “As my sister said, we had no intention to even come here. We knew of this city, but we had not ever planned on coming here.”

Mostly because we didn’t know that it actually existed on an Earth somewhere. Most of the Earths we had interacted with simply had this as a comic book. It was curious. I was not looking forward to the debriefings where our suit’s logs would be dissected.

Batman studied us for a second, and it felt similar to being looked at by a Tribune. It was all I could do to not preen under the gaze, to try and make myself seem even more approachable. Was it wrong to want to look good for a superhero like this one? He had a presence to him that was just raw intimidation, and even knowing he was completely human, I had no doubts that he would stand strong against anything thrown at him.

In reality, he would be a very good one of us, were it to happen. Maybe that little opera wasn’t so outlandish.

“And just what were your plans for the equipment?”

“In the most generic of terms, transfer the data to the research teams, who would then translate it into upgrades for future production models,” BlackFire said. “The production models would then be used to protect our people and the interests of our state.”

Batman nodded, and then he frowned. My sister and I tilted our heads slightly. Our hearing is far better than that of humanity, not to mention our Gorgon Rigs had audio processing in addition to the other intakes, so we could hear the voice in his ear. An older man with an English accent was speaking over the crackling radio.

“Sir, Commissioner Gordon is waiting. It’s the Joker, sir,” said the voice that could only be the Wayne family butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Involuntarily, I shuddered. Of course, if we were in Gotham City with Batman and Nightwing in front of us, the Clown Prince of Crime was real too. As fun as reading about his escapades could be, the idea of a real Joker did not sit well with me.

“Hey, the two of you all right?” Nightwing asked. He gave us a grin, showing his fangs a little. Teeth. Not fangs. Humans didn’t have any. “You look a little discombobulated right now.” He suddenly turned contemplative. “I’m going to need you to get nice and combobulated.”

“... What does that even mean?” I asked. “Is that a real word?”

“No, Frost, it isn’t,” BlackFire said. “It’s not a thing.”

“Is so,” Nightwing said with an even smugger grin. “I just made it one.”

“Enough,” Batman said. “Nightwing, head toward the police station. BlackFire, FrostShadow, I assume you can fly in those things?’

“Yes,” we said in unison.

“Good,” Batman said. “We can continue our conversation later, but in the meantime, I want you to follow us. Stay back and away. Jim doesn’t need to know about you yet, and I have more questions. However, the Joker needs to be stopped.”

He didn’t give us a chance to respond. He simply ran and jumped off the building, his cape fluttering in the wind, and Nightwing followed him. Mere seconds later, we heard shots fire, and as we looked over the building, we saw the two Caped Crusaders each swinging along a grappling line. Impressive.

“They certainly seemed human,” BlackFire said, returning to our native tongue. “But then they go and do something like that.”

I shrugged. “They’re heroes. Peak human condition, right? Imagine if they were like us.”

BlackFire’s tail swished, and she spun up her RP. I did the same, and we flew off after them. This time, instead of going overtop of the buildings, we flew between them, keeping just enough distance back that we could follow Batman and NIghtwing as they moved.

It was interesting. Batman’s movement seemed to be the most like a Diyu demon not wearing any sort of RP. He spent half of his time between swings using his cape to glide. He hung on the air about as well as the average one of us. His cape behaved a lot more like my sister’s wings.

Nightwing, on the other hand, did far more acrobatics in his movement. He would push off the buildings, grab onto handrails and swing, but even he had some wingsuit properties to his costume, some webbing between his arms and his legs that only seemed to appear when it caught the air. It was truly an interesting sight to watch.

I made sure that I was getting as much information as I could with my Gorgon Rig, while also taking advantage of my suit’s feeding options. I was still hungry after expending that energy against those demons that existed between.

The two of them landed on the edge of the police station roof, and my sister and I hovered over a nearby building. We could hear the people on that roof quite clearly. Something seemed off about one of the men, a suited one wearing a hat,, but I couldn’t tell from this angle. I started running some scrying with the Gorgon Rig on him.

“Gordon, we’re here,” Batman said. “What’s going on?”

“It’s the Joker, Batman,” said an older man’s voice, but while the voice came from the man that drew my attention, it didn’t come from his mouth. It came from something in his pocket, a tape recorder? His hands were in there, manipulating something. His companions seemed nervous, but they were looking down.

“I’ve been informed,” said Batman, stepping closer to the man. His hands were at his belt, and at this distance, I got a feeling of resignation off of him. Had he realized something was off about the older man as well? “Where is he?”

“I’m surprised, Bats, truly I am,” said the man, his voice different this time. This was his voice, and as he turned, my sister and I tensed. The man had a white face, almost the pallor some Diyu demons had, green hair, yellowed eyes, and for some reason a painted-on grin that looked anything but happy. This was the Joker, and what I felt from him was a sense of murderous glee. “You’re usually much quicker on the uptake than this.”

It was surprising how quickly Batman made it across the rooftop to lift Joker by his lapels. “I already asked you once, Joker. Where. Is. He? Where’s Gordon?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about old Jim,” Joker siad. “You’d be better off worrying about your not-so-little sidekick anymore. What was his name again? Some little bird? It’s a Thursday, after all, and I wouldn’t want him to take ill.”

The Joker let off a maniacal laugh, and warnings blared on my sensors. A large source of necromantic energy was detected, and a large meaty fist reached up through the building’s roof to grab Nightwing. How? How had that thing managed to stay hidden so well until now? Yes, we hadn’t been scrying specifically for it, but surely we would have felt… oh.

Emotion is more or less a universal thing to an empath. Emotions, for most beings, all come down to feeling the same way. Joy feels like joy, sadness like sadness, arousal like arousal, no matter the species. I’ve met spirits, demons, humans, and many other things in between, and each of them have had the same basis for their emotions. They just had ever so slightly different flavors, if you will. It’s not usual that anyone can surprise us with feelings that far out of the norm, and it usually came from those either severely impaired with drug use or with minds so alien that their feelings are more color than anything else. I swear, once I met a being who quite literally felt purple, of all things.

This thing. This massive undead creature, had feelings so dull that they faded to background noise. If it had any sort of actual feeling to it, it was muffled by everything, by the fact that it was already dead. A zombie, of sorts.

“Born on a Monday… Christened on Tuesday…” Joker laughed again. “Say hello to Solomon Grundy!”

Grundy roared, and my sister and I had already taken to the air. Batman tossed some sort of explosive at the arm that held Nightwing just as electricity arced across the arm. Nightwing must have had some sort of electrical prod. The hand spasmed, dropping NIghtwing, who rolled away before the explosives struck. The resultant explosion blew the hulking zombie off the roof and slamming him into a wall.

As the smoke cleared, Solomon Grundy became visible, and my sister and I scanned him with our Gorgon Rigs. Targeting data came up on the display which was helpful but utterly useless at the moment. Gray skin, two and a half meters tall, and made entirely of coiled muscle. There were parts rotting within him, held together by some sort of necromantic energies that were both magical and nonmagical. Confusing, to say the least. He had white hair, wore a torn suit jacket and trousers cut off at the knees. It reminded me of the poem, which my mother had read to me when I was little.

I shook my head. Joker had even quoted it and referenced a later line in the nursery rhyme.

We should help, I sent my sister. What I got back from her was an irritated feeling coupled with some sarcasm.

Of course, the Ritual Plate we wore were test suits. Which meant that they were unarmed. Normally, in Ritual Plate combat, we would use our weapons and attack from range, taking out whatever unlucky enemy failed to dodge out of the way of the attack. There rarely was any sort of reason to get up close and personal. We were Fleet Pilots, not infantry. The Imperial Legions had their ground pounders, we were Fleet. However, after a Legionary Flier Countess had the unlucky experience of being forced to fight in an unarmed Ritual Plate a few years back, the Fleet added some trainings on what to do if you were in a situation where either your weapons were disabled or you were flying an unarmed suit. And that was after the Legions had put in their own program.

Pilots were often better prepared than they thought. Given the magical talent necessary to even be able to operate the suit’s systems and their air spirits, Pilots could often repurpose some of that power for other reasons. The Verutum launcher was a prime example of a weapon system that used more of a Pilot’s magical skills.

My sister and I were on the higher end of that aptitude curve, so we had offensive spells to back up additional physical activities, as we demonstrated on those additional demons earlier. They just lacked the range and dedicated power that the normal weaponry would have on a Ritual Plate. Of course, this did require dumping a lot of power into evocation type spells or attacks, something we were not especially adept in. The remaining power in our suits was going to be a concern in a matter of hours. Our skills were far better utilized in observation and fine detail work, which was a large part of why we ended up on this operation to begin with.

Still. I wanted to see if we could pull off being superheroes. And as much as my Ritualista would hate me for it, there was something I could do without burning a whole lot of power.

My sister had the same idea.

We slammed into a growling Solomon Grundy, using a burst of power to increase our speed and lift to get the overly large zombie out of the wall. I turned my head toward Batman and Nightwing. “Deal with the Joker, we’ll handle the zombie!”

Friction was overcome, and Grundy went flying onto the ground four stories below. My sister and I followed, circling around him as he climbed to his feet.

“Hard to believe he got married on a Wednesday,” BlackFire said in English. If we weren’t flying around, I was sure her tail would be swishing.

“Grundy not like you!” said the hulking thing, clearly a little woozy.

“That’s your own problem,” BlackFire said, sneering. Her claws lit up with the blackened flames of her namesake. She dove at him, raking burning claws as she passed him by across his chest. Grundy howled in what had to be pain. “We’re perfectly likable!”

I followed my sister’s dive with one of my own, but I shifted mid-air to a kicking motion, reversing the thrust of my RP to aid my kick. My talons dug into his chest when I struck, forcing him back half a meter. Shadows gathered at my talons, and I pushed off him, leaving a frozen wound in the overly large zombie. This was a supervillain fight. Banter was important. But I needed to do it in English. He wouldn’t understand Silvan. “Come on you big dumb ugly… man thing. Show me what you can do!”

Grundy snarled, and in the process, he released a wave of… something that distorted my vision and sensors. That… was not expected. In the least. The zombie charged me, leaping into the air, and I banked to his side, hoping to avoid any sort of charge. His ham-sized fist slammed into me mid-maneuver, sending me hurtling through the air. I slammed into the concrete wall of the nearby police station and crumpled down the wall until I landed on the ground.

Ow.

This was why a certain Countess’s lecture on melee combat in Ritual Plate started with “Don’t” before going into how to do it if you had no other choice.

“Frost!” BlackFire slammed her hands together, and then she brought them apart, forming a bow made of black flames. She snarled out an incantation in what sounded like Luxon, and she launched an arrow of flames from the bow.

A wave of fire sizzled its way into Grundy before he could hit the ground. It blew him off his feet with an accompanying concussive blast, and the smell of long pork filled the area as his skin cooked in the fire. BlackFire followed up by launching another arrow.

I took a deep breath as the world stopped spinning, and I glared at Grundy. I gathered shadows around me, folding and molding them. I shaped them into a lance, and I reared my arm back, throwing them at the hulking zombie. The lance struck true, driving further into Grundy’s chest, and he howled in pain.

The gray-skinned behemoth jumped at my sister once more, and he caught her tail in his big meaty hooks. He squeezed down, and I snarled, readying to launch another lance, but he swung my sister at me. She did her best to slow herself, but we collided, sprawling out onto the ground, edged up against a police cruiser. Grundy attempted to follow up, chasing toward us. An explosion and burst of smoke intercepted him. My sister and I glanced at the source.

Nightwing saluted with an escrima stick, and we climbed to our feet. I glanced down to assess the damage, internally wincing. I was going to get an earful from Augusta, our crew chief, about damage to the RP, but it would be worth it.

Still, this fight had gone on longer than necessary. My sister and I moved in lockstep as Grundy snarled at us once more. Drawing on a familiar power source, one that I was certain should not have been accessible in these suits, my sister and I each leveled a hand at the oncoming zombie man, splayed out our fingers, and then we pointed. With a snarled incantation, we used one of the strongest evocations in our arsenal, combining them with our natural abilities. Twin razor-tipped cyclones erupted from our pointed fingers, each one sheathed in our respective namesakes. Then, the cyclones combined into a single cyclone of shadow, ice, and flame. We were BlackFire and FrostShadow, and we would demonstrate why we had those names.

Our cyclones struck true, carving their way through the hulking zombie’s torso, cleaving it in twain. We shifted slightly, and we finished quartering him before beheading him completely. After he dropped to the ground, in pieces, we fed on the ambient energies released from the zombie’s second death. Perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps it was less. The energy helped to restore what we had lost in the fight against him and the demons we’d faced earlier.

“And that was the end of Solomon Grundy,” I said, raising my hand once more to gather the parts into a pile. Getting rid of the remains seemed appropriate, and my sister clearly agreed as she raised her own hands.

“Wait,” Batman said authoritatively as he landed nearby. BlackFire and I cocked our heads slightly. “Don’t burn Grundy’s remains. He should be returned to his proper resting place, Slaughter Swamp. I can make arrangements for that to happen.”

“Slaughter Swamp, hmm?” I asked. “Such wonderful names you have for places here in Gotham,” I said, relaxing a little. “I hope that they are not all like that.”

Nightwing made a shrugging motion after he landed. “No, not really. Some names are just wonder-less. Those are just plain boring. Nothing happens there at all.”

“Nightwing,” Batman said in a cautionary tone, and the former Boy Wonder stepped back a couple times. “Where are the two of you staying?” He asked, looking at us.

I looked around. “What about the Joker?”

“On his way to Arkham as we speak,” Batman said. “But that doesn’t answer the question, FrostShadow.”

“We just arrived in the city,” BlackFire said. “And on your world. We don’t have--”

Batman held up a hand. “You’re coming with us, then.” He pressed a button on his belt, and a dark black motor vehicle drove up to us. I was hesitant to call it a car, but it was long and wide, with two spoilers that resembled bat wings on the back. There was apparently some sort of jet engine-like exhaust that was below where the trunk would be, and the top of the vehicle slid off, revealing two seats.

“There is no way that thing seats four,” I said. This iteration of the car, the Batmobile, appeared to be a two-seater, after all, but it looked so cool. If it weren’t for my RP, I’d be willing to sit in my sister’s lap for the duration of the ride though.

Luckily, Batman was prepared. He raised his right gauntlet and pressed two buttons that seemed almost blended into it. Hydraulic noises came from the Batmobile as the superpowered car expanded. It lengthened a little over a meter and widened by slightly less. The glass covering slid and separated, revealing enough room to seat four humans comfortably. “A little forward planning never hurts. The two of you can fold your wings in, correct?”

I wrapped my wings around me, even covered with the Ritual Plate’s armoring, my dark down feathers were soft against my skin. I would have hidden my wings, but the armored parts of the suit were not currently designed to hide the same way, and it was more efficient to keep them out than to try and re-suit them. BlackFire copied me. We also calmed our Zephyr and to have them spool down the suit’s systems as the air spirts cooled off and went quiescent.

Nightwing did a hand-flip into the passenger seat of the vehicle, and he patted behind him on the seat. “Come on in, you two!”

I smiled. You can really tell he comes from a family of gymnasts.

Wonder how he’ll try and keep the route hidden, BlackFire sent back as the two of us climbed into the back seat. We curled our tails around us to make the seating even more comfortable.

Once Batman settled into the driver’s seat, he looked back at the two of us and frowned. Our faceplates covered our faces completely, even if they were shaped into approximations of similar faces. “Blindfolds aren’t an option here. We’ll have to talk more when we get to our destination.”

Even with blindfolds our suits had navigation systems that would give us a fair idea of where we had traveled. Which Batman likely suspected, and he probably was pondering a way to defeat them.

He flipped a switch and the roof slid back into place. BlackFire dipped her head a little bit to avoid her horns scratching the vehicle’s roof. Two more switches had the windows around us turn opaque and dark.

Nightwing looked back at us. “Sorry. We just need to keep where we’re going a secret. “

“We understand,” I said. “But where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe,” Batman said. “It won’t be long. Relax.”

He flipped one more switch, and a divider rose between the two rows of seats, equally as opaque and dark. Of course, neither of them had any way of knowing that the scrying suites on our suits was as detailed as they were. We weren’t going to outright tell him either. We bet he had his suspicions, but there was no reason to confirm them.

Then the glass had a current running through it. Not enough that it would cause physical problems, but enough that it would cause interference with electromagnetic detection. Smart. Of course, Gorgon Rigs worked primarily on magical and thaumaturgical scrying. The electrification would have agitated the Zephyrs if we weren’t focused on keeping them calm here. They knew we were calm, so that helped with them as well.

The Batmobile started moving, and I smiled. How much do you think that Jocasta would be jealous of us here?

She’s your friend, Frost, BlackFire sent. She shook her head and looked out the opaque window. Our masks could adjust some for the darkening, letting us see beyond, albeit in a shadowed manner. But she’s taller than me. Her horns might be scraping the ceiling.

I shrugged. If Neira had her way, our horns would be too. Which would be even more awkward for me. Outside the window, the outlines of the buildings were more visible than their details. Still, the iconic W of Wayne Tower glittered in the distance. Gotham City certainly was a sight to behold, from ground level or as we saw it when we arrived. There’s no way we’re headed to the main cave.

Wouldn’t even bet against that, BlackFire responded. We’re unknowns here. We also killed Solomon Grundy. Who was oddly filling. That was a lot of energy off of him.

I nodded. Might be enough to keep him down for good. And it’s not even Saturday, according to Joker.

Blackfire snorted. Still possible that he ends up rising from Slaughter Swamp.

I shrugged, and then the Batmobile made a sharp turn toward a building. The street physically rose up before us, revealing a ramp downward into a tunnel. Yes, definitely not the main cave.

Pity we don’t really know the details about the auxiliary ones that well, BlackFire said. That was more BlitzFlame’s thing than ours.

The ramp led to some sort of underground bridge, and there was something further that caused the Gorgon Rig’s sensors to glitch out. I couldn’t tell what we were crossing save for that it went very far down. Another hydraulic door opened ahead of us, and we drove into… somewhere. Once the door closed behind us, the windows on the Batmobile grew more transparent, revealing the cave beyond.

This auxiliary Batcave clearly was some sort of secondary training facility used by the Batclan. Tubes along the wall held spare costumes for both Nightwing and Batman, should one of them need to change. There were even a few Robin costumes in some of the tubes, some clearly too small for Nightwing himself. Curious. Perhaps there was another Robin already? A large computer lined one of the walls, and placed precariously on a pedestal above the ground nearby was a very large penny. Strange. Though, to be fair, the weirdest thing in the room was the long ringed hallway that was on the wall opposite the computer. Interesting.

“Oh, that seems to be a teleporter,” BlackFire said. “I didn’t know they had that sort of technology available here.”

I would have cocked an eyebrow at my sister at that moment, but my face was covered. Instead she simply felt my indignation. Really?

Her smirk was palpable. We’re alien to them here. He already knows that, and we do come from a far more advanced society. Humans lock up their criminals and don’t bother to reform them. This place is even notorious for it.

Still… I shook my head. Yes, House BlackSky was far more civilized than most human societies, and this Earth especially had some interesting proclivities with how their criminals failed to reform. Still, this wasn’t Diyu. We couldn’t criticize it too much. It wasn’t like it was our place. I suppose we can play it up.

BlackFire’s tail swished some. She probably even flashed some fang, but our suits covered our faces completely. The Batmobile came to a complete stop, and the roof retracted, letting us stand and stretch out our wings.

“Welcome to the Batcave,” Nightwing said. “You aren’t overwhelmed are you? Just the right amount of whelmed?”

I tilted my head at the Boy Wonder. “Suppose you could say that. This is impressive. Why bring us here?”

“You said you have nowhere else to say,” Batman said as he got out and opened the doors for us to do the same. BlackFire and I walked out of the Batmobile, and the platform the car was parked on lowered, and there was a mechanical whirring that shut a platform overtop of it. That certainly was impressive both in the technological achievement and the funding this must have taken to have those gadgets available. “You’re new to Gotham, to Earth, and your suits were damaged in the fight with Grundy.”

“You two showed him!” Nightwing said encouragingly. “Grundy’s down and out.”

“What about your police commissioner?” I asked, tilting my head. “Did you manage to find him? Shouldn’t you be looking for him?”

Batman’s lips quirked into a smile for the briefest of seconds. I doubted many humans would be able to catch that microexpression. “That’s a part of why we’re here as well. Follow.”

He turned and we could practically feel Nightwing roll his eyes behind his domino mask. “Come on, ladies, let’s go to the Bat-Computer.”

“...is everything Bat-something?” BlackFire asked. “I mean, do you have something like Bat-Shark Repellant or anything like that? Bat-Bats?”

Nightwing snorted. “Actually, I think there’s a design for the first one in the computer. There’s a metahuman known as King Shark that I think Batman used it on once.”

“... Ah,” I said, and I pursed my lips. As we approached the computer, I saw numerous screens light up. Batman took something out of his utility belt that smelled vaguely sulfuric, like gunpowder, and had the scent of a dead something to it. Something remarkably familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

Not before Batman placed the residue into the computer, anyway. “Computer, analyze base components of the residue and cross-reference with previously known Joker hideouts.”

I forced my tail to be still. It was interesting to watch Batman in detective mode, investigating something like this. Impressive and, if I was being honest, kind of attractive. Batman was a strong, virile person, whose aura just felt like it would be worth it. Still, no. I was not going to attempt to feed on either him or Nightwing. Superman… maybe. Wait. No, that was a worse idea. At least with Batman, I knew Bruce had the reputation of being a womanizer, but Clark Kent? He was with Lois Lane.

Oh, Frost. I know the hero you’d much prefer anyway, BlackFire sent. She’s a Wonder. A mental image of a cartoon demoness pulling down her eyelid and sticking out her tongue passed through our connection. Our tails and body language stayed as deathly still as we could though.

“Now, while that’s analyzing,” Batman said as he turned to us. “We can talk about Grundy, yourselves, and what happened. First, I would like to thank you for helping when you did. You didn’t need to step in, but I’m grateful for the assistance.”

“It was uh…” BlackFire stumbled over herself. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting Batman, of all people, to thank us for help.

“A pleasure to help,” I said. “It… it’s what we do.”

Batman smiled, nodding. “You went against an unknown for you in an unknown city. You used your own technology, which you admitted are test rigs for potential future military use. You clearly do have some sort of heroic drive to you though.”

We nodded, nothing that he said was completely unexpected.

“You also killed Solomon Grundy,” Batman said. He held up a hand before we could say anything in response. “Cyrus Gold has been dead for over a century. Occasionally, someone or something revives him as Solomon Grundy. Killing him here was a mercy, sending him back to the rest that he surely deserves. However, the methods you used on him would be lethal a lot earlier if used on someone not nearly as enhanced.”

“Part of the point,” BlackFire muttered. We didn’t want him getting back up again.

“You two are soldiers, not traditional heroes,” Batman said. “At least not the way we define them here. You aren’t invaders, but perhaps you are forward scouts. But you weren’t lying when you said you didn’t intend on coming here. Wherever you were intending on reaching… this wasn’t your intended scouting destination. So… let’s be a little more open here. Who are the two of you, really?”

I frowned, but I stood at attention, my sister doing the same. “Primus Centurion FrostShadow, and this is my sister Primus Centurion BlackFire, of the BlackSkyvian Fleet. Currently tasked as test pilots and route scanners.”

“And your plans for this planet?”

“Wait. You two are alien, not metahuman?” Nightwing asked. “Or demons?”

“Well…” I shook my head. “We could be considered both aliens and demons. We are from Diyu.”

Batman nodded. “And your intentions?”

“Nothing untoward,” BlackFire said. “As we came here by accident, the most we would want is to learn.”

“The planet does seem interesting, and we would love to learn more,” I said in agreement.

Batman nodded. “You’re clearly young for your species. Perhaps in late adolescence or early adulthood. Given your predilections for heroics and the lethality of your actions, you will need some training on how to operate here. Given you don’t have anywhere to stay…”

Nightwing looked at Batman. “I’m not sure that they’ll like this. Adding new members to the Team without warning? Kid Flash will be insufferable, and Superboy and Miss Martian… they won’t like the lack of choice. Artemis won’t either. You know we prefer to invite new members ourselves.”

I glanced at Nightwing.

“It’s not that anything is wrong with the two of you,” he said. “But I just met you. You’re both pretty awesome with what you did, but I can’t trust you yet. He taught me that.”

“I’m not asking that you have them join the Team,” Batman said. “Just that they be allowed to stay in the Mountain.”

“Perhaps it would be easier for you to trust us if we disengaged our armor,” BlackFire said, nodding to me.

Nightwing blinked. “You aren’t worried about your identities?”

“What identities?” I asked. “You have our names, and you know we are not from this planet.”

Without waiting for further assurances, we initiated a disengage routine with our Ritual Plates. The self-repair aspects for our Ritual Plate could repair themselves when the armor was disengaged, and the designers had managed to incorporate something new into the design of these armors. It required a lot more Pilot capability and was in some ways uncomfortably like the Andromachin method of Ritual Plate. That was another system we were testing which given the costs, expensive even by Polyxo or Svalinna standards, might limit them to scouting or infiltration roles.

The Plate retracted into a sub-dimension that the armorers had thought to use, basing upon similar principles to what DarkStar’s mate’s people used. Our Zephyrs went to sleep in the process. All that remained on us from the armor were gem-encrusted chokers around our neck. BlackFire’s had a ruby inset in onyx while my own had a sapphire. We wore jet-black bodysuits under our armor, and they retracted into leotards. A red skirt appeared on BlackFire that went down to mid-thigh, and a blue one appeared on mine.

BlackFire’s a taller demon than me, and her skin’s a bit darker purple than my own. Our tails are both tipped with crimson spades, and they whipped out around to wrap our bodies. Unlike me, my sister had more traditional demonic wings with red skin-like membranes between each rib of it. Her red horns were much shorter than mine, barely sticking out of her forehead. My own wings were made of dark, black feathers, and my red horns curled upward. My powder blue hair fell in tightly curled tresses that went down to the small of my back, hiding my pointed ears, while my sister’s violet hair was cut in a pageboy style and straight.

BlackFire’s skirt shifted to a pair of leggings and then red tight pants over the leotard after a few seconds, and she slipped on a jacket, with her wings sticking out.

“Wait, you’re shapeshifters and have biomorphic armor?” Nightwing asked, his enthusiasm plentiful. He also was grinning widely. “That’s amazing. Miss Martian will definitely like that. And Kid Flash will love the fact that you’re both very pretty. Honestly, you’re a lot.”

I nodded with a brief grin. If she was anything like the Martian Manhunter, she would be interesting to meet. “Perhaps. Do you think they would mind us staying?”

Nightwing shook his head. “We’ll have to discuss adding you to the team. But really, FrostShadow and BlackFire? Are those really your names?”

“It’s how they translate to your language,” BlackFire said.

“How would we pronounce them in your native tongue?” Nightwing asked, and Batman stepped back toward the computer.

We told him, and he attempted to repeat them. He came close with my sister, but when he got to mine, he got a little tongue-tied. Silvan wasn’t an Earth language though, even if it shared similarities to Latin.

“Interesting,” Nightwing said. “I’ll stick with the translations for now. I bet KF will be completely whelmed when he sees you. Of course… if the computer’s responded…”

Batman shook his head. “I can get Jim, Nightwing. Take them to the Mountain. I’ve set them up guest access in the Zeta tubes.”

“You sure, Batman?” Nightwing asked.

“I’ve got it. Go and see your friends,” Batman said.

“How do the Zeta tubes work, exactly?” I asked.

“They are a teleportation technology that we developed, and they are designed to work well with most systems,” Batman said. “It should work fine with what you have.”

We nodded. “So, what do we do?”

“Nightwing will put in the coordinates for the Mountain; you just need to walk through.” Batman nodded to us. “If you do join the Team, you will be given permanent access and shown how to use the tubes yourself.”

“Do you want to wear some masks?” Nightwing asked as he approached the console next to the now-named Zeta Tube.

I shook my head. “What for? We have no secret identities to hide.”

“Fair,” Nightwing said as he tapped at the console. He gestured toward the hallway. “Go on through, then. Should be an experience. I remember my first time. You’ll get to really feel the aster.”

I blinked. That… was not a turn of phrase I’d learned in my English studies. The what?

Frost, he’s human and maybe your age at most. Let it go, BlackFire said. She gestured toward the doorway. “So, when should w ego?”

“Right now, actually,” Nightwing said. “Once you walk through, you’ll be at the Mountain.”

We exchanged glances again, but we decided together. We might as well go through. It wasn’t likely to do anything close to killing us, and at worst, we could just recover from it afterward. As we stepped into the tubed hallway, the rings started to rotate around us, and a voice came on over a speaker.

“Recognized, BlackFire, G09, FrostShadow G10.”

We stepped further in, and in the blink of an eye, the Batcave vanished. So too did any form of shielding that we had set up. The world disappeared into an ocean of emotion.

What a disaster.

 

Here's another one I wrote and can be read on WrandmWaffles 's A Young Vampire's Cohabitation Arrangements thread as it crosses with that story.

Where Tauria, her... well he's still cohabiting with her, strickly speaking and her twin sister end up in a... different Chicago.


Double Demons takes place a bit after the Battle of Chicago, in terms of both Tanya's experiences.

 

So a bit of a status update.

Chapter 20 stands at just over 10k words so far. I hope to have it finished before the year is out.
Also I have a few art pieces that I plan to put up as a bit of a Feast of DarkStar reward. (Including a couple rather thematic ones)

But to keep this post from being just a tease of upcoming things, I'll share a couple pieces. Both of these are from the excellent Scitty Kitty.

Here we see Tauria and mother Clementia having a bit of a moment, and well Tauria is trying her best.

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And here is Tauria with her two favorite cadets. Which also serves as a good reference for Cadets Lavish RoseTalon and Pulivia VibrantFang.

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For Little Demon it's been one heck of a year. And yes, "Victory" was first publicly posted on 12/25/2021 with mirror postings on other forums several days later. I would like to thank everyone, from editors, prereaders, other Tanya writers, commenters, artists. Everyone who has helped me refine this... ambitious story. Everyone who liked, shared, reviewed, or even simply read it. There are far, far too many people for me to name individually.

I'm thankful to all of you for putting in the time and I hope you enjoyed it. With this story, I've found new communities, new friends, and had a part in rekindling some concepts and ideas that have been a long time coming, I'm really happy with how this crazy, original setting has still managed to pull people in, and that fans of Youjo Senki seem to have enjoyed my treatment of Tanya as a character. I have been taken away by the quality, kindness, and sheer effort in commentary that you have all brought to this story. Little Demon would not be the story it is if not for your help, and that of my editors.

I wish all of you a Merry Christmas, Yule, Hanukah, or whatever winter holiday that is applicable.

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And now... a bit of a status report.


Chapter 20 is on its last scene and stands at 12k words. I hope to have the draft finished before New Years and we'll see how long it takes to proof.

The next part of the Battle of Chicago Side-story " The Second Wave: Pandemonium" is about halfway done. It may be a bit shorter, but the plan is to give a Hoof-slogger's view of events, especially when a certain set of RP is called in for air support.

Peer Rivals Part 2 is also being worked on and will show more of a one Hajime Tanya learning more of her new "friends" and what she can get out of them.

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And with that done.... onto the real core of this post: the art.

First we start with an alternate of a piece I posted a few days ago. By ScittyKitty we have Tauria and two of her cadets but instead of being angry she's.... singing. This makes it less threatening.... right?


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Next we have a work by PlayerError404 showing Tauria in a fancy dress and a bit perturbed by it all. But don't worry it'll get better for her.

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And from Scarlet Fox we've got a few examples of them playing around with AI to make some art of Tauira. Standard limitations and cautions apply, but the overall theme and style is amusing and fan efforts are always appreciated.

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Next from LexiKimble is the latest in showing some very serious BlackSkyvian military hardware. Here we see a Sarpedona Pilot (left) and a Harmonia Pilot (Right) taking a moment to catch-up after a long mission.

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We then go to a fun magic card that WrandmWaffles came up with. He's made quite a few for other Tanya crosses.

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And finally we end with another PlayerError404 piece. This one showing a future event that has been implied to happen (or at least can be deduced given who the main character is of the released stories to Little Demon) . Yes, this is Tauria and her mother meeting DarkStar. They seem happy with it, even if the redhead is a bit unsure of this whole religion that grew around her memory.

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Once again, thank you all so much for everything, and have a Happy Holiday.

And onto chapter 20 and from there the Off-World Colonies arc.​

 

To give a status update, and to showcase some new art, but mostly to showcase some new art here's.... some new art.

But first the status update:

Chapter 21 of Little Demon is at 8,500 words. And is hopefully at maybe halfway to 2/3 written.

The Omake Peer Rivals Ch2 is ast 5,000 words and should be at nearing the last scene.

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First from we have a future preview of a day Tauria has been telling herself she dreads and her Vs have been looking for. In an amazingly sparkly and frilly piece by PlayerError404

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In fairness to her concerns, a countess officer of her note marrying a baroness, with their mistress would be quite the fanciful event.

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And here we have a symbol of the alliance between Great Houses Elena and Luxon. Done by LexiKimble

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Yes. that is an Elenese Mokosh recon suit and a Luxon Anupet multi-role suit.

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And now we come to some excellent work by PlayerError404 showing all three configurations of the Polyxo Advanced Multi-Role.

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First we have the Ground Attack Polyxo configuration, which is roughly analogous to the Sarpendona. Pictured with the Pilum (anti-armor) and Falx (anti-infantry) projectors and heavier armor and protective wardings.

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Next we have the Air-superiority Polyxo configuration, which is comparable to the Harmonia. This is pictured with the Ballista air-to-air optimized weapons, and suit add-ons for superior high speed performance and maneuverability.

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Finally we have the Lance Strike variant Polyxo configuration, which is comparable to the Telephe. This is pictured with a massive Lance system, including the arcane projector and the various high magical energy storage flasks that power the weapon's limited capacity.

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There are a few artistic liberties with the design, they may not glow this much, but the colors are also veiled and muted when in combat mode, and the strike modes may have two lances, their verutum launchers aren't shown. But those are minor, I'm really happy as this shows vast differences in the configurations the Polyxo has when the different weapon and maneuvering and warding kits are attached.

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Next we have a picture of Tauria's maid... er... aide in a slightly more human-looking guise, from Saturn13

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Reinhild SunShower has found some quirks of her new mistress but overall is pleased with her new job.

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And finally we have the frilly, but technically official, Legionary uniform variant from chapter 20 done by PLayerError404.​

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VioletBlood is her usual exuberant self, and even the kitsune seems amused, while Tauria does wonder how bad this meeting will go, little does she know that soon she'll meet another Daughter shortly and be given some "good" news.

 

Today is a banner day (sorry for the pun) with a bunch of new art.

Ch22 is being revised and the middle scene is being written out.

First we have the unexpected piece from steamrick where he made a rather impressive bit of AI art of Tauria in a gown that can be seen here

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From @Endymion with a bit of revision on my part we have Tauria's Coat of Arms as mentioned in chapter 21.

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Next from @FishTheTaco232 we have this wonderfully shaded and evocative piece.


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Here we have from PlayerError404 another example of Tauria meeting someone important. This time BlackSky herself. The audiance was setup by her Daughter Felisia (from ch20), who also was happy to supply Tauria's gown.


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And finally from ScittyKitty, we have Household Fleet Tribune ShadowWhisper (also last seen in ch20) giving Tauria some pointers for her thesis defense. This image is also a great example contrasting Fleet Whites and Legion Blacks.


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Okay we've got another crop of great and fun art for Little Demon.

Let's start with this great piece by PlayerError404 showing Tauria having some fun with her newest Flight Leader Lucia Hood. And if she looks a bit.. familiar, don't worry about it.

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Next we have from Lexi Kimble a great demonstration of Elenese High Fashion. Though this does imply that Duchess SilverFlight and her youngest daughter are visiting their neighbor to the north for some diplomatic reason. Don't worry about it.

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And now a bit of a small digression. Here we've got some schematics showing the evolution of the "Assault Carrier" concept. From using a small Kolibri Patrol ship to the Fortuna Sub-Class and finally the Wasp Sub-Class. One can see how the Assault Carrier is, in many ways, a blending of the Long Range Insertion (IE troopship with full complement of VTOLs) and a Ritual Plate Carrier. (And that the Kolibri is a bit too small to have a true Assault Carrier).

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And now we go back to PlayerError404 with Tauria a novitate sister of the Sisterhood of Our Hallowed Lady meeting an.... old friend: Sister Maaria RedLash of the Sisterhood of Our Martyred Lady. And Tauria may not have taken Maaria's complaints with all due seriousness. One may note that the Andromachin branch of the Sisterhood of Our Martyred Lady dresses slightly... different.

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And finally we close out with Lexi Kimble showing the "close" alliance between Houses Luxon and Elena. With a rather tall Luxon pilot in a Sekhmet Air-Superior suit and a rather slender Elenese pilot in her new Volos Stealthy Air-Superiority suit.

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It's been a while, and I have news and some goodies.

First, chapter 23 is at 12,500 words, then penultimate scene is almost written and I hope that the final scene will be fairly short. Operation Epimetheus is a go. There's been some more work on the omake Peer Rivals Part 2 as well.

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Next from ScittyKitty we have Centurion Invidia Nihilus who is looking her cheerful, open self.

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Now for a slight change of pace. There's an unofficial soundtrack to Little Demon, with up to 17 entries!
But one song on the soundtrack in particular seemed relevant to the life of those living in a part of Midlands Territory, a obscure County by the name of Silas, that's part of Diyu's coal country. And with apologies to Darrell Scott and with the help of @Readhead

You'll Never Leave Silas Alive
(original lyrics)

In the deep dark hills of northern Midlands
That's the place where I trace my bloodline
And it's there I read on a hillside gravestone
"You'll never leave Silas alive"

Oh, my grandmother's dam crossed the Vyhraj Mountains
Where she took a pretty girl to be her bride
Said, "Won't you walk with me, out of the mouth of this holler
or we'll never leave Silas alive"

Where the sun comes up about ten in the mornin'
And the sun goes down about three in the day
And you fill your cup with whatever bitter brew you're drinkin'
And you spend your life just thinkin' of how to get away

No one ever knew there was coal in them mountains
Till a Lady from the northeast arrived
Wavin' hundred Aureus coins, said, "I'll pay you for your minerals"
But she never left Silas alive

Granny sold out cheap and they moved out west to Artrax
To a farm where Big Plutum River winds
And I bet they danced them a jig
And they laughed and sang a new song
"Who said we'd never leave Silas alive!"

But the times they got hard and poppy wasn't sellin'
And old grandmother knew what she'd do to survive
She went and dug for Silas Coal
And sent the money back to granny
But she never left Silas alive

Where the sun comes up about ten in the mornin'
And the sun goes down about three in the day
And you fill your cup with whatever bitter brew you're drinkin'
And you spend your life diggin' coal from the bottom of your grave
You'll never leave Silas alive.

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Back to art, we have this from PlayerError404 where Tauria is spending some quality time with DarkStar (who is reliving her own goth phase). Tauria is just happy that it doesn't have to be so formal and stiff. Though the whole experience is surreal to her.​

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Finally, we have a bit of in universe propaganda made by ScittyKitty. We all know that Tauria likes to present herself as utterly loyal. Tauria also is seen as a loyalist, and a subject to propaganda. Add in her hated nickname "The Jungle Fox" and that part of her time in the capital was devoed to "sanding off her rough edges" one gets this piece. Yes, that is Imperatrix BlackSky doting over her.​

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Status update:
Little Demon ch24 is being edited and is making good progress in the cleanup and revision process. Chapter 25 is being outlined and well... is the culmination of a bunch of things. The draft of Peer Rivals part 2 is also nearly done.

Also some of you may have noticed a stealth edit. Chapters 1 to 20 are now grouped into Book 1: "What Comes After"
With the next being Book 2 : "More than a Shadow"

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And a music update.

Also the Little Demon Sountrack has had a few additions to it many thanks to @Readhead and @metaldragon868 (Appologies for anyone I have missed)
And yes, there is over 80 minutes worth of music there. I'll also stress that every piece in there is reader suggested. So if you enjoy any of the selections thank the other readers. As I thank all of you for your suggestions.

Now there are a couple pieces that doesn't have its full version, and that is Jon Charles Dwyer's - Panthers on the Mountainside and Landon Blood's As Above So Below. Both part of Old Gods of Appalachia which has some themes with how Diyu is in the hills, hollers, and woods. And if you want to pay for these or any other musical works, I'll have no objection

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And now.... the art

First from PlayerError404 we have House BlackSky's two rarest Ritual Plate models.


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Left is the Svalinna a defensive suit that projects far ranging wards, useful for giving an extra layer of protection to fleets or major ground operations.
Right is a variant on the Occultia a low observable suit that also has massive theater-grade scrying systems. Both suits are quite expensive and require speicalist pilot skills.

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From Lexikimble we've got a bit of cosplay


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VioletBlood seemed to be a natural for playing hte part of the hot-blooded, haughty redheaded pilot. Gee seems to be a lot of those.
As for Tauria playing the amoral scientist, don't worry about it.

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Also from LexiKimble we have another in Luxon and Elenese Ritual Plate models series.
(The next one will be a Trosic and a Zioxan suit)


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Variant Without Helmet​

Left is a Luxon Neith, a scrying heavy suit. Their version of a Occultia or Mokos
Right is an Elenese Marzanna (Gen 2), an air superiority suit. Their version of the Harmonia or Tjardu

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From Deepay we've got another mother-daughter bonding of Volantes Tribune (Rorarii) Duchess SilverFlight and her youngest Prefect Volantes Centurion Countess Tauria Magnus DiamondDust.


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And finally from Beige Paladin we have another take on the Svalinna. (You might have seen an earlier version of this posted elsewhere)

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Also don't worry about the apperance of art of the rarest, most in demand, and epxensive RP models in BlacSkyvian service or that of a major peer air-superiority suit.

 

Here's another art update!
But First, a story status update: Little Demon chapter 27 is written and is being edited right now. But more than that chapter 28 stands at 10k and once gain I'm working on the the last scene. As a further bonus the Omake crossover with AYGGW, Peer Rivals has Part 2 posted here with Part 3 being edited as well.

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From FishTheTaco232 we have this piece of a familiar subject were Tauria is recovering after a long flight while her Chief Ritualista Gibbs has complaints about hte wear she's put on her Polyxo.


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Next from PlayerError404 we have an Invidia showing off her BlackSkyvian Imperial Legionary kit, sans helmet.




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Scitty-Kitty gives us this cute headshot of Primus Lucia Hood, Flight Leader of Third Flight.


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And Lexi Kimble made this great piece of more Ritual Plate models used by two more Great Houses
Left is the Rochefort a Trossic air superiority suit. Right is the Tjardu a Zioxan air superiority suit.



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Version with both wearing helmets.

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Also from PlayerError404 we have a continuation of the themes: Duchess SilverFlight insists her daughter put on fancy dress and Tauria meets DarkStar. Which is a way to show off them all dressed up, doubtless for some formal event.


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And finally from Scitty-Kitty we've got another take on Invidia's Legionary kit.


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A Gastly Reflection​

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Sunshine Temple , here is that Spoopy Halloween omake, as promised.

Thanks for your help getting it out the door.

Tauria

"Did it really have to be so dreadfully far out in these woods?" VioletBlood complained behind me.

"You didn't have to come with me." I pointed out as I swept aside another branch in our path.

I also wasn't sure why she was complaining. LoveBlood may have been a noble, but it's not like she was some delicate flower, she was Legion like the rest of us.

"I wasn't leaving you alone out in these creepy woods!" She shot back. "What kind of fiancee would I be if I left my betrothed to ward off a plague of ghosts by herself?"

I rolled my eyes while she couldn't see me. Visha caught the gesture, though, and her lips twitched into a smile.

"Then why are you complaining?" I replied. "I know the Legion prepared you for a little hike out in the woods And I've overseen your evasion training."

"Normal woods, yes." She nodded. "Not haunted woods plagued by rowdy spirits at night."

"That…" I paused, considering the matter. There was much a sufficiently motivated spirit could do, and the reports I'd received indicated the local haunts were very rowdy. "...Is fair enough. Running into an angry spirit out here could certainly be a… problem."

There was a deep grunt beside me. It took more effort than I would like to admit for me to suppress my instinct to jump at the sudden presence. VioletBlood wasn't quite as fortunate, my eye catching the twitch of her tail as Lares practically melted out of the dark forest.

"If you don't want to run into an angry spirit, then why did the three of you bother stomping your way out here?" Lares grumbled.

"I have a duty to my county, Lares." I said, firmly. "I'll not be caught slouching while my citizens suffer. If there's trouble in the forest, it's my job to fix it."

"The forest has always been dangerous." He grunted. "We've always made do before."

"The routine risks of life on the frontier of civilization is one thing, but the reports I've received are something else. Strange lights and noises at night. Nightmares from locals, growing in intensity enough to hamper sleep, but no one able to recall what any of them were about. A sense that the forest is watching them at all times." I explained. "Even reports of missing things, missing people, my people."

Lares shrugged. "Like I said, we've always made do before."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but the towering forest person didn't so much as budge. "...be that as it may, that was before you all became my responsibility. I'll not sit idly by while me and mine are under threat."

"Besides," this time it was my turn to shrug, "This is just a little recon mission to see what we're working with. I've been trained in the Sisterly arts, so I know a thing or two about dealing with restless spirits, but I still need more information before I can even begin a diagnosis."

Lares let out a deep rumbling sound that melted into a familiar sigh as he shook his head. "Stupid nosy demons… always poking your horns into trouble. Don't blame me if you get yourselves killed."

Despite his words, Lares didn't voice any more protest.

"How much further do we have to go?" Visha asked. "I doubt any of us would want to spend all night out here."

"Well…" I consulted my guides again.

Just wandering into the forest hoping to find something to jump out at me would have been the height of foolishness. My lands were not grand, but they were certainly sizable, far more than any person could reasonably cover in a day's hike, unaided. Lares was the best guide through the forest I could ever ask for, but I couldn't expect him to hunt down a spiritual disturbance in so large an area without any formal training. So, like any self-respecting demoness, I cheated.

"According to the Compass…" I held out the golden instrument.

The arcane needle spun and spun, the wheel it turned on shook and shook, putting thorns of disquiet in my heart every second it took to stop moving.

"...Is that supposed to happen?" Visha asked.

"It…is supposed to show the way to the strongest source of spiritual unrest nearby. It has also already been attuned to our natural harmonics." I explained. "Which means it should, theoretically, merely point to whatever spirit is haunting this forest. The closer we are to said source, the more the wheel should shake."

We all stared at the golden aetheric compass twisting wildly and trembling furiously in the middle of these dark woods.

"...Was it doing that before?" VioletBlood asked beside me.

"No." I said simply.

Before now the needle had pointed unerringly in one direction, and the tremors had been faint. That it had so suddenly changed now that we were making our way through the depths of the forest…

I became acutely aware of the sensation of someone's eyes on the back of my neck.

"...Perhaps we should return later." I ventured.

The moment the words escaped my lips, the needle snapped still on a vector and the tremors died back down. Our horns tingled for a few more seconds.

We stared at the compass for another moment.

"Well…that's not ominous at all." Visha supplied.

"Clearly, it's a sign you should turn back." Lares grunted.

"I think it's an invitation!" VioletBlood declared, clenching her fist. "We can't show an ounce of fear to this damned forest!"

I sighed, but didn't disagree. "We came out here to do a job. It would be poor form to turn back at the first sign of results."

Visha just nodded and gave us that amiable smile, but I saw the way she fingered the rifle slung over her shoulder. "As you say, ladies."

Lares sighed again, shaking his head in that way of his, but he didn't rescind his guidance.

And so we walked.

I took point again, letting the aetheric compass lead the way while VioletBlood followed along and Visha pulled up the rear. Consulting Lares, along with a slightly more mundane compass and map helped chart our progress, but ultimately they could only do so much as we found ourselves drawn deeper and deeper into the forest, and further and further up the mountain.

Then, finally, when the golden compass was shaking so much I thought it might jump out of my hand, we found it.

The once claustrophobic canopy of trees parted, revealing a pristine lake, with a layer of mist curling around the shores. The lake was so perfectly still it flawlessly reflected the night sky above us, like a mirror, to the point where staring at it from our vantage point it almost seemed as if the moon itself was resting in the lake.

And on the opposite shore from us, sitting on the end of this water-bound moon, was a small island with a shrine. It was… somewhat confusing in its appearance, featuring wooden totems and stone statues that reminded me much of something I would have seen in small islands on the Curae Sea east of House Trosier, or smaller pacific island nations on earth, but the building itself strongly resembled a Shinto shrine. That was to say nothing of the large red tori gate before the entrance.

"That…isn't supposed to be here, is it?" Visha guessed.

I consulted the map again, but I already knew the answer. "No… no it isn't."

"Is the lake at least supposed to be here?" Visha inquired.

I sighed.

"So… maybe some unwanted guests?" VioletBlood ventured, an eager edge in her voice.

"But look at the age of the building. It looks… worn." Visha pointed out.

She was right. Even from here I could see faded paint, weathered stone, and curling vines. It was clear to see that the shrine itself couldn't be new, yet there was no record of it on the map. That was to say nothing of the strangeness of finding cultural relics associated with Earth's Pacific islands, Japan included, in the middle of densely wooded mountains far from any sea.

Although, given the nature of Diyu, there was something of an obvious answer. I could even feel it when I expanded my senses out to the breadth of my surroundings.

"I think the definition of 'here' is far more… malleable in this location." I said. Looking at the moon sitting in the lake, and thinking about who, exactly, DarkStar's lover was.

I have a terrible feeling about this.

Turning to our resident guide, I hoped he had good news for me. "Lares?"

"...Shit." He grunted.

"...Lares?" I repeated, concern rising.

"It's the damn moon shrine."

"...Ah" I said with a kind of detached calm. Internally, all manner of alarms were blaring. "And what, exactly, is this moon shrine? And why isn't it on any of our maps?"

"It ain't always here, for starters." Lares explained. "Don't know why it's here, what it's for, or how it gets here, but the island pops in and out of the forest every other century or so, seemingly at random."

"...Well, that really only raises more questions than it answers, doesn't it?" Visha frowned.

"Indeed." I grimaced.

"Well, there's only one way to find those answers!" VioletBlood chirped, jabbing a conquering finger at the shrine that radiated all the confidence I wasn't feeling. "We must venture forth, for the Empire!"

She was probably just hamming things up to inject some cheer into the otherwise gloomy atmosphere, and I privately admitted I was grateful for it, but that didn't mean she didn't have a point.

"Is that even safe?" I asked Lares.

He gave me a very unsatisfying shrug. "Kinda."

"Kinda?" I repeated with an incredulous brow. "I'd prefer a little more than kinda."

"My people have visited the shrine before. It's how we know it's moon related and such." He elaborated. "But, if you don't come back before the shrine disappears…well you probably aren't coming back at all, even as a corpse."

"Awww, my barony doesn't have anything cool like that," VioletBlood pouted.

The rest of us ignored her with well practiced ease.

"...Probably?" I prodded, despite my every instinct telling me it was a terrible idea.

"You demons aren't the first nosy things to go sniffing around here, stirring up trouble." He grumbled, shooting a dark look towards the shrine. "The last time someone tried to mess with the shrine…well let's just say the forest fed well that day."

"But people have returned safely?" Visha asked.

"Yeah, but only so long as they didn't piss off whatever lives there." Lares gave us all a dry look. "Please, don't piss it off. I'd hate to have to get a new Countess already."

By reflex, the three of us gave VioletBlood a pointed look.

"...What?" She frowned, mildly indignant.

"Hmm…should probably get started on the paperwork for your replacement, then." Lares deadpanned.

"Don't worry, Lares, we'll make sure VioletBlood behaves." Visha smiled, sidling up to Baroness.

LoveBlood shot her a look, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Very well…" I sighed, unfurling my wings and resigning myself to this fate. "Unfortunately, we can't turn back now that we've finally gotten an actual lead. The job still remains undone, ladies. Lares, we will be back before you know it."

We took wing and flew across the immaculate surface of the lake before landing on the far shores of the island, where a rolling blanket of fog clung to the ground. Walking towards the torii gate at the entrance to the shrine, I could see tendrils of mist curling up and around the various structures dotting the area, like fingers of some creature lying just beneath the bounds of reality grasping at these totems of civilization. When we finally stepped through the gate, I could feel something was… off, but not what.

Something was different now, like the faint static from an old radio I could feel at the edges of my empathic sense. Yet the needle didn't so much as twitch away from its unerring position, aimed straight at the small shrine before me. It shuttered and shook in my hand, a clear indication the source of the spiritual unrest lay directly before me, yet it's point never veered from the shrine.

Stepping inside, it was much like what I would expect from a modest shinto temple, at least until I noticed the far more tribal relics of wooden tiki masks and stone carvings. Finally, the center of the room was dominated by a clear depiction of the moon transitioning through its phases, with each phase placed in an arc along a wall. On a plinth at the center of it, with rays of moonlight, both real and depicted falling down upon it, was a book.

Opening the book revealed that it was written in an utterly alien language to me. Although, the way each letter seemed to depict a cartoonish eye staring back at me did little to help my nerves. Nor did the sense that the book was reading me as much as I was reading it.

"Lovely," Visha said, glancing over my shoulder.

"I think they're kind of cute." VioletBlood commented.

I shot her a look.

She shrugged.

Sighing, I clapped the book shut. "However 'cute' you think it might be, I am absolutely not dealing with its brand of nonsense tonight."

LoveBlood made a mildly disappointed noise while Visha nodded in agreement.

"I have to admit, I'm surprised you're not burning it." She pointed out.

"Oh, I'm tempted." I admitted as I put the book to the side. "But I'm fairly certain that doing so would constitute 'pissing It off', and whatever 'It' is, this shrine is clearly connected to the moon. All things considered, the last thing I want to do is earn the ire of DarkStar's lover."

The two girls traded looks. "...Do you think this is connected to her?"

I shrugged, "I have no idea, but it's clear to see this is no normal haunting. Best not to risk it, don't you think?"

Even VioletBlood grimaced at that. "A… fair point, Countess."

"Now then," I unlimbered the pack from my back and let it thud onto the floor. "Who's going to help me set up the Seance?"

A few minutes later, the jasmine incense was burning, the circle of rabbit's blood was written, the offering was prepared, and I was wearing my sisterly raiment. The particular blend in question was one meant to soothe, rather than bind or exorcize. Diplomacy was likely our best bet, at least until we knew more, no sense antagonizing angry ghosts until I had some idea what we were dealing with.

Hopefully the offering of chocolate cake would be appealing in that regard.

"Alright, I'll need the two of you to stay back and be ready in case anything goes wrong." I said while I put the last touch on my thurible and opened my book of prayers to the proper incantation.

"What will you want us to do?" Visha asked, shouldering her rifle and looking quite warily at the chocolate cake surrounded by blood.

Which… fair enough.

"...Still figuring that part out." I muttered, letting a burst of magic carry into the thurible and ignite the incense. Blue flames flickered out from the silver cage, and the soft scent of jasmine wafted out.

"We could try to kill it?" LoveBlood offered.

"That… would likely just end with the two of you getting dragged into senseless deaths." I stood up, thurible slowly swinging in one hand, book of sisterly prayers in the other. Dressed as I was in the sisterhood's attire, with all the underlying spiritual protections that came with it, I was as ready as I ever could be. "At least if it's as bad as I'm thinking."

"The logical thing to do would be to pull me out of the ritual before it's too late and run to get reinforcements." I concluded. I gave my two Vs a smile I wasn't feeling. "Hopefully it won't come to that."

And with that tiny measure of optimism, I began the Seance.

As I chanted the incantation to summon the spirit of this shrine before us, I walked slowly around the perimeter of the circle, making sure to swing the thurible in a precise cadence in rhythm with my words. Each step of my feet, each turn of the incense, each word from my lips was another piece in an elaborate magical formula designed by DarkStar's order to get deep in contact with the spiritual realm. Sometimes to harm, sometimes to heal, and in this case, just to talk.

After nearly a minute of performing the ritual, the candles flickered. The wind twisted in the wrong direction. I felt a chill go through my horns and crawl down my spine.

Something was here.

"Please, spirit, reveal yourself." I finished the incantation, raising the thurible between me and the center of the circle, where the spirit was manifesting.

Then, all the candles were snuffed out. The book I had discarded at the back of the room flew open. Letters ripped themselves off the pages, twirling through the air with staring eyes and inky forms. The wind whipped around me, a childish laughter buried within it, drowning out any attempt to voice protest. The letters swirled around the summoning circle. Unnatural all consuming darkness darkness fell across the room. Then, a beam of moonlight fell from the ceiling, revealing in the center of the summoning circle…

…Me?

An ethereal girl with my face stood in the center of the circle. A white dress hung from her shoulders, a wide brimmed hat of alabaster hung over her head, her feet didn't seem to quite touch the ground, and her flesh seemed so pale as to be translucent in the moonlight. Blonde locks fell from her head, though in oddly geometric clumps, like they were made of golden bands instead of individual strands. Her eyes flashed open, revealing glittering emerald eyes.

Eyes that met mine.

Eyes that saw what I was wearing, and where she was.

Then the other me snarled in Japanese.

"Being X, you dare?"

Oh Fuck. I thought. Lares is not going to like this.

Her shadow twisted on the floor, growing grasping tendrils and toothy maw pulled into a hungry smile.

"I'm not with Being X!" I quickly denied, backing away from the ghastly reflection of myself radiating pure malice.

"So you say wearing His attire! Holding His book! Speaking His words!" She snarled. The whites of her eyes were consumed by darkness, leaving only burning emeralds.

"It's not what it looks like!" I protested.

"Tanya?"

I glanced back, breath caught in my throat to see Visha staring between us, stunned.

My doppelganger looked equally shocked.

"Tanya, do you remember me?" Visha asked in Germanian, hope in her eyes.

Recognition flickered in my other self's gaze. For a moment, the fury faded from her form as she stared at Visha.

Then it returned tenfold.

"Being X. First you try and take my mother. Now you defile the dead?" My doppelganger hissed. "Do you know no shame?"

"Wait, we're not-!" I tried to reply.

"Enough!" She boomed, voice resounding with the thunder of a thousand echoes. "Though you may have dishonored their name time and time again, the Dead have a Voice, and I Am Their Speaker!"

Her shadow exploded outward, consuming the entire confines of the room in darkness. Glaring eyes and grinning mouths crawled out from the dark, followed by monsters of all different shapes and sizes. A cackling monster made of smoke and malice, a beautiful figure in white trailing ice and despair, a tiny puppet stitched together with shadow and pain.

I knew I only had one last chance.

"Being X is dead!" I cried out. "And I'm you! I'm just a demon!"

I pointed to my horns and tail, hoping that would help. "See?"

That, somehow, drew my doppleganger to pause.

"...Dead? Wait, demon?" She frowned, dark eyes pinched in thought. "That…doesn't really sound like something Being X would say."

"Being X can go rot in hell, like he belongs." I spat. "I put the sword bayonet in the rat bastard myself."

My other self rose a brow at that, and traded looks with the puppet.

"Mimic." The puppet shrugged, somehow. I got the sense, though, it was an agreement.

"...Alright." She sent wary looks between the three of us, but her shadows retreated, and most of her monsters with them. All save the puppet, which remained by her side. "If you are who you say you are, then we both know Being X is too much of an arrogant self-righteous bastard to do anything but sing his own praises."

"He is. Or, at least, was." I nodded, heart rate finally crawling back down to something reasonable.

"So… despite your… unfortunate attire-"

I cringed.

"I'm willing to… extend some trust your way." She finished, giving me an uncertain look up and down. "Although, really, a demon nun? That's what you decided to be?"

"It's…" I sighed, not even sure where to begin. "Complicated. You became a ghost? How did that happen?"

"I'm not a ghost." My other self sighed. "I just speak for them."

"You speak for ghosts?" I raised a brow.

"And fairies." She casually dropped the bombshell like it wasn't a big deal.

My gut sank.

Oh no.

"So… are we fighting your ghost sister or not?" VioletBlood asked, awkwardly holding her sword.

"She's not a ghost." I muttered to VioletBlood horror. "She's one of the fair folk."

"...Well shit." VioletBlood blinked.

My doppelganger, having no tongue for Silvan latin, merely looked at her puppet.

The puppet gestured back and my other self looked up. "Ah, I'm not a fairy either, I just work for them as the Kahuna of Aether Island."

I opened my mouth, tried to come up with a response, found nothing, and promptly closed it again.

"Although my Partner, Mimikyu, is both a Ghost and a Fairy. So there is that." My other self oh so helpfully pointed out.

VioletBlood gave her a confused look. "What did she say in moonspeak?"

Oh how I wanted to scream.

"...Why are you here?" I settled for, instead.

My doppelganger gave me a puzzled look. "...Because you summoned me? I'll admit, this is a bit of an usual method to call me, but bonded as I am to Mimikyu and Lunala, I heard the call clear as day and answered it, as is my duty."

"No, I mean, why is this whole Shrine in my County?" I pressed.

My doppelganger just looked, if anything, more confused. "Shrine? County? Wha-"

Then her puppet perked up, and her eyes widened. "...oh." She said simply.

I raised a brow. "Oh?"

"If you hope to find any answers, follow me," she said, and promptly marched past me and towards the shrine's door.

VioletBlood frowned, "What's that about?"

"Answers, maybe." I sighed, already resigning myself to how utterly bizarre today would be. "Come on, ladies," I said, following my doppelganger out the door.

She led us out to the shoreline again, where the blanket of fog rose from the lake and lapped against sand. Wisps of mist curled up from the surface of the water as we approached, rising up and coalescing into some greater form. Eventually they parted revealing a…

"...Is that a wooden fish?" VioletBlood stage whispered to me.

"It…appears so?" I guessed, trying to wrap my head around exactly what I was seeing rising from the lake. "Whatever it is, it's powerful, that's for sure. Perhaps some kind of spirit bound to a totem." I guessed.

My other self, however, seemed to know exactly what it was. To my surprise, she even bowed to it.

"Greetings, Tapu Fini. How might I serve you on this auspicious night?" My doppelganger said, words dripping with the utmost respect.

Then, like a clamshell, the fish-like totem split open and revealed the truth of the being inside.

I sucked in a sharp breath. Even VioletBlood stiffened beside me.

"That… is one of the Fair Folk, isn't it." Visha asked, fingers tense around her rifle. Not that it would do us any good.

I could only nod stiffly. Unveiled as the Fae was now, I could feel its power radiating through these hallowed grounds. Whatever manner of Fair Folk this being was, it utterly outclassed us, and we had strolled right into its Domain. If we were lucky, that invitation it had given us earlier wasn't meant to keep us here forever. If we weren't…well, I suppose Lares did warn us.

The Fairy, Tapu Fini as my other self had called it, Her, my mind insisted looked somewhat like a mermaid enclosed within a clamshell. An otherworldly intellect swam behind sapphire eyes, and though she had no mouth, a melodic tone swam out from her shell.

My doppelganger nodded along to the tune, before suddenly paling. "Are…are you sure? That's…drastic, isn't it? And what if something goes wrong?"

The fairy nodded and sang another melody.

This one caused my other self to sigh, sagging in a familiar resignation. "Yes… yes, I understand Tapu Fini. That… does make sense."

The fairy nodded, then closed her clamshell once more and returned back to the lake without another word.

When she was finally gone from my sight, I felt like I could breathe again. Looking up, I saw my doppelganger return to us.

"So, assuming you are my other self, as you claim," My doppelganger started, "Then I'm sure you are familiar with the idea that the reward for good work is more work?"

"...Yes?" I answered hesitantly, my tail drooping.

"Well, as it turns out, the Winter Court believes you did a splendid job on your work returning their mirror." She paused. "Whatever that means."

A hole in my gut opened up and swallowed what was left of my naive hope.

"And, as it happens, my Alolan Court believes that I did a splendid job on my work banishing a star-eating god from another dimension." the other me gave me a resigned shrug with an all too familiar helpless smile. "And, well, it seems our respective courts like to gossip. One thing leads to another, and…"

"This Shrine is a 'Gift', isn't it?" I asked, voice hollow as my heart.

My other self winced. "Of… sorts, yes."

"Of sorts?" I didn't like the sound of that.

"Yes…although we should probably take this conversation elsewhere." She said, giving the three of us a nervous look.

"Why's that?" I prodded. "Here seems as good a place as any."

"Well 'here' is currently something of a grey zone between the realms of the living and the dead." She replied, gesturing towards the mists circling the shore, "That's part of what Tapu Fini does. Her fog can bridge that boundary. But, if you stick around there for too long… you don't come back."

Well that explains some things.

"...Ah. Well, best not to linger at the train station between worlds"

Visha and LoveBlood both gave me strange looks.

My other self just scowled. "Don't joke about that."

"Who says I'm joking?" I said with a humorless smile.

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A crossover with my little pokemon-Tanya snip series I've been working on in my snippet thread. Technically cutting ahead to future events on the pokemon side, but meh.

Came up with this idea as fun little thing to do for Halloween, as well as something neat to do for Sunny given how much help they give me on my projects.

May or may not continue this, I do have plans for it but I have plans for a lot of stuff and precious little time to get to it all.

Still, enjoyed writing this up, hope ya'll enjoy it, and a happy All Hallow's Eve to all of you.